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7s3ven · 4 months

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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt. 2

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Y/N is finally claimed by her father, who turns out to be Zeus. Now, she’s stuck in an empty cabin as the only forbidden child of Zeus. Luke, on the other hand, is thrilled to be playing her knight in shining armour and getting her through each lonely day.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : a little bit of jealousy, arguing, Y/N being indecisive and confused (real), not proof-read

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TAG LIST : @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @csifandom @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @jennapancake @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @kkrenae

I really hope this part is good enough 🙏

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Being claimed was perhaps worse than staying in the Hermes cabin. The Zeus cabin was completely empty, much to Y/N’s dismay. Percy was unlucky enough to be a forbidden child too. Looks like neither of them would be having any half-siblings.

“I always knew she was destined for greatness.” Clarisse would say as if the life of a forbidden child wasn’t lonely and utterly isolated.

“Knock, knock.”

But there was one person who could light up the dim Zeus cabin.

“Hope you don’t mind that I brought strawberries. I picked ‘em myself. It was not easy work, let me tell you.” Luke chuckled as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. “Nice place.” He sarcastically said, staring at the cobwebs that littered the walls.

Y/N stared at him, unimpressed and unamused. “Being claimed was supposed to feel great. But I’m just back at square one again.” She huffed and took a strawberry Luke offered her. He sat beside Y/N, gesturing her to continue.

“You know, at least the Hermes cabin had another people. I’m stuck in this deserted cabin because my father finally decided that he wanted to see me! All I’m wondering is why it took so long. Why bother claiming me now?! Percy got claimed in under five days. I know people who have been claimed in one. Why did it take me ten years?! At least I know why I always attract trouble now. It’s because Zeus, that utter man whore, is my dad!”

Luke’s eyebrows silently raised at her words. “You’re welcome in the Hermes cabin any time, Y/N. Don’t forget that. I don’t think your dad was ignoring you… he was probably just waiting.”

“Yeah. Waiting until I finally proved myself to him. Because a child of Zeus should be a prodigy. No normal feat is allowed. It has to be impressive to gain his attention. How dumb.” Y/N scoffed.

“I was fine without him. I’ve gone my entire life never hearing from him and after ten years of being at camp, suddenly he wants to play daddy? He should’ve left me alone. But hey, at least you guys have more room in the Hermes cabin. I heard Chiron was going to move me.”

“What? But you’re practically part of the family. I mean, not exactly. It’d be weird if we were related because… you know… we’re friends and being such good friends with siblings seems weird.” Luke spoke so fast that Y/N couldn’t understand him.

She silently stared at him. “… You’re weird. Chiron just wanted to make more room for the newcomers. And, you know, I had been there for so long that I wasn’t considered new.”

“You okay, though? Your cuts aren’t still hurting? You don’t feel sick, right?” Luke carefully inspected her face and bruised arms, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Luke, I’m fine.” She reassured him, laughing. “Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Guess I’ve got to let you win the next game now.” He sighed. “I can’t believe you guessed Poseidon and got it right.”

“I took a wild guess. I wasn’t expecting it to be correct.”

Luke shrugged and stood up. “I need to go check up on some kids. A new group just arrived. Will you be alright by yourself? I can always go get Clarisse.”

Y/N stared up at him and a part of Luke wished she would ask him to stay. To stay in the stuffy cabin and just… talk.

“I think I need some alone time right now.” She softly smiled, resisting the urge to ask him not to walk out, to keep her company. “I just need to process all the shit that went down.”

Luke chuckled, ruffling her hair. “That’s my girl.” He began to walk away before he turned around last minute. “Hey, Y/N… thanks for staying by my side.”

“No problem. Thanks for being my friend, Luke.”

With a wounded heart and the embarrassment of being friend-zoned hanging high over his head, Luke walked out of the Zeus cabin.

Y/N didn’t see Luke again until a few days later. He was always so busy with the new kids but he still had time to leave a small box of strawberries on her porch.

It was dinner when Y/N could finally speak to Luke. She smiled at him and subtly waved and he grinned back. He had been talking with Chris about a boring topic but his eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. Luke stood up to sit with her before he was quickly intercepted.

“Luke.” One of the new girls said, staring up at him with her big doe eyes. She was claimed the moment she stepped into camp by Aphrodite. She seemed to already be her mother’s favourite. “Are you free to sit with me and my friends? We want to ask you a few questions.”

Luke was pulled away by the girl, leaving Y/N to watch him sheepishly grin. Y/N’s smile faltered. “I think he’s avoiding me.” She muttered to Percy, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. She felt a twisted knot of jealousy well up as a girl giggled and grabbed Luke’s arm. And he let her.

The younger boy looked up in confusion. “Who? Luke? I don’t think so. Girls just seem to really like him.”

Y/N frowned but didn’t say anything else. She could only stare again as the girls around Luke laughed as he uttered something with a bashful smile.

“I’m turning in early.” Y/N said, standing up. She pushed her plate of dessert towards Percy, who slowly took it.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling well so I think I’m going to sleep early. Good night, Percy.” She deeply inhaled as she walked away, catching Luke’s attention.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be back. I need to talk to someone.” He hurriedly got up, racing after Y/N. Percy, who was eating his second serving of cake, muffled a laugh. Luke was so whipped.

“Y/N.” The brunette boy finally caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “Why are you leaving early? We haven’t talked for weeks so I thought we could use today to catch up.”

Y/N stared at him in confusion before she turned her head and quietly laughed. She covered her mouth to conceal the noise. “Luke… it’s only been three days.”

His face dropped and he cleared his throat. “I know… I was testing you. That’s all.” Yet his eyes looked at everything but Y/N. “So, how has your cabin been?”

“Lonely. It doesn’t feel the same without Chris ranting about Clarisse.” Y/N sighed, lightly biting the inside of her cheek.

“I’m not sure if I can rant about Clarisse like Chris but I could try keeping you company.” Luke offered, gazing at Y/N with eyes that begged her to agree.

She merely shrugged, not stopping Luke from strutting into her cabin and lying down on her bed. He outstretched his arms, confusing Y/N. “Hug.” Was all he said.

Y/N was never much of an affectionate person but Luke certainly was. His gestures ranged from secretly fiddling with her fingers to picking her up and swinging her around in the middle of the battle arena.

Begrudgingly, Y/N closed the distance between them. Luke grinned, pulling her closer. A few moments later, Y/N attempted to pull away. Luke prevented her from doing so. “Five more minutes.” He whispered in her ear.

But those promised five minutes turned into an hour.

And a peaceful hour turned into all night.

And all night turned into the sun rising and Clarisse waking the pair up.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Luke.” The Ares girl snickered, folding her arms over her chest. “Your siblings are wondering where you went. I assume by the lack of clothes on the floor that you two did nothing. How surprising for you, Luke.”

“Clarisse.” Y/N warned, sitting up.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. See you at breakfast, Y/N.” Clarisse sent her friend a teasing wink before she slithered off, laughing to herself.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Luke muttered, stretching. He not-so-subtly placed an arm around Y/N and when she didn’t shove him away, he smiled.

“It’s fine. I’ve already prepared myself for whatever gossip is about to spread around camp.” Y/N leaned back, shaking her head, while Luke chuckled.

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Luke retorted.

Camp Half-Blood seemed obsessed with the little thing going on between Y/N and Luke. Friendship, romance, confusing situationship. The campers called it many things.

“I’m so tired.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. Luke took that as his chance to gaze at her. His eyes traced over the bridge of her nose and the curve of her Cupid’s bow.

He smiled to himself, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Luke. We need to get up.” As if suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity, Y/N stood up.

“Oh. Yeah. I know how you can’t miss breakfast because you get cranky without it.” Luke chuckled while Y/N shoved him.

“Get out, Luke!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. He bellowed out a laugh as he ran towards the exit.

“See you at breakfast, sweetheart!”

Y/N, with flushed cheeks and a racing mind, barged into the Ares cabin. “Clarisse.” She said, holding onto the doorframe for support. “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” Clarisse questioned as they walked side by side. Y/N sighed.

“Well, for starters, Luke is acting weird. I mean, he was always kind of weird but it’s gotten… more extreme. He’s getting so close and… calling me these pet names. What am I supposed to do? And why does it make me feel shy? Clarisse, help me!”

Y/N gripped her friend’s shoulders tightly. Clarisse lightly snorted. “Y/N, he’s just in love. Let the boy be.”

“In… love? W-With… me? In love with me?!” Y/N’s mind was spinning by now and it looked like this was her mid-life crisis. “He’s not… he can’t be… no… no… No! I have to go, Clarisse!”

Clarisse watched as Y/N sprinted off with the speed of a lightning bolt. “Haha. It’s so fun messing with them.”

“Hey, Clarisse. What’d you say to Y/N?” Luke immediately filled in Y/N’s spot. He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Y/N.

“I just told her how in love you are with her.” Clarisse winked and laughed at Luke’s appalled face.

“You… did what?” He questioned, panicking. “Why… why would you do that?! Clarisse! Shit!”

Luke, just like Y/N, rushed off. Clarisse smiled again. “So fun.”

Y/N hid within the comforts of her own cabin. She was supposed to teach some of the newbies archery but she was sure Clarisse could fill in for her.

“Luke… in love with me… no way.” She shook her head and deeply sighed, clutching onto her blanket. “He likes that Aphrodite girl.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Speak of the devil. Luke opened the door, grinning at her. “Sorry I’m late. I tried meditating but I ended up falling asleep.” Classic him. “I brought you some food. I gotta teach some kids sword-fighting soon but I thought I’d just leave this here.”

Luke had one leg out of the door before Y/N stopped him. “Luke, can you maybe, I don’t know… stay over tonight? Again? It feels less lonely with you.” Y/N spoke slowly, as if testing the waters.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure. I’d be happy to keep you company. You can count on me, Sparky.”

Y/N scoffed, staring at Luke with her lips parted. “Sparky? No way are you calling me that.”

“Too bad. See ya, Sparky!” Luke managed to close the door before the pillow Y/N tossed his way hit him. She scoffed, looking around yet no words came out of her mouth.

“Sparky… Sparky?!” Y/N exclaimed in disbelief. “What sort of nickname is that?!”

Luke, who stood outside the door and heard Y/N, chuckled. He ran his tongue over his teeth, “Cute.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s half-conscious nap. She stumbled to the entrance, slowly twisting the knob. “Hey.” She mumbled to Luke, who was holding an armful of snacks.

“Hey, Sparky.” He greeted her with his usual boyish smile. “Did I wake you?”

“I was just taking a small nap. You can always let yourself in, by the way.” Y/N muttered, yawning.

“I didn’t wanna be rude.” Luke replied as he stepped inside, brushing past Y/N. “Hey. I have an idea.” He suddenly said, spinning around. Y/N raised her eyebrows, gesturing him to continue. “I know you don’t like hanging out in this cabin so what do you say we check out the lake?”

“That’s breaking the rules.” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Come on, I wanna go on a walk. And I’m already breaking rules being here. A few more can’t hurt.”

Y/N wanted to say no but how could she when Luke was looking at her like that?

“Fine.” She softly agreed. Luke dropped the snacks onto Y/N’s bed before dragging her out of her cabin. She didn’t even have time to grab a jacket.

Luke placed a finger over his lips, telling Y/N to be quiet. The two carefully creeped through the words, quietly giggling as they shoved each other.

“It’s prettier at night.” Y/N whispered, staring at the lake that sparkled in the moonlight. Luke smiled, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” He replied, but he wasn’t looking at the glittering water. He was looking at Y/N. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Y/N turned her head, faltering when she saw that Luke was already gazing at her. His lips curved into a bright smile.

“So, so… beautiful.” He repeated, staring into her eyes.

“Luke.” She muttered, thickly gulping. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach. After years of pushing down her growing feelings for Luke, they were coming back.

“Y/N.” He chuckled, adjusting his stance. But he slipped and fell into the lake. Y/N gasped, staring into the murky darkness.

“Luke?” She called out. “Luke!” He resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water. A few moments passed before Y/N burst into laughter. She stepped forward but tripped over a stray tree root. She hit the water with a loud slap, shocking Luke. He gasped, quickly swimming over. “Sparky, you good?” Luke questioned, holding her tightly.

She coughed. “It hurt a little but I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for asking, Sparky.” He twirled a strand of Y/N’s wet hair around his finger, his gaze flickering to her lips. “Don’t kill me for this, Y/N.” He whispered, leaning forward.

His lips pressed against Y/N’s, who froze in shock. The kiss only lasted a moment before Luke pulled away, holding back the animalistic urge to do it again.

“I won’t kill you… if you don’t kill me.” Y/N quietly responded, grabbing Luke by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward.

The second kiss was less controlled, more wild. Luke held Y/N tightly, scared she would slip away if he lowered his guard. In this moment, Luke didn’t care about his drenched t-shirt or his soaking hair. All he cared about, and had cared about for the last few years, was the girl in front of him

“You kissed?!” Clarisse screamed, tugging on the ends of her curled hair.

“Hey! I don’t want everybody to know!” Y/N hurriedly shushed the girl. They were hanging around in the arena for some extra sword training and Y/N clumsily mentioned last night.

“Okay, but seriously. Reel back. You guys kissed? Not once, but twice? Oh, man, Y/N. You are so whipped for Luke!”

“I am not! Besides,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke, “I heard one of the new Aphrodite girls is interested in Luke.”

“What? And you’re just gonna let her have him? You’ve been crushing on Luke since you first saw him.”

“I wouldn’t call it that! It was admiration.” Y/N quickly snapped to defend herself. Clarisse mockingly raised an eyebrow.

“You couldn’t stop gushing over how he pushed you out of harm’s way when you got claimed.” The Ares kid pointed out.

Y/N huffed. “I mean, I’m a feminist, obviously. But… I wouldn’t really mind him saving me. I’m not entirely opposed… to the idea. I’m just torn, okay?!”

“What are you confused about? Luke obliviously has the hots for you too.”

“Luke and I have been good friends for ages! I’ve known him for ages too! If we start dating and it goes up in flames… I don’t only lose a partner but I also lose a friend! There’s so many factors to consider. So many things that could go wrong.”

“You already kissed. Sooner or later, he’s gonna confront you.” Clarisse’s eyes flickered to a figure behind Y/N, “And looks like he chose now. You wanna talk to him or do you want me to make a distraction?”

“Distraction, please. I’m not ready. I need to understand my own feelings before dealing with his.” Y/N practically begged Clarisse. Being such a good friend, the daughter of Ares nodded.

“I got your back, girl.” She walked past Y/N, blocking Luke’s path. “Yo, Luke, you interested in having a little spar?”

“Uh, actually, I need to talk to Y/N.” Luke uttered, glancing over at the H/C-haired girl.

“Y/N needs to check on someone. One of the Ares kids got badly injured. You go ahead, Y/N. I’ll be with you soon.” Clarisse waved her off. Y/N silently hurried off, avoiding all eye contact with Luke.

She wasn’t ready to face him just yet. I mean, what do you say to a friend you kissed? More like made out with. And passionately, might I add. Beside a lake at night.

Y/N knew Luke would go looking for her an hour before curfew, so that’s exactly why she sought refuge in the Ares cabin.

“This feels stupid.” She murmured as she rolled under one of the bed, shooing the dust away.

“He’s obviously going to try and ask Clarisse about your whereabouts. You only have to hide under there until he leaves.” Erin, a girl who was a year younger than Y/N, spoke. As predicted, Luke knocked at the door.

“Hey.” He said when Erin swung it open. “Is Y/N or Clarisse here? I need to talk to ether of them but Y/N would be preferred.”

Erin shook her head. “No. Clarisse is showering right now. Maybe check Apollo’s cabin for Y/N. She might be helping out with the injured. She does that sometimes.”

The second Luke disappeared, Y/N crawled out from under the bed. She combed away the dust in her hair. “I know what you’re thinking.” She grumbled, looking up at Erin. “Why am I going through all this trouble? It’s complicated. I’m not ready to face him… yet.”

Erin hummed as she stepped towards Y/N. “None of us will be helpful with advice but if you really want help, visit the Aphrodite cabin.”

That’s how Y/N found herself standing on a porch decorated with pink and hearts and shining pearls. She sighed to herself before she hesitatingly knocked. A short blond girl answered the door immediately.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” She said while Y/N stared at her in discomfort. “Not in a creepy way, though. I swear. We knew you’d need help with you-know-who so we kind of planned it already. Come in.”

The girl warmly guided Y/N inside, beaming. “Our head counsellor isn’t here at the moment but Mai should be plenty of help!” The blond girl pointed over to a brunette who sat on her bed, reading a book. She was dressed in black shorts and a pink crop top. But when Mai looked up, Y/N was sure she was judging her.

“On second thought,” Y/N nervously said, “Maybe I should come back another time. Maybe in the afternoon?”

“The time you come doesn’t matter.” Mai piped up, closing her book. She gazed at Y/N curiously. “You’re afraid of expressing your feelings, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know this was a therapy session.” Y/N lightly joked.

“Y/N, it’s obvious to everybody that you harbour some feelings towards Luke.” Mai said, pressing her pink-tinted lips into a thin line. “You guys are like the dynamic duo. I understand that dating someone who’s also a friend is scary but sometimes you’ve got to take the risk.”

“If you’re scared about going back to your cabin and running into Luke, you can crash here for the night.” The blonde girl from before offered. Nobody else seemed to have any problems with that so Y/N agreed.

She ended up on the bunk next to Mai, her unlicensed love therapist. Y/N tossed and turned but she still couldn’t fall asleep. She quietly groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Mai piped up, pursing her lips.

“No. I can’t help but worry.”

“Let me ask you one question, Y/N. Do you like him?”

“Luke?”

“I didn’t say a name.”

Y/N groaned again. “Fine. You got me. Yes. I guess I like him. I like his smile and how he’s always giving me food and how he barges in when I’m feeling lonely. I think his curled hair is adorable and there’s no other guy better-looking than him to me. But… I’m scared that I just like his platonically. Or what if we do date and I end up losing him?”

Mai smiled. “Don’t stress over it too much. You’re the daughter of Zeus, after all.”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Mai.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Luke approached Y/N the next day at breakfast. He let out a subtle sigh of relief when she didn’t run away. “Hey,” He whispered to her, tapping her shoulder and interrupting her conversation with Erin and Clarisse. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, yeah.” Y/N exchanged looks with both of the girls, who nodded and mouthed good luck. “What did you want to talk about?” Y/N asked when they were in the safety of her cabin and away from all the prying eyes. She played with the hem of her bright orange shirt.

“Forgive me for how blunt I’m going to be but what are we, Y/N?” Luke asked, not beating around the bush.

“We’re friends.” Y/N choked out, her conversation with Mai last night going down the drain. Perhaps it was selfish but a part of her wanted to remain friends because at least that way, neither of them would get hurt.

“No.” Luke wildly shook his head, “Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t spend the night in the other’s cabin. Friends don’t look at each other like we do. Friends don’t sneak out in the middle of the night to go to a lake and end up making out! And now you’re ignoring me!”

His voice increased in volume the more he spoke.

“That was a mistake, Luke! I-I didn’t meant to! It just happened! I’m not ignoring you! What makes you think that?!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think, Y/N? You’re always running off and our conversations are up and down now. Sometimes we don’t talk for days! Sometimes you seem obsessed with me! I don’t know what to think!”

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “If you’re not with Chris then you’re with that Aphrodite girl! You practically ignore me when you’re with her!” Y/N harshly poked his chest.

“I do not! And back to the previous conversation, was it really a mistake? Was hugging me a mistake? Was staring so adoringly at me a mistake? Was kissing me a mistake?! Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it wasn’t to me.” Luke caressed her face, holding it tightly. “Kissing you… will never be a mistake to me. Never, ever.”

Y/N gulped, practically shaking in Luke’s embrace. His lips lightly brushed her’s and she flinched.

“Sparky- Princess- Y/N,” He finally decided on what to call her in the heated moment. “I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. So if you don’t like me back… just tell me. Because I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after you. I get that you might be in denial but once I walk through those doors, I’m giving up.”

“Luke…”

“Do you like me or not?”

“Luke… please…” Y/N didn’t really know what she was begging for. Tears welled up in her eyes as he took a small step towards the door.

“Do you like me or not?” He repeated in a firmer tone.

Y/N silently stared at the ground, her hands clenched into fists.

“I guess I was wrong about you returning my feelings… I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll leave now.”

Y/N’s body moved on its own as she reached out to grab his arm and harshly pull him back. Her voice was supposed to be gentle but hanging out with Clarisse seemed to have an impact on her.

“Of course I like you, Luke! How could I not? But I’m afraid and confused and I don’t know what to do. I see the way other girls look at you. They like you. And I’m scared that I don’t stand a chance against them. And what if we mess up, Luke? If we date then break up, we won’t be able to be friends again. I can’t handle that!”

“I don’t think I can be just friends with you right now, Y/N.” Luke softly replied, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it. Y/N stared at him with flushed cheeks. “I don’t care about any of those other girls. The only person I care about is you. We don’t have to rush into a relationship but I just need to hear you say that you like me. That’s all I need for now. Can you do that for me?”

Y/N shakily inhaled. “I…” She hesitated. “I like you, Luke.”

Luke pulled her into a hug, smiling as he inhaled the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume. “That’s all I needed to hear, Sparky.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #rick riordan #romance #one shot #greek mythology #roman mythology #lana del rey #mythology and folklore #hermes #zeus #athena #aphrodite

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screamingwailing · 8 months

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Jealous/Aggressive!König x Reader Fic

CW: possessive!König, afab reader, oral (giving and receiving), aggressive unprotected sex, p in v action

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König is usually so kind and patient with you, so careful not to scare you or make you feel unsafe with his massive frame and dominating presence. He’s aware of how intimidating he can be, he normally strives for it, lives off the feeling of instilling fear. It’s how he’s so good at his job.

But…he isn't like that with you, never with you.

When he’s with you, Colonel König fades away, he just becomes yours. He can melt away from the blood, the death, the carnage. You’re his sanctuary.

So when he comes back after a long mission and he sees you still up, playing a game with one of those fucking friends of yours - friends that he can hear are men - he snaps and loses it.

With your headphones on you don’t even hear him open the door, don’t see him stalk into the room, jealousy and spite in his eyes.

All he wanted when he came home was to unwind into you, to turn into the person he only ever was and could be with you, and some random nobody was in the way of that. He couldn’t have that.

Without so much as a sound, he quickly turns you around in your chair, ripping your headset off, and muffling your frightened sounds with his massive hand. For the first time, you looked at him with fear. Why did he love it so?

Standing over you, hand covering your mouth and most of your face, gripping your head with a strength and force not familiar to you, you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. Gone is the man you fell in love with, in front of you was a monster no different from any other man on the battlefield.

He glares down at you with a fiery vengeance. “I’m home meine Kleines.”

Your head desperately moves, trying to escape his grasp, König gently tuts at you.

“Ah-ah, meine Liebe. What do you think you are doing? Did you not miss me?” His voice practically came out in a hiss, sneer under his mask.

You look up at him, a pleading look in your tear-filled gaze. You did, you missed him more than anything. Why else would you stay up all night playing games with people you barely cared to remember the names of? Why else would you have a constant stream of distractions? The loneliness in absence of your king was all-consuming. But this wasn’t him, surely. Your König would never hurt you, never scare you like this.

He brings his other hand up to his masked face, signaling you to be quiet. You nod as much as he allows. Satisfied by your obedience, he slowly shifts the hand covering your mouth to instead firmly grab your chin and cheeks, his thumb and forefinger wrapping around you with a dull pain.

“Doll, why is it that when your king came home to you, you weren’t waiting in bed? Did my absence mean nothing to you? Were you off trying to find someone new?” At this, the grip around you tightens, causing you to wince, tears falling down his fingers.

Seeing you wince, König falters for just a moment, his grip loosening just enough to allow you to speak.

“N-no! I-…I would never! Please, why are you being like this, what did I do wrong?”

Wrong answer. As if possessed, König’s eyes darken and grow cold once more. “Lügen! You lie, little mouse.”

He looms over you, rage and turmoil in his gaze. Desperate to get through to him, your voice becomes shrill with desperation. “I’m not lying, I promise! Please, you’re hurting me, let go!”

König considers this for a moment, then cocks his head to the side, his eyes almost glowing red from the light of your computer. “Nein, I will not let go of you again. It seems I need to remind you who you belong to.”

You gulp, your fear tingling with arousal. Regardless of his fearsome state, you can’t help but feel your body react to his words, your legs squirming together. König’s eyes flick towards the movement, not missing your reaction.

Voice filled with an almost childlike mirth, he chuckles at this. “Ah, it seems your body remembers, even if its treacherous owner strays.”

He leans towards your head, breathing your scent in deeply. “I have missed you, so, meine Liebe. If only you had stayed good for me…if only I were enough for you.”

Your eyes meet his, his mask still covering a majority of his expression. You don’t understand, he was his normal affectionate self when he had left for his most recent mission. You can feel your pulse rapidly beating in your throat, but still, you can’t help but notice the pain in his eyes. And even more obvious than this, the protruding bulge in his tactical pants. You’re afraid…you’re afraid but…it’s still König. You’d trust him with your life. You sharply inhale through your nose, closing your eyes momentarily, then exhaling and meeting his gaze once more. You’re no longer afraid.

His massive hand is still gripping your face tightly, but he notices the change in your demeanor and steps back in confusion. You gently reach out, as if scared to frighten him. Your much smaller hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hand back up to your throat.

“I missed you too, König. More than you could ever know. You know you’re the only one for me. You’re my everything.” Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, bordering on obsession.

König looks at you, conflicted, before his eyes harden once more. He steps forwards, his hand tightening around your throat. “Prove it to me. Prove to me that I am the only one for you.”

He lets go of your throat, instead guiding your head towards his straining bulge. Without wasting a moment, you lunge forward, as if starved. In a way, you were; it had been so long since your king had been home with you. You make sure to lock eyes with him as your teeth close around his zipper, pulling it down agonizingly slow. He groans in anticipation, his fingers sliding through your hair. He impatiently tugs, urging you on. Wanting to please, you kiss him through his boxers, suckling and gently biting along his shaft through the fabric.

“Enough teasing, Liebe. I want your mouth around me” He grits out, his pupils blown out in arousal.

Your heart rate increases again, this time in anticipation, as you tug his clothing down. His cock bounces up against his stomach and you almost moan at the sight. Without wasting any time, you engulf his tip between your lips, making sure to wrap your tongue around at the same time. He hisses in surprise, his cock already starting to leak in your mouth. You suck harder on his tip, savoring the taste of him. You lock eyes as you take him deeper, tears already forming from the stretch in your mouth. His head falls back for a moment, lost in pleasure, before gripping your hair tighter.

“Deeper” he growls out. It’s not a request, it’s an order, and you’re more than happy to comply.

Taking him deeper, you gag around him. He’s so fucking big, you can barely continue. You wrap your hands around his thick shaft, making sure to pump whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Your drool drips down him, mixing with his precum. You moan around him, bobbing your head faster, trying to take him as deep as you can.

“Scheiße, that’s it. Such a good little whore for me. God, have I missed this mouth.”

König looks down on you, shoving your head down further as his eyes roll back in pleasure. You gag around him, tears streaming down your face. You aren’t used to him manhandling you like this, but you can’t deny what it does to you. You feel the heat between your legs, the growing wet spot in your underwear only getting worse with each passing moment. Something about the utter possession and loss of control makes you crazy, your mouth bobbing faster, drool dripping all the way down to König’s heavy balls.

Looking up at him with your tear streaked cheeks and red eyes, König can’t help but groan at the sight, his balls tightening. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, especially since it’s been so long since he last felt you.

König’s grip on your hair grows painful as he lets out a low moan. “Kleines, take it for me. I’m going to cum down your throat. You’ll be such a good whore and swallow it all for me, ja?”

You hum your approval around him, groaning in anticipation. The vibration sends him over the edge and you feel hot liquid spurt down your throat. As promised, you do your best to swallow every drop, your mind hazing with the taste and overwhelming sensation of König all around you. Despite your best efforts, you begin to choke, his cum seemingly never ending. He pulls your head back, finishing his climax on your face. You look up at him with a look of utter bliss, eyes clouded in lust, cum dripping down your face and down your chin.

“My god, look at you, Schatz. So perfect for me, such a good little cumslut. Gutes Mädchen.” König’s voice is gravelly from the pleasure, praise spilling from his lips like a prayer.

His strong arms lift you up as he carries you to your bedroom. Completely cumdrunk, you don’t even notice until you feel him throw you onto the bed. Like a predator stalking his prey, König’s massive frame draws closer, the bed creaking under his weight. He grips your thighs strong enough to bruise as he spreads them. He lifts his mask up just enough to show his chiseled jaw and scarred lips, his long tongue tracing his near fang-like canines as he takes in the delicious sight of you before him.

“Meine Kleine, you did so well for me. Let me reward you” König practically purrs out, before he lifts your legs upwards as he dives towards your heat.

Still cumdrunk, you moan at the sudden pleasure, your mind further clouding with König’s skilled tongue at work. You feel him expertly work you, his tongue pushing deep within you as he thumbs your clit. He groans against you and you can feel his grin against your cunt. His nose presses against your clit as he pushes his tongue in deeper, adding a finger to further your pleasure. You feel his finger push up against the spot that makes you see stars as his tongue slips out of you and over your sensitive clit. You scream out, unable to stop your cries. This only spurs him on more, König positively ravenous for you, drinking in every noise you make. He noisily laps around your clit, sensing your oversensitivity, as he adds a second thick finger. You whine at the stretch, wanting more while also adjusting to the intrusion.

“P-please, König! I need you, please, please-” you beg for him, watching his breath quicken in response.

König pulls away from your dripping pussy to shush you,“Shh, patience, Schatz. All in due time.”

You whine in response, attempting to buck your hips against his face. He holds your legs tighter, squeezing them and pulling them more firmly while pushing you against the bed. You can’t help but twitch in response, loving how easily he can maneuver you. One hand is enough to hold you down while the other brutally fucks into your heat, relentlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping against your clit as he laps around your folds. You can feel your climax building, keening and squirming in his grasp. A silent scream escapes your lips as you feel König wrap his mouth around your sensitive nub, sucking your clit while still working your soaking cunt.

“There it is, Schatz, let go for your King. Show me that you belong to me, that you will only cum for me.”

Your release rips through you violently, your vision going white as your entire body lifts and shakes, trembling through the powerful orgasm. König continues to roughly finger you through it, torturing you with his continuous ministrations. He smirks down at you as you attempt to squirm away.

“Now, now, Liebe. You didn’t think I would be satisfied with just that, did you? I know you can cum again for me.”

König latches his mouth around you once again, his fingers rhythmically abusing your sensitive insides, pumping them against your spot over and over. You scream as another orgasm is ripped from you, tears once again streaming down your face. Panting from the overexertion, your legs quake and twitch.

“Gutes Mädchen, such a good slut for me” König looks at you smugly, pride and confidence clearly showing in his eyes.

Still between your legs, you feel something hot against your entrance. König continues to grip your legs tightly, looking at you with a new glint in his eyes: a look of predation, of total need and lust. You shudder, another wave of arousal hitting your already exhausted body.

“Are you ready, meine Liebe?” König looms over you, a toothy grin set on his face as he pushes inside you.

You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you’re entirely filled, the stretch of König’s fingers nothing in comparison to his monstrous cock. Long and girthy, he fills you like no one else, reminding you with each thrust just who you belong to. As he pounds into you, your throat becomes raw with broken sobs and moans. He fucks you like an animal, all need and desire, carnal nearly to the point of pain. König folds you in half with his massive frame, tantalizing moans and grunts coming from above you as he fucks you faster.

You can tell he’s about to cum, to completely fill you inside and mark you as his. As his orgasm approaches his thrusts become erratic and impatient, sounds of skin slapping against skin and dueted moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom. You’re about to cum for a third time, this time with him.

As König’s orgasm tears through him he lunges his mouth forward, attacking your throat with his sharp canines. Practically growling around your throat, he marks you both inside and out, painting your insides with his cum while he draws blood on your throat.

He collapses on top of you for a moment before slowly rising and looking at your fucked-out expression. As if the spell on him finally dissipated, König calms for the first time since his arrival. He gently strokes your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead. He collapses back against your chest, clinging to your form tightly. “I..I’m sorry, meine Liebe. When I was in the field you were all I thought of. Every day, I only thought of returning to you. To come home to you speaking to another, I couldn’t bear it.”

You sigh softly before looking at him with a soft smile before saying the words you’ve been practicing in secret, “Du bist mein ein und alles, König”.

His eyes widen at this, then soften and close once more, finally content and at peace with his love. No more words need to be exchanged, you both understand what you mean to one another. Finally, you could rest with your König.

hello meowdy! this is my first fic, pls b kind ;;

#konig #könig #konig x reader #konig cod #cod smut #mint writes #cod mw2 #konig fic

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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.”

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

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

The Younger Kind Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to regret showing up for Noah's birthday party once you feel exactly how awkward things are between you and Bradley. But when you witness his jealousy and learn that his hurtful words were more lies than truth, you agree to at least hear him out.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

When Bradley managed to pull his head out of his ass long enough to invite you to Noah's birthday party, he hadn't anticipated what it would be like if you actually came. You texted him back on Friday, letting him know you would try to stop by. But now that he and Nat were setting everything up, Bradley was feeling anxious.

Every time a guest arrived, he poked his head outside to see if your car was there, only to be disappointed. He wanted to see you. That much was plainly evident now. But he wanted to do way more than that. He missed you so much.

"She'll be here," Nat told him as she held Noah. "There's no way she's going to be able to live with herself if she disappoints this little guy. Isn't that right, Noah? Now pout at your dad."

Bradley laughed as Noah and Nat both made sad, pouty faces at him. "You're right. Nobody could say no to that," Bradley said, blowing a raspberry on his son's neck until they were both laughing.

Jake strolled in with two six packs of beer and looked around. "Happy birthday, Noah. Where's your babysitter, little dude?"

Bradley rolled his eyes in response, and just as he was about to say he wasn't sure if you were even coming, you opened the front door and met Bradley's eyes right away.

"Hi," you said softly, your arms filled with gift bags and treats as you shifted everything around nervously.

"Princess," Bradley said before he could catch himself. His heart was pounding as you bit your glossy lip anxiously and turned your attention to Noah.

"Happy birthday!" As soon as you said those two words, you had Noah's full attention, and he squirmed to get out of Nat's arms and run to you. Bradley watched you kneel and set everything on the floor so Noah could hug you.

"See? He needs her here. And I don't think he's the only one," Nat whispered as she shoved Bradley toward you. But Jake was right there as well, and Bradley knew for a fact that Hangman was interested in you. He'd been not so subtly asking about you since he saw the photo of you on Bradley's phone at the Hard Deck. The photo of you wearing your purple crown.

"You must be the babysitter," Jake drawled with a grin as he approached you on the floor with Noah. He was looking down the front of your little dress, Bradley just knew it. And when you looked up at him with innocent eyes, nodding and introducing yourself, Bradley was on the verge of kicking Jake out of his house. Because it looked indecent, the way you were positioned and the way Jake was easing himself a little closer still.

Bradley cleared his throat loudly. "I'll just take these into the kitchen," he said, scooping up the gifts. And that's when he noticed you'd made a whole container of ants on logs wearing party hats made out of lettuce. Bradley wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to his room, make love to you, and never hurt you again. He met your eyes, kneeling just a foot away from you while Noah pawed at you.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked far less pleased when you were looking at Bradley than you did when you were looking at Noah or Jake. He deserved that. He knew he did. He was lucky you even decided to come today to make Noah happy.

Oh god, Bradley wanted to take back every horrible word he said to you, but he couldn't. The damage was done now, just as he had originally intended. And he had to watch as Jake helped you stand and run his fingers up your uninjured arm.

"Hi!" called two of the moms of Noah's daycare friends as they walked in with their own kids, taking Bradley's attention away from you. He greeted them and their children, and ended up adding even more gift bags to his arms.

Then Mav and Penny arrived. Bradley let Penny take his face in her hands and pat his cheeks, something he probably wouldn't let anyone else do to him. And then she kissed him and asked, "How's the dating thing working out for you?"

Bradley laughed sardonically. "I've pushed that to the back burner, Pen."

"Yeah. Mav told me that Meredith is giving you a hard time. If there's anything we can do...?"

"I appreciate it. I'll let you know."

When Bradley finally went into the kitchen to put Noah's snacks in the refrigerator and set down the gifts, he froze. You had already made your way in here. Your back was to him, and you were talking to Jake. Bradley could hear your laughter in response to something Jake said, and he had never been so jealous before. He was so used to coaxing that gorgeous sound from your lips himself. Those glossy lips that Jake was eyeing up, no doubt thinking about doing something dirty to them.

Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you turned to glance at him over your shoulder with a bland look. He was so used to your flirtatious smile and bright, wide eyes being focused on him. God, he had taken it all for granted, and now you couldn't stand him.

And if Bradley thought he had been jealous a moment ago when Jake made you laugh, it was nothing compared to the outrage he felt as he watched Jake touch your waist. He squeezed you gently, letting his fingers dig into the fabric of your floral dress. All of the gifts tumbled out of Bradley's hands and onto the table, and you sidestepped Jake's grubby little hand to turn and look at him.

"One of my gifts is fragile," you said with annoyance, rooting through the pile to make sure it was okay. But Bradley was looking at Jake, and Jake was looking right back at him before his eyes dipped down to your ass.

"Seresin. Let's go outside. Now," Bradley growled, pointing at the sliding glass door off the kitchen.

Jake's little smirk grew as he said, "Sure thing, Bradshaw," and headed out.

Bradley slid the door closed with a thud and rounded on Jake. "Don't touch her."

Jake laughed heartily. "You fucking her, Rooster? Damn, you must be. Or you were." He paused, and Bradley could feel his cheeks heating up. "Maybe it wasn't any good for her? Because right now, she's not looking at you at all, man."

Bradley ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists. "Don't touch her, and don't talk about her. Don't even fucking look at her."

But Jake just cocked his head. "Hey, that's some great advice. And here's some for you. If you have access to a hot little piece of ass like that, you don't keep her tucked away in your house. You show that off. Let everyone know about it. That's what I'd do."

"Jake. Just stop." Bradley was fuming now, and also annoyed that he was letting Hangman get under his skin. But Jake was right; Bradley should have been showing you off when he had the chance instead of going on dates with the women from the app. Maybe then you and he would be in a place where he could be bold enough to ask you to stay with him in spite of Meredith.

"Why should I? Are you dating her?"

Bradley closed his eyes for a beat and let out a puff of air. "No."

"If you don't want her, why can't I have her?"

Bradley shook his head. "I never said that."

You opened the sliding glass door and poked your head outside, and both men stood at attention for you. "The pizzas are here," you told Bradley. "Want me to pay the guy with the money behind the TV?"

Bradley cleared his throat and glared at Jake for a second. "I'll take care of it, Princess," he said, pausing in the doorway with you. He had missed being this close to you, close enough to smell wildflowers. Your expression was softer now, almost that of an injured animal. He wanted to apologize for hurting you, but he settled for letting his fingers trace your knuckles before he pulled out his wallet for the pizzas.

You didn't flinch. You didn't back away. But that look in your eye grew a little sadder, and Bradley knew he had put it there. "Princess," he whispered, softer this time, and your lips parted before you turned and walked away from him and outside to Jake.

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

You were a mess. You shouldn't have come to the birthday party. All you wanted was to see Noah and bring him some treats, but it was killing you to be around Bradley, pretending like you weren't crushed.

And the second you had let your guard down, Jake started flirting with you. Which was fine. It didn't really matter. He seemed sweet enough even though he kept cornering you in conversation every time you tried to talk to Penny. You did manage to sneak away as Nat waved you over. But you could tell by the sympathetic look in her eyes that she knew Bradley had basically dumped you.

"Hey, Natasha. It's nice to see you," you managed with a small smile.

"I'm really happy you came," she replied as Noah ran up to hug your leg before returning to his friends. He had been hanging out with you more than anyone else, really. "And clearly so is the birthday boy."

"Yeah, well... I'm kind of attached to him, sadly," you said with a forced laugh. Then you asked the question that had been on your mind since you arrived. The one you were afraid to hear the answer to. "Hey, is Meredith coming?"

Nat's eyes went wide and she almost dropped her slice of pizza. "Hell no. Why would Meredith be here? In fact, I would go so far as to say that if she decides to show up, I will drag her outside myself and make her leave."

You were gaping at her. "She and Bradley aren't... talking? About getting back together? For Noah?"

Now she really did drop her pizza right onto the hardwood floor. "Who told you that?!"

"Nobody."

Bradley had lied to you about Meredith. But why? What would be the point in that? And if he wanted to hurt you, then why did he invite you here today? Why was he looking at you like he missed you and calling you Princess instead of ignoring you?

You bent and used your napkin to wipe up the cheese and sauce, and when you stood, Nat looked like she was about to rage. Without another word, she took off in Bradley's direction leaving you with so many questions swirling around in your mind.

When you made your way back into the kitchen to throw the napkin away, you decided it would be a good idea for you to just sneak out the back door and head home. You once again felt drained and undesirable and disrespected. It didn't really matter how badly you wanted to be here for Noah if Bradley wasn't going to be honest with you about what was going on. You reached for the container of snacks for Noah and set it in the refrigerator, and then you turned to find Jake right behind you.

"Oh!" you gasped, jumping awkwardly. "I didn't know you were in here."

His smile was so charming, you could do nothing but smile back as he said, "Just came in for more pizza, but found something so much nicer instead." He touched your arm again, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're a shameless flirt," you informed him, as if he didn't know that already.

"What? You don't like that?" he asked, taking a step closer.

You matched his smirk with your own. "Maybe I like a guy who can be subtle sometimes."

"Hey, that sounds like my good friend Bradshaw," he said, running his thumb slowly up to your shoulder. "But maybe he's a little too subtle? A little too reserved? You deserve to be set right on a pedestal. All out in the open."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. This was absolutely ridiculous. "No, I think I would prefer a throne. Like a Princess. In a castle," you told him, thinking about all the castles you and Noah had built out of blocks while wearing your paper crowns. Thinking about the times you and Bradley had been so comfortable together, talking on his couch.

"Okay," Jake drawled. "I like where this is headed. And if Bradshaw doesn't want you, I definitely do, Princess."

You opened your mouth to tell him not to call you that, but he was already leaning in and kissing you.

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

Bradley saw red. He never really understood that expression before. It never made sense. Until right now. It felt and looked like all of the blood in his body was obscuring his vision. And all he wanted to do was make Jake Seresin hurt.

Jake's hands were on your face and neck, and his lips were pressed to yours. Right in the middle of Bradley's kitchen.

Bradley just got finished being reamed out by Nat for being the world's biggest dickhead, so he was already on edge. Already looking to apologize to you and hoping you'd listen to him. But the sight of Jake kissing you was just one step too far, and he wasn't going to let this fly.

With three swift steps, Bradley was right there, grabbing Jake by the shoulder and pulling him away from you. The startled look in your eyes, and the way you were still holding your arms tight to your sides had Bradley shoving Jake against the refrigerator.

"I warned you, Hangman," he growled, but Jake just smirked and licked his lips like he was savoring the way you tasted. The fact that he now also knew how nice your lipgloss was had Bradley seeing double.

"Bradley, it's okay. Stop." Your voice was soft, and then he could feel your hand on his back through his shirt. He turned away from Jake and focused his attention on you instead, unclenching his fists.

"Come with me, Princess." His voice was deep and raspy, and when he wrapped his arm around your waist, you spun away from him.

"Bradley!" you demanded, a little louder this time.

"Please?" he asked, and when he leaned down and kissed your forehead in front of anyone who might be looking, you let him take your hand and lead you into the bathroom. When he closed the door, you leaned back against it and bit your lip in silence.

"What the fuck are you doing to me, Princess?" Bradley asked, his tone pleading. "I can't even look at you, baby. I can't even smell you without hating myself even more."

"Good," you whispered as your gaze settled on his lips. "Where's Meredith?" you asked maliciously. "I haven't seen her all day."

He knew now that you and Nat had spoken. You knew he lied to you last weekend. "She's not coming, and you know it."

"Why did you lie to me about her?"

He swallowed hard. "Princess, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Why? I don't understand! And why do you suddenly care about me today? You told me I'm not right for you. You told me you needed someone better. You said you didn't want this." You gestured to yourself and looked away from him like you were ashamed.

Bradley gently guided your chin with his fingers until you were looking at him again. "I fucking lied about that, too. You're the only thing I want." He eased himself closer to you, desperate to feel your body against his.

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed on his chest. "You can't keep doing this to me. Leave me alone, Bradley. I don't have time to mess around with you. I know how much you hated doing that with me."

"We weren't just messing around, Princess," he said softly as he backed away from you. He was silently begging you not to open the door and leave him as he swallowed hard. "It meant something to me."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head back against the door. He watched your fingers grab at the hem of your dress as you looked at him reluctantly. "Bradley," you whispered. "It meant something to me, too." The anger was gone from your eyes now as you asked him, "Why did you try to hurt me like that on purpose? If you want me, why would you do that?"

"I'm just trying to protect you." He knew he was pleading, and he knew you deserved to hear everything. You also deserved a hell of a lot more than he could give you, and he didn't want to have an hour-long conversation with you in his bathroom during Noah's birthday party.

"Protect me?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. I just want to protect you," he whispered, running his fingers along your bandaged arm. "Will you let me touch you, Princess?"

You reached for his hand, and Bradley let you take the lead. When you linked your fingers through his and gave a little tug, he went willingly. You pulled him close until you and he were breathing the same air, and he could feel your body heat.

"Protect me from what?" you asked softly, and Bradley had to brace his other hand on the door next to your head as you kissed the edge of his lips softly. "I don't need you to protect me. I need you to appreciate me. Show me some respect. I'm not stupid."

His heart was pounding at the feel of your lips on his skin. "I know you're not stupid, baby. I'm the one who can't get his shit straight. Not you. I'll tell you everything," he promised, panting slightly. "I swear. Just stay. After everyone else leaves, please stay. Let me explain? Let me be good to you?"

Your eyes were alert, examining his face, trying to make sense of everything. When your tongue darted out to wet your lips, you said, "Okay. I'll stay. But you only get one chance, Bradley."

"I won't fuck it up. I promise. I've missed you so much."

This time you kissed him square on the lips, pulling him closer still by your linked fingers. The soft fabric of your dress was rubbing along his hand, and he knew he would give you anything you wanted. But he had to know, so he released your lips.

"Baby, what the hell were you doing with Jake?"

You paused before saying, "Just talking."

Bradley shook his head at you. "No. Your lips don't need to be touching his if you're just talking."

You sucked in a breath as he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each finger. "He kissed me," you whispered. "He called me Princess."

"No," Bradley grunted. "I call you Princess. And he doesn't get to kiss you. Especially not in my house. Tell me I'm better."

Your eyes flashed with sudden need. "You're jealous."

He nodded and kissed your pinky. "You're goddamn right I'm fucking jealous." The softest smirk touched your lips before Bradley leaned in and kissed you. "Am I better than Jake?"

You were smiling now, your eyes wide. "I can't believe you're jealous over me."

Bradley growled. "Am I better?"

"You're better, Bradley."

He covered your lips with his while you rubbed your hand gently along his abs.

"You're such a good girl. Too good for Jake."

"Bradley!" you moaned as he kissed you again. He couldn't keep his lips off you now. This was all he wanted to do. Just kiss you. But he needed to get out of the bathroom before he did something stupid again.

"I know, baby," he whispered against your cheek. "We're gonna talk later. Let's go back out there. And you can tell Jake that you're not interested in him."

You laughed softly. "You want me to go tell him that I'm not interested in him? Because you're jealous?"

Bradley just nodded again. "You go tell him, Princess. Now. And then later on we can talk more."

"Okay, fine," you whispered smugly, and Bradley opened the bathroom door. He watched you walk on slightly unsteady legs as you made your way toward Jake in the living room. Every couple seconds, you smirked back over your shoulder, and Bradley silently urged you on.

Jake eyed you up and down and then met Bradley's eyes as you spoke to him. He looked annoyed now. Bradley felt elated.

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

Bradley was jealous! He had lied to you about everything, and now he was jealous that you were giving Jake attention. This day was turning out so much better than you thought it was going to.

You took a deep breath, looked at Jake and said, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier, but I'm not interested in you. Not like that."

"Huh," Jake grunted. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, Princess."

It sounded so wrong, hearing that nickname from anyone other than Bradley and Noah. "Please, don't call me that."

Jake's smirk, which was kind of cute an hour ago, was grating on your nerves now. You wanted Bradley to haul you back to the bathroom again, or better yet, his bed. His handsome face was all you could think about as you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye.

"You know, Bradshaw's alright," Jake drawled, and you turned back to him. "Just the slowest one to make his move on a girl. Don't wait around on him if you want more. He has more baggage weighing him down than anyone I've ever-"

You immediately cut him off. "Don't talk about Noah like that."

"Whoa," he said, chuckling and holding his hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant. I mean the emotional kind. He's been through a lot. It slows him down, makes him hesitate. That's all I'm saying."

"Well thank you for your concern," you replied sarcastically. "But I think they are both worth the wait." You turned toward Bradley where he was talking to one of the daycare moms, and when you walked past him, you let your fingers trail along his lower back. He turned, and the look he gave you almost made your steps falter as you made your way into the kitchen.

If Bradley and Meredith weren't trying to work things out, if there was another reason why he tried to break things off with you, then you'd figure things out with him. And you wouldn't rush him. Because he couldn't stay away from you, and you couldn't stay away from him either. And you didn't want to have to try to fight it.

"Help me get the cake ready?" Nat asked when she saw you.

"Sure," you replied, opening up disposable plates and getting four candles ready for Noah. You had to keep biting your lip at the memory of kissing Bradley in the bathroom. You were distracted, and Nat must have asked you something.

"I'm sorry, what?"

She just shook her head. "I know Bradley is an idiot, but please, give him another chance. And you should stay away from Jake."

Had everyone seen him kiss you before? "I wasn't trying to-"

"When Bradley settles down, it will be for life. Meredith definitely stunted his ability to commit, but that fact still remains. Jake's got a different method, if you know what I'm saying. Not one to commit to a hairstyle, let alone a woman. So don't listen to him. Now, can you carry the birthday cake out to the living room?"

You just nodded slowly at her words and took the cake to Noah while Nat lit the candles. The room was full of people, and there were so many voices singing to Noah while Bradley stood next to you with his son in his arms. But it felt like just the three of you. Just like all the other times in Bradley's living room and kitchen. His deep voice warmed you everywhere as his fingers stroked up your spine when Noah blew out the candles.

"Did you make a wish?" you asked, and Noah's exaggerated nodding made you laugh. "I'm sure it will come true."

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

Bradley kept glancing your way as you and Noah opened up one of his new toys to play with on the living room couch. You liked his eyes on you. You liked his attention. You liked knowing he was jealous earlier.

"You want me to make you some coffee, Princess?" he asked, popping back into the living room as you and Noah raced cars across the floor.

"No, we're busy," you told him with a smirk, looking up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning up with Nat and Penny?"

He took a step closer and said, "I just want to make sure you're not leaving yet?"

You shook your head. "You asked me to stay. I told you I'll stay."

Bradley grunted and went back into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Penny and Pete came out. "You ready to go, kiddo?" Penny asked Noah. "You're coming with us for a sleepover." Noah looked up at her from his spot on your lap before he turned around to wrap his arms around your neck.

"That sounds like fun, Noah!" you told him, giving him a squeeze back. You were going to miss him so much. You'd already been missing him like crazy after just a week without him. Hopefully Bradley would help you make sense of things, because you didn't want to have to keep missing him or his son.

Noah gave you a kiss, and then Bradley handed Penny an overnight bag and scooped Noah up in a hug. "I love you. Be good for Penny and Mav." And then they were gone, and Bradley was looking at you on the floor in front of him.

Nat poked her head out of the kitchen as Bradley reached down to help you up with hopeful eyes. "How do you want me to wrap up the rest of this cake?" she asked, holding up a roll of aluminum foil. Then she looked between the two of you, and you stepped away from Bradley as she asked, "Wait, it's just the three of us left? Wrap up the cake yourself," she said, tossing the roll to Bradley and grabbing her bag. "Bye."

You watched Nat breeze out the front door without a backward glance. "What was that all about?" you asked, suddenly very aware that you were now alone with him.

He laughed softly. "She wants me to finish talking to you. Now, apparently."

"Well then, talk," you said, taking another step away from him toward the kitchen. "And don't make me cry again. If you do, I'm leaving."

He looked a little panicked, which made you feel like you were completely in control of things for once. He followed you cautiously as you went to investigate how much of the cake was left. Just when you turned toward him to reach for the roll of foil, Bradley set it on the counter and shook his head.

"I can take care of that later, Princess," he mumbled, caging you in against the counter and kissing you softly.

You moaned and reached for him immediately, kissing him back, he was still so sweet, and even less demanding than he had been in the bathroom. But then you jerked back, bracing your hands on his forearms.

"What's going on, Bradley? You're still all over the place. Tell me everything," you demanded, your volume rising with each sentence as he looked abashed. "Nat spilled the beans about Meredith. Then you told me you lied to me. You got jealous about Jake. But you sent me away in tears a week ago. Just...what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have never said those things to you last weekend. I didn't mean a single word of it. I was just trying to protect you."

"You keep saying that!" you complained, pushing on his forearms until he let you move away from him. "But you're not saying anything at all." You ran your fingers along your bandaged arm. "And I already got hurt."

"Princess." Bradley followed you across the kitchen to the table, but you pushed on his chest and shook your head.

"Do not make me regret staying here right now," you whispered, and he took a deep breath. "Don't make me regret kissing you in the bathroom."

He stood up straight and ran his hands through his hair. His lips looked pouty and kissable. His cheeks were flushed like they had been earlier. But you were going to stand your ground with him.

When he didn't say anything, you pressed harder. "Talk to me." You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and looked at you intently, but he still said nothing. "I'm leaving."

"No!" gasped, reaching for you again, pulling you closer. You were going to protest again, but then he whispered, "I need you."

"For what, Bradley?"

His voice sounded soft, almost defeated as he told you, "Meredith wants custody of Noah."

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

Come on, jealous Daddy! Tell Princess everything! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 16

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geeks-universe · 25 days

Text

The Fallen pt. 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: This contains smut.

Cooper was angry.

No, he’d been angry when the shit-for-brains had the audacity to look at you like he was stripping your body bare with his eyes.

Now, he was furious.

Rage was an easy emotion, a comfortable one. For years it’d been his only companion, and slipping back into its familiar embrace felt almost natural to him.

Lucy had been too preoccupied with saying goodbye to her lover boy to see the carefully lidded fury, a snake in the grass ready to strike.

You’d noticed though.

Of course you noticed, just like you did every other damn thought that crossed his mind. Maybe you’d noticed the hundred different ways he’d imagined popping that weasel’s head off, of making you pay for the tiniest bit of himself he couldn’t let die.

When you’d proclaimed a shelter for the night- a sad little shack with three walls- Lucy had wandered off with some lame excuse of looking for supplies, the dog trotting happily along with her. Or maybe it was checking the perimeter. He didn’t care, hoped she died, really.

You set a lantern on the ground between the two of you, laying out your pack to get comfortable on the floor. Cooper didn’t bother, couldn’t sit down while the fire burned through his veins. It roared through every inch of his body, consuming him with a vexation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

That fucking roach should’ve lost his hands for touching you, for thinking himself deserving of your silky skin.

“You should rest.”

He barked a laugh- a harsh, aggravated noise wrangled from his chest.

“Ain’t as delicate as you.”

It was meant to be an insult, and fuck didn’t that just piss him off that you let it slide right off you. Unbothered, the same way you’d been the day he first met you.

The same way you’d been when that rat had scurried to you, vying for your attention.

“Coop-“

“So now you want to speak to me?” He straightened his back, standing to his full height as he glared down at your sitting figure.

It was an intimidation tactic, and he knew you well enough to know that it wouldn’t have the effect he was hoping, but it would make you privy to his frustrations.

“Seems like I’m a great choice when I’m the only one.”

Confusion furrowed your brows, quickly replaced by understanding. You let out a low sigh, eyes tracing Cooper’s figure in the dim light.

He didn’t like that you could be so calm, that you didn’t feel his wrath.

“You’re jealous.”

He snarled, angry at the insinuation- even more so that it was correct. It wasn’t just jealousy though.

You were his.

He hadn’t had something worth holding onto in a long damn time, and nobody would take what was his.

“If I was jealous everytime you opened those pretty legs for someone else, I’d never get any rest.”

Your eyes flashed- hurt, followed quickly by anger.

Good.

He wanted you angry.

Wanted you to feel the inferno in your chest, the way he did- to let it consume you in a blaze of abandon, come undone at the seams and show the person beneath.

“We’re not doing this,” you stated bluntly, still holding onto the last bit of restraint.

That wouldn’t do.

He wanted you unraveled, raw.

“Runnin’ won’t change a damn thing.”

Your hands pressed into your knees, a quick outlet of irritation before you stood up. Your eyes were still burning, but it wasn’t enough. You still had too much control.

“You’re such an ass.”

The smirk he flashed was cruel.

“‘M honest,” he argued, “and doesn’t that just piss you off?”

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, eyes unfocused as you talked yourself down. He was so close, you just needed a little push.

“Poor little dove, just wants to run away from her problems like she did her family.”

Bingo.

Faster than a blink, you were in his face, your teeth bared as you raised a fist. He took the opportunity, watching your rage swelter as he grabbed hold of your wrist and twisted it behind you.

Fuck if your rage wasn’t the most intoxicating thing- the rise and fall of your chest hypnotic, the bare of your teeth captivating. You growled, an angry, ominous noise that went straight to his cock.

Your back was pressed against his front, moving with the rhythm of your erratic breathing, teasing friction exactly where he wanted you. His fingers pressed into your wrist harder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. You weren’t fighting his hold- waiting, listening.

“Maybe that’s why your daddy left you too.”

Your eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as you tried to pull your hand from him. He held fast though, put every ounce of his strength into restraining you. You lashed out like a wild animal, movements irrational and erratic. Finally, when it was clear you wouldn’t get free, you spit at him.

“Fuck you.”

It was the most vulgar he’d ever heard you, his wrath mixing with desire. Warmth seeped into his cheek where your spit had landed, and in a quick kick of his legs, he dropped you to your knees hard.

And wasn’t that a damn sight.

“If that sweet mouth wants to be filthy so bad, why don’t we put it to good use.”

He talked slow, controlled, as he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. Wild eyes traced the arch of your back, the smooth column of your exposed neck.

He wanted to take a bite.

Your eyes were burning into his, an anger he’d never seen before from you shining through. You looked like you hated him, like you’d burn him on the spot.

“Now, sweetheart, try not to use your teeth.”

He clicked open his belt buckle, positioning himself just enough to free his hardened length. He’d dreamt of this moment, had pleasured himself to the thought of you more than he could count. The realization that it was coming to fruition had him so hard it fucking hurt. He took pride at the hunger in your gaze, your mouth still twisted in a scowl.

“Don’t act all innocent now.”

Almost as if it were a challenge, spurred on by your temper, your hot mouth took his entire length in one quick movement and-

Holy fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were impossibly warm, your tongue sliding the length of his cock while your eyes, the ones he’d spent so long admiring, stared into his own. You held his gaze, refused to look away as you hollowed your cheeks, daring him to keep going.

He didn’t disappoint, wrapping his hand around your hair just like he’d done with his lasso. Sturdy hands forced you to take him to the base of his cock, before pulling back out. He thrusted back in hard, unconcerned with the tears that gathered in your eyes as he slammed into your throat.

You were defiant in the way you took him, forcing a harsher pace than the one he’d set.

This had to have been heaven. Nothing on Earth could possibly feel this fucking good. His thrusts were feral, unrelenting, and you were meeting them with ferocity, your pretty lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock.

“Takin’ me so good,” he groaned, his abdomen spasming. The sound of your gags filled the air, tearing through any restraint he might’ve had.

It’d been a while since he’d felt any sort of pleasure, even longer since it’d been anything more than a quick fuck.

This, though…

This was a whole different beast.

Fuck.

He wiped at the saliva coating his cheek, staring into your eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweetness.

You moaned, and he was sure this had to be a dream.

Reality had never been this nice.

“My filthy girl.”

Another moan, and this one almost dropped him to his knees. Pleasure tingled up his spine, down to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. His body was practically vibrating, begging him for release.

He didn’t want it yet, wanted this moment to last an eternity. His cock was pounding into your mouth, your fingernails digging into his thighs- sweet pain mixed with hot pleasure.

Please, his body sung, begging for a release he desperately fought against.

His pace was brutal, chasing the high he both wanted more than anything, and wished would never come.

It wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Needed all of you.

“You are mine.”

He emphasized on a growl, savoring the taste of you that still lingered on his tongue.

He was desperate for more, for every damn piece of yourself you’d give him. It’d never be enough, not enough time in the universe to get the fill of you he wanted- needed.

He was close now, only holding on by sheer will, and all it took was a tilt of your head and a long, low moan of what he only prayed was his name around his length.

Like a band, his restraint snapped, his hips surging forward as he grunted your name.

Fuck.

Fuck, his body was singing.

Fuck. Curses, unbidden, were falling from his lips. Pleas, praises, worships- fuck it all he couldn’t even tell anymore, blinded by the feel of your mouth.

It was hot, so hot, and you swallowed every drop he gave you, his sensitive cock was twitching, his knees trembling with the effort to stay on his feet.

You kept going though, pulling your lips back just far enough to lick his length clean, your eyes still so full of fire, the same fire racing through his body.

It was so much, too much almost, and yet he gave into the torturous pleasure, desperate for you, for whatever you’d give him.

His hat had fallen off his head when he threw it back, his legs shaking as you finally pulled away- and despite the overstimulation, his body still chased your mouth, not ready to feel the empty, consuming void left in your wake.

A breath.

A moment to consider what he’d done, what he’d said to you. It wasn’t anger in your eyes- not regret, either. He couldn't read it, couldn't grasp what you were feeling.

His heart pounded against his chest, exhausted arms releasing your hair as he slowly, cautiously, raised his fingers to your cheeks. Tears had fallen from how far he’d thrust himself into you. He wiped them away, let them press into the fabric of his gloves, as the air grew thick.

It was a soft moment, a gentle one, and he didn’t want to be the first to pull away.

So you did.

You got your feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your jaw flexing as you looked like you hadn’t just sucked him fucking dry.

He tucked himself back in his pants and secured his belt, waiting for you to speak. It was a tense moment, drawn longer by the way you wet your lips, like you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite form the words.

“Oh, fudge, are you two okay?”

His finger itched with the desire to end the vaultie for interrupting this, for causing you to cast a worried glance in her direction before your damn walls were thrown back up. Whatever you’d been about to say, you definitely wouldn’t now.

“Just peachy,” you smiled, one that screamed inauthenticity as you took a step to face away from Lucy.

“Think I need some air though, I’ll be back in a bit.”

It was a dismissal if he ever heard one, and the vault dweller had the good sense not to try and follow.

“Your hat’s on the ground, there.”

She went to pick it up for him, but he swooped down before she had the chance and deposited it on his head. On a good day he didn’t have the patience for her, but right now he was feeling downright venomous.

“So-“

“Leave it.”

His words were final, tone brokering no argument. That was the only bit of grace he’d give her- one more word and his reply would be a bullet. She understood, could see the tension in his stance and gave him the space he desired.

But it wasn’t space he wanted.

It was you.

It was your voice, so gentle and melodic.

It was your touch, sweet and resolute- full of heat, of passion, of something that resembled life.

Instead, he got the cold, hard ground and a head full of vicious thoughts. Why did you plague his thoughts the way you did? Why did you make him feel so fucking human?

He didn’t want to.

Didn’t want that, any of it.

Not the fucking feelings, not the guilt, not the stupid fucking spark of hope in his cold, dead heart.

Let Cooper Howard die.

But it wasn’t that simple.

All of the anger in the world couldn’t turn his affection for you to hatred. It was a stubborn thing, and a solid one. No amount of pressure could bend it. He’d just learned to live with it- a deficiency he’d carry for the rest of his miserable time on Earth.

He fell to the ground there, not bothering with getting comfortable, almost like it was a punishment. Truth be told, he didn’t have the fight in his veins anymore, didn’t wish to have to struggle to get comfortable.

He was ready to lie down and accept what he earned.

His eyes slipped shut, and though the vault dweller fell into a light sleep easily, he could not. His mind simply wouldn’t stop, kept replaying that look in your eyes.

What did it mean?

Did you hate him?

He wouldn’t blame you, could never fault you for hating the monstrous thing he’d become. He’d bet you’d have fallen in love with him before- Cooper Howard, the gentleman.

That was the kind of thing you deserved, the kind of life he’d dreamt about with you.

He’d love you in those dreams, so unconditionally and flawlessly, with no restraint or regret. He’d praised the ground you walked on, and would cherish every moment he had with you.

Not now.

He couldn’t love that way, not anymore- didn’t want to, didn’t remember how, if he were honest.

There was a quiet, tempered crunch of sand, a boot moving slowly towards him.

He knew those steps though, knew that it was you who approached him. He kept his eyes shut, curious as to what your intent was.

If you killed him, so be it.

“Cooper,” you breathed.

It was a prayer, an admission, and a promise. He didn’t reply, didn’t even crack open an eye, just listened with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man, hoping you would say more.

You didn’t.

A shadow casted from behind his lids as you knelt down, reminiscent of earlier, but of your own volition. This wasn’t with rage, with an animalistic hunger.

This was with compassion, with something that resembled fondness.

A soft exhale left your parted lips, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see the expression you wore. It was kind, open- something he rarely saw anymore.

A weight settled on his chest then, your head pressed snug against the tattered shirt he wore. An arm wrapped around his middle, holding him close to your warmth. The words you spoke in then sounded lyrical, more natural than anything you’d ever said before.

He didn’t know the meaning, wasn’t even sure what language it was- but a heat emanated from the feather he’d tucked into his chest pocket, and he understood that it was you sharing a piece of yourself.

He listened to the beating of his own heart, the slowing of your breaths, as he felt a peace wash over himself that he thought was long gone.

There, in the dim glow of a worn lantern, with the most beautiful soul he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting tucked into his side, Cooper Howard emerged- the man he was- if only for a moment.

Tags: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard insert #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout x reader #fallout reader insert #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul imagine #fallout imagine

175 notes · View notes

fushigurro · 7 months

Text

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗧𝗔 𝗢𝗞𝗞𝗢𝗧𝗦𝗨 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / incest but could be read as stepcest / sort of a non-curse au i guess / mentions of underage masturbation / jealousy / a little bit of codependency / voyeurism / reader goes through a breakup / some hurt/comfort / unprotected piv sex / creampie / 2.6k words

little brother!yuuta who has always held you in the highest regard. you have more or less been the center of his universe for as long as he can remember, because nobody has ever been quite as radiant and captivating as his older sister. where he would hear of the complicated dynamics between other people and their siblings, he could only ever think of positive things to say about his relationship with you. he simply couldn’t relate to those who didn’t adore their siblings, and maybe some would find it a bit odd, but it was of little concern to him.

little brother!yuuta who has been the #1 admirer of your beauty from the very beginning. he would find himself in awe of you at any given time, really, but especially when you happened to get dressed up for whatever reason. you would barely be old enough for your body to properly fill out an outfit, but he’d still look at you with sparkling eyes and a small awestruck gasp.

“wow, nee-chan… you look beautiful! where are you going?” he’d ask, always wishing he could tag along.

you would chuckle at his adoration, your sweet brother always being your greatest supporter. “i’m just going to my friend’s birthday party. i’ll be back in time for bed, i promise!"

little brother!yuuta who is so very used to the ritual you’ve always had at bedtime. your special little goodnight phrase that you say to each other before going to sleep is simply a must each and every day. it feels too wrong not to do it, so even if you’re away from each other at night you always find a way to make it work to the best of your abilities, whether it be a quick few second phone call or a text that would never go unread.

little brother!yuuta who always had a bad habit of crawling into bed with you as a small child. the frequency of it eventually dwindled down, but even when he got into his teens, he still found himself slipping under the covers with you from time to time for some comfort. sometimes it was the only way he could manage to get a few hours of sleep—other times he simply laid there awake, finding comfort in your presence alone. but there were also times when he would lay in his own bed, aching with the need to feel you close but too afraid to get near you lest you possibly become irritated with him for being so needy.

little brother!yuuta who, sometimes, after he became old enough, would find himself waking up feeling hot and sticky with an ache between his legs as you held each other in your sleep. his thoughts would flash back to the dream he had just been having before, and he would panic and scramble to back away from you before you got the chance to wake up and notice his hard, leaking cock or the wet mess he’d made in his pants.

he’d carefully distance himself from you even more and squeeze his eyes shut to try and will away the need, or softly climb out of bed to go finish himself off when he couldn’t take it anymore, or clean up the mess he’d already made in his sleep. yuuta would try so hard not to think of you while jerking his cock, but flashes of your face still crept up into his very conflicted mind.

little brother!yuuta who found that something always struck him whenever you would decide to go on a date with a boy, or when someone had asked you out to a special event at school. he would watch with a smile as you walked out the door or stood taking photos, but there was always a sense of fear that crept up inside. he wanted be happy for you… but were you going to abandon him? would you let someone else hold your hand or sleep in your bed? these were such selfish thoughts and he felt absolutely horrible for having them, but he could never make them fully go away no matter how hard he tried.

little brother!yuuta who, one night not long before you moved away from home, tried to sneak into your room for the first time in a while to fall asleep next to you. but before he could gently open the door, he heard soft sounds coming from behind it, and he realized that you had someone over while everyone was (supposed to be) asleep. he pressed his ear to the door to get a better listen, and then gulped as his heart sank in his chest at the quiet but unmistakable noises. despite the shock and devastation, there was a sensation of heat pooling in his belly, and he lingered a little bit longer than he should have.

little brother!yuuta who goes back to his room and can’t go to sleep without first emptying his balls to the thought of what you must look like while being fucked. and after that night, he’s been fighting with himself ever since.

little brother!yuuta who, years later, does everything he can to not think of you when he’s getting himself off, but he sometimes becomes desperate enough for relief from the frustration that he’ll imagine your beautiful face and body and paint his own stomach with hot cum almost instantly. he’ll lay there with both guilt and satisfaction as the seed pools in his bellybutton and starts drying where it splattered all the way up to his chest, the load so heavy and thick from all the time that had passed since he’d last done this.

little brother!yuuta who holds himself back from masturbating for as long as he can because you inevitably pop into his brain every single time. and pathetically enough, he almost can’t cum unless he thinks of you.

little brother!yuuta who felt disgusted with himself the first time he had sex with a girl because the image of you was lingering in the back of his mind the entire time.

little brother!yuuta who convinced you to let him stay with you sometimes after you moved out and eventually started living with your boyfriend. although he couldn’t sneak himself into your bed like he used to, he would happily sleep on the couch knowing that you weren’t very far away. truthfully, living apart from you had been absolute hell.

little brother!yuuta who would recreate the same scenario from years ago, standing outside your bedroom door and listening closely to what you sounded like when your boyfriend fucked you. although it made his heart ache for reasons he tried not to think about, he couldn’t help but commit every noise to memory while he stood there shamefully, brows furrowed and cock rapidly hardening.

little brother!yuuta who has offered nothing but smiles and encouragement to you all these years even while he ached and suffered on the inside. watching you live your life without him around every day, doting on a lover and giving them the affection that used to be his… it’s almost unbearable. it has impacted him far more than he’s ever been willing to show, but his only option thus far has been to simply grin and bear it, even when it felt like he might crumble to pieces.

little brother!yuuta who is the first one there for you after a fairly nasty breakup with your boyfriend, and who moves in with you to help out with the rent now that your partner is gone. at least, that’s what he tells himself; in reality, he couldn’t be more thrilled to live with you again and to bid your burden of an ex a long-awaited goodbye.

little brother!yuuta who does his best to be the greatest roommate you’ve ever had, willing to do every chore in the universe simply because he’s so elated to be here with you. and his instinct is to latch onto you, to have endless movie nights and spend every waking moment with his big sister, but he holds himself back because he doesn’t want to come off as too much, to push you away after he just managed to get you back. however, after dealing with your breakup, you seem to be more than happy to spend a bit of extra time with him, and this makes his heart feel full.

little brother!yuuta who cheers you up with his now genuine smiles and laughter, not having felt this wonderful in a very long time. it’s almost too good to be true, but he savors every minute of it—every minute spent snuggled up on the couch or goofing off while making dinner together. he never wants it to come to an end.

little brother!yuuta who hears you crying one night and simply can’t resist the urge to softly pad into your bedroom and slip under the covers, wrapping his arms around you from behind and breathing in your familiar scent. you don’t remember him being so big, but you suppose that’s what happens after being apart for so long.

not a word is spoken between you two; yuuta just holds you like his most prized possession and lets you weep in the darkness until the sorrow leaves your body. it subsides quicker than usual because you feel less lonely now with him cradling you like this, and you realize you haven’t felt so comforted since the last time he’d managed to weasel himself into your bed far too long ago. you’d never said it out loud, but he’d comforted you just as much as you did him whenever he would feel the need to seek you out in his younger days.

little brother!yuuta who isn’t expecting you to turn around and face him, to look into his eyes even in the darkness so that you may have some sort of realization. perhaps it’s the lingering residuals of loneliness and heartbreak, but regardless, you feel compelled to wrap your own arms around his waist and nuzzle into his chest for warmth. he’s all grown up but still so soft and sweet as he always has been, giving you more love and adoration than anybody ever has. you feel terribly guilty for having taken it for granted at times.

but now he’s here in your arms again, still giving you everything even when he doesn’t have to.

little brother!yuuta whose breath hitches when he feels your mouth on his collarbone, slowly trailing kisses up to his neck and setting his skin on fire as you go. he’s suddenly convinced that he’s dreaming, yet another one of his sinful fantasies being dredged up from the darkest corners of his mind and playing in his sleep. but he blinks and you’re still there, still pressing soft and somehow chaste kisses against his open throat until he’s struggling to breathe.

little brother!yuuta who freezes in place, tears welling up in his big blue eyes at what he’s about to ask next, the guilt and embarrassment nearly causing him to malfunction.

“nee-chan…?” he finally manages to squeak out, blood rushing to his cock as you breathe against him.

“hmm?” you hum, nuzzling his neck with your nose.

he gulps, hips rolling forward against you just the slightest bit, his control over his body weakening now that you’re so close. “c-can i please…please have you?” his voice trembles and now he’s the one crying, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he stares off into the distance and hopes this isn’t the end of it all.

thankfully, you kiss him and show him that it isn’t.

little brother!yuuta who melts into your lips faster than he can process what’s happening, the taste of your tongue instantaneously sending him into another dimension. your mouth is so sweet and warm against his own that he can’t stop himself from being absolutely blissed out within seconds.

little brother!yuuta who feels as though he’s finally found his purpose in life when he has you underneath him and soaking the tip of his cock as it brushes through your folds. it’s already everything that he’s ever imagined and more, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

little brother!yuuta who practically sighs with relief as he slides into you for the first time, nice and slow. it’s as if the biggest weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he’s finally come home, his heart and mind now able to rest easy after years of torment.

he doesn’t even move once he’s hilted inside you, taking several moments to bury his face in your neck and just feel the way you engulf him in warmth in every single way.

little brother!yuuta who knows he needs to feel as close to you as he possibly can. it’s not enough to simply take care of one another, sharing smiles and laughter and keeping each other company like average siblings; no… he needs much more than that. he wants to consume you like you do him (even if you don’t necessarily mean it). he needs to inhabit every part of you, feel you from the inside, and pour this overwhelming amount of love out in the best way he can possibly think of.

and even that doesn’t feel like quite enough. there’s still something scratching in his skull that tells him to truly make you his, to stake his claim, and he wants you to do the very same.

little brother!yuuta whose once still hips are now restless and begging for motion, who starts out slow but is already drooling over how your cunt squeezes him so perfectly. it isn’t long before he’s practically drilling into you, fucking every emotion out of his poor body and straight into yours, to ultimately make you both ‘one.’ he doesn’t mean to be rough for the sake of it, he just loves you so much that it almost hurts, makes his body ache in ways that only this will alleviate after so many years of holding it all back.

little brother!yuuta whose wet eyes never leave your face and who could cum any second but stops himself from doing so if only to make you see pleasure first. his body pleads for release, but he would rather be left somewhere to rot than give in without first making you see stars, showing you how much he really loves you. and when he finally finds that spot and presses into it over and over again with his desperate, eager pace, you’re squeezing and shaking around him and making him sob into his own orgasm until it eventually starts to spill out of you in earnest.

little brother!yuuta who afterwards still isn’t fully convinced that this is reality, and who would do anything to cling onto this feeling for all of eternity. he’ll endure anything life throws at him, will let you do anything you want to him as long as he’s allowed to indulge in you. his big sister can dig her nails into his flesh, bite and suck his skin until she can taste blood, deny him of every pleasure, if that’s what she truly desires. he hopes you’ll love with the same grace you always have, but even if you don’t, he’ll sit and take whatever you give him with silent pride and gratitude, because you’re his beautiful onee-chan, his guardian angel in a world full of darkness. and he wants absolutely everything from you.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #my writing.#re: yuuta okkotsu

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jazzyoranges · 8 months

Note

Would it be possible if you could do a Tara Carpenter x fem!reader please? Maybe someone flirts with reader and tara gets mad and pulls reader into a room aggressively which hurts the reader, and starts like making out with her, but tara bites the readers lip out of anger and hurts the reader so she starts crying and then tara feels bad and comforts her and telling the reader it wasn’t her fault and that she shouldn’t have taken her anger out on the reader? Idk if that makes sense but if you don’t feel comfortable doing that then you don’t have to! 🫶

Jealousy - drabble

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Words: 0.9k

Warnings: angst(?), Tara is mean but bbg doesn’t mean it

A/n: lowkey inspired by @rollingsins All hers Tara (as in Tara deals with bad jealousy issues). also i changed a little bit of the request, but blink and you’ll probably miss it

Tara is by your side, yet you hear your name being called behind you. Deciding it’s probably nothing, you decide to keep talking to your girlfriend about god knows what. Unfortunately, the voice seems to keep getting closer until-

“Y/N, hey!” You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you whip your head around to see a girl you took english with. Sadie, was it? Tara immediately glares at the girl, but she’s too enthralled with you to notice her stare

“I didn’t think you were coming to this party! You look really good” There’s a hint of something in her voice, but you can’t figure out what it is. You determine she’s probably just being friendly. The two of you engage in small-talk you really don’t want to be in, but it doesn’t hurt being nice

“So, are you free tomorrow? I need help studying” Sadie winks at you, and you suddenly start to feel uncomfortable in her presence

“She’s with me tomorrow, actually” Tara buts into the conversation, sensing your tiny discomfort

“So don’t you fucking try any shit, you got that?” Your girlfriend points a finger in Sadie’s direction, causing her to take a step back. Tara storms off and you can hear Sadie mutter about how she’s a bitch. You shoot a glare at the girl, and try to spot Tara in the sea of drunk people dancing

“Tara, baby, she was just being friendly” You follow behind your angry girlfriend stomping upstairs away from the party

“Oh yeah, like she wasn’t checking you out. Everyone down there probably now thinks they have a chance, but you’re mine.” Tara practically growls, turning around to face you. You take a step back, but Tara just pulls you into a random guest room in the house

You’ve played this game before. Tara gets jealous, she fucks the shit out of you. But this time feels… different. When Tara pushes you against the door, she isn’t as gentle. When she crashes her lips into yours, Tara starts devouring you like she’s never going to see you again. You really start to get concerned when she starts to mutter words under her breath in between rough kisses

“Mine… you’re all fucking mine. Nobody else’s, all mine.” Tara murmurs, almost like a chant. Honestly, you feel a little guilty at how hot and bothered she’s making you feel

“Tara, stop.” This definitely isn’t healthy. Even though you’re a little turned on, you recognize this isn’t a good habit to have

“Shut up, you’re mine.” Your girlfriend hooks her thumbs into the belt loops of your jeans, forcing you to be closer to her

“Tara.”

“Say it. Say you don’t belong to that bitch.” Your final straw is when she bites your lip hard enough to draw blood. Planting your hands on her shoulders, you have to pry your girlfriend off of you. This wasn’t the Tara you knew. This wasn’t the Tara that would hold you during your nightmares. The Tara in front of you was filed by jealousy and anger.

When the brunette takes a good look at you through the darkness of the room, you can see her face contort into something akin to regret and remorse. Stray tears you didn’t know you had dripped down your face, your lip stung with blood, yet somehow you were still looking at Tara like she was the only woman to ever exist

“…Y/N?”

“Yeah, baby?” You sigh, taking your hands off her shoulders

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just-“

“I know you didn’t mean to, baby.”

“Can I touch you?” Nodding your head, Tara wipes off the blood on your lip with her sleeve. Next, she wipes the tears off your face. Tara holds your face in her hands, looking like she just killed a puppy

“Tara?”

“Y-Yeah?” her voice breaks

“I’m not mad at you. We’re not going to break up because of tonight.” Your reassurance was enough to make Tara cry, pulling you into a hug. Her tears wet your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns right now. A slew of apologies ranging from “I love you so much, I’m sorry.” to “I’m so sorry this won’t happen again.” escape her lips and into your neck

You knew Tara had a bad problem with jealousy. You happily supported her during her therapy sessions, and you welcomed your girlfriends progress with open arms. Her anger must’ve been building over the past few weeks, because she was never this bad when it came to jealousy

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” She finally says. “I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you, baby. You don’t deserve that.” Tara’s eyes are red, and her sniffles make your heart break at how small she looks

“It’s okay, Tara. I know you’re trying, baby. How about we go home now?”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you, I promise” You pull Tara out of the room, and make your way to Tara’s car. The rest of the night, you two spend your time in each others arms settled in your girlfriends room

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter scream #scream #scream 6

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

Okay but miscommunication trope is only super yummy when there’s a happy ending. Liiiike reader thinking they’re getting kicked out of their relationship in the fruity four, they’re not wanted anymore, maybe even bring replaced (ie with someone like Chrissy), and so every little sarcastic quip or ignoring is seen by them as the others not loving them anymore 🥺. Until one day it all comes crumbling down and I can’t decide with is more angsty, you breaking down telling the others they don’t love you anymore, or you trying to be brave by announcing you’re leaving and the fours hearts just dropping as they try to scramble to convince you to stay and why?! Why are you leaving!?!?! Please! But of course, happy ending when everything’s properly explained and angel is reassured they could never all fall out of love with them ❤️

oh.......miscommunication trope, you say? >:)

(cws: fruity four, gn!angelface, jealousy, post-s4, PTSD, huge miscommunication trope, domestic arguing, you have a tattoo + kinda shitty parents + bad home life, chrissy's a jealousy target, breakups, jopper appearance, you're childhood friends with jonathan, mentions of grief, an almost car crash, very mild head trauma, crying, angst with a happy ending--stick with me angels!)

Sometimes you wish Chrissy would just disappear. Just--poof--and she'd be gone.

It's awful of you to think, but you can't help it. She's just always around, ever since her breakup with Jason she's been by the house much more frequently. You were happy for her at first, because you liked her up until then, and she's always been nice to you. Plus, your partners saved her life back when all that crazy stuff with the Upside Down happened, an event you weren't privy to until after the fact, when you started dating them.

But she's always on Eddie, always chatting him up, always giggling at his attempts to cheer her up, and now she's attracted the attention of your other partners too. They're good friends, and that's good, but....why can you not shake this feeling that there's something more going on? That the arm touches over his jacket and the inside jokes aren't as friendly and harmless as they want you to think?

It's worse than that, though. The honeymoon phase is clearly over--cause all four of them just brush off your concerns, insisting that you're overreacting or just not addressing them at all. So you haven't been piping up when a joke hurts your feelings, and you've bitten your tongue when one of them has to reschedule something you've planned, and it's gotten to the point that they've wondered why you're so quiet all of a sudden. Why would they care? You think with a sour feeling in the back of your throat, rubbing the tattoo on your arm that Eddie gave you and wondering if that was just practice for someone else. You're not oblivious to the way Chrissy is slowly being invited into gatherings and dinners with everyone.....just like you were in the beginning. And after an especially heated fight with both Eddie and Robin, the worst one you've ever gotten into in your entire relationship, he got so pissed off that he just told you not to come to the dinner they had planned, and they'd take someone who actually wanted to go.

That was a couple days ago, and the air in the house has been strained for nobody else but you. You're equally as hurt by Eddie yelling at you as Robin silently going along with it, even though you slammed your bedroom door in her face when she tried to follow you, and waited until Eddie tugged her along to leave before you allowed yourself to cry. You're sick of the feeling that none of them really care for you, that you've been demoted to a piece of furniture in the house, because they've clearly lost interest. And they don't care when your things start disappearing from the house, when the clothes in your closet start dwindling, leaving behind nothing but the ones they've bought for you--no, they'd rather moon over Chrissy fucking Cunningham, and you've just taken all you think your heart can handle.

"I'm going out!" You call into the house from the front door, without any of their four voices responding. When you sigh, turn, and step out to turn the corner of the house, though, you bump right into one of them.

"Oh! Hey, baby." Steve steps back and readjusts the paper bag full of groceries he's got his arm around, keys halfway tucked into his pocket. "Where you off to?"

"Um....just, uh, gonna go visit my parents." You weren't really expecting him to pry, with how in your head you've been lately. But you're not gonna relent just cause one of the people who promised he'd love you forever, yet somehow can't be fucked enough to find the time to even watch a movie with you, asked you a question that remotely shows an ounce of concern.

"Your parents?" He blinks, shifting again to rest the bag on his hip. "You sure?"

That tone is so irritating. You used to love that almost parental sense of duty, the desire of his to know every detail of every problem so he can solve it. But now, you just feel suffocated, even though you're more distant from all of them now than you've ever been. "What, I'm not allowed to see my family?"

"Hey, that's not what I said! hold on," He moves to put the groceries inside, but you wave him off and start walking past him, your tone clearly frustrated as you encourage him to just forget it. But, in a tizzy, Steve hurriedly sets the bag down on the ground and runs to catch up with you, his hand descending on your arm only to be swatted away--but not for long, when he grabs it again and grips it tighter as he turns you to face him. "Jesus, wait! What's the big fuss? Did I do something?"

"Let me go, Steve." You refuse to look him in the eyes, but you can't break his grip. Why can't he just let it go, so it's less painful? "I don't wanna drag this out."

"Drag what out?" Finally, it dawns on him as his eyes dart from the keys clenched in your hand to the windows of your car parked in the driveway, boxes clearly piled up in the trunk and in the backseat that none of them seemed to notice you moving.

".....So that's it? You're breaking up with us?" Steve says it with disbelief, like he's expecting you to say something or anything different. It's almost a little satisfying when you respond in the way he never could have expected, even though he should've by now. Even though it feels bitter on your tongue as soon as it comes up.

"You know what? Yes. That's exactly it." You finally wrench your arm out of his grip, and each of those words sting as they come out, but you won't cry, you refuse to cry in front of Steve today. "I'm leaving tonight, and I'm never coming back to Hawkins again."

"Why?"

"Ask your new girlfriend."

"Who? Wait--Chrissy?" He shakes his head, and what comes out next is more cruel than you wanted to be--but he just won't get it, it won't happen unless you make them realize why they don't want you anymore.

"Wow, the jock has a brain! Well done, Stevie." He grimaces at once, and god, you wish it would all stuff itself back into your throat.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you being such a-"

"I know you're in love with her, Steve! For fuck's sakes, I'm not as stupid as you think I am!" You shout into the broken silence of the front lawn, wishing from the deepest reaches of your heart that this could all just be a horrible nightmare. Not reality. You don't want to be facing those big, soft eyes of Steve staring back at you in shock and pain, so you just turn your head and hope he doesn't see how much you're shaking.

"I get it, okay?! She's prettier than me, and nicer, and she doesn't have my fucking issues--and you guys clearly like her. It's like I don't even exist when she's around." You move aside to gesture towards your car, keys clutched in your hand so they won't fall or get taken from you, because you know Steve is reckless when he's upset. "None of you even noticed I was packing. Nancy fucking helped me put a box in yesterday."

Just then, both your heads turn at the sound of a car approaching--and just in time, you realize it's Eddie, his van's tires crunching the gravel of the long driveway as he pulls up to a stop beside your car. And lo and behold, sitting in the front seat with a smile on her face is her. Chrissy waves to you through the window, and as if your heart isn't in the process of shattering into shards that dig into your lungs, you raise your hand to acknowledge her back. You turn back to look at Steve one last time. Memorizing his face, because you know you won't ever see him again, as you take a few steps backward and hand him your parting words.

"Don't break her heart, Steve. It sucks."

With that, and with nothing but confliction reflecting back at you on his face, you turn on your heels and make your way around your car, bidding Eddie and Chrissy a stiff goodbye as they get out of the van and you get into your car. You reverse, roll back out of the driveway, and shift gears to start puttering down the road. And as soon as the house is out of your rearview mirror, that's when you feel those tears spilling out that won't stop until well after you pass the Leaving Hawkins sign on the side of the road.

A week into your new start in the city, you haven't gotten any more closure than when you left.

Living with your aunt isn't great, but it's something. The apartment is small, and you still haven't found a new job--you did call the Palace to inform them that you were quitting, though, to which you were greeted with nothing but indifference as you left a message on the answering machine. Figures that nobody in that town would miss me, you think, but you can't dwell on it for too long, because then you'll start thinking of them and it'll have you sobbing into your pillow again. Even worse is that you can't even fully express your pain to your family, your aunt, anybody--because they'll all think you're a freak, and it won't be surprising that your "relationship" ended so badly. You don't even really speak to your parents or your family in the first place, so you can't expect them to show you any sympathy. In fact, if they said anything to you, it would probably be that you should be glad it's over so you can live a normal life.

You don't want normal. You want your Robin talking your ear off about something gross for hours, you want Eddie burping into your ear and laughing, you want Nancy falling asleep on top of you and drooling on your chest, and Steve--you want Steve to come over while you're both on your breaks, talking with his mouth full and stealing bits of your lunch while kissing you in between each bite. You want that love back, you want it so badly it hurts, it hurts your heart every time something reminds you of them.

Maybe that's the worst part. That they don't want that anymore, they want someone that can share those memories with of that terrible tragedy, who knows how they feel and relates to those nightmares that wake them up in a cold sweat, who they can compare scars with and laugh with now that it's all over. They want someone scarred but beautiful, someone perfect, and you can never be that way no matter how hard you try. It explains why you haven't gotten a single phone call, or a letter, or anything since you left, and that treatment extends into your second week in Indy and right into the third. But it doesn't get any less painful, even when you get a job at a convenience store around the corner to busy yourself and help with the rent. Nor when you try going on a date or two, just to spend the whole dinner staring off into space as they talk and wondering what the people you loved are doing right now.

While you're behind the counter at work, your thoughts often drift back to that house by Maple Drive. The path around the back that leads into the woods, where Eddie would take you out for a smoke and to watch the stars for awhile--always with a walkie on hand, just in case, as Steve used to say. The pool that often sits empty, and sometimes you'd look out the window to see Nancy lifting up the cover on it to peek underneath, before breathing a visible sigh of relief and briskly walking away. Sometimes even in the middle of the night, creeping out the sliding glass door in her pajamas. And you remember that bed you often shared with Robin, who gets so clingy when she sleeps....and you wonder if she's sharing it with Chrissy now, if the cheerleader you always thought was such a nice girl is occupying the spot you thought would be yours forever.

Your brow furrows as you stock Camels on the shelf behind the counter, sliding each one into the perfect spot but feeling an itch of irritation when they don't line up. Is Eddie holding her right now? Is he coming up behind her every morning, and nuzzling his nose into her cheek as she stirs milk into her coffee? Is Nancy cuddling her and chatting her up about whatever project she has going on right now? Is Steve picking up her bag, and insisting she let her boyfriend hold the heavy stuff while she sits and looks pretty? They probably are. And they're probably much happier doing it with her, than they ever were with you.

Something thuds on the counter behind you, and you sigh without a sound as the gruff voice at your back asks for a pack while you're at it. Your fist squeezes around the box you've got in hand, and when you turn on your heels to toss it on to the tabletop and reach for the scanner, your eyes widen, and so do the ones on the moustached man that's towering in front of you with a petite woman at his side.

"Hop?"

You breathe out the name, trying to regain yourself as quick as you can--you're pretty used to keeping your tears back now, adjusted to having a straight face so nobody will pry or prod for your feelings. The former sheriff of your hometown that you used to duck out of sight from, laughing and hiding your goods with Eddie right behind you, is standing at your counter with a shocked expression, along with Joyce Byers who seems just as surprised to see you here. And with little else you can think of, you clear your throat and try to crack that tense silence.

"Uh...so, you two on vacation, or someth-"

"Are you fucking with me?"

Hopper cuts you off, hands bracing the edge of the counter as he looks you up and down, the two glass bottles of Coke getting shoved aside by him to fall over and roll across the counter as he reaches across the barrier to grab your arm. Without much struggle, because you have no clue what's going on, you allow the older man to yank your wrist up and turn it over, Joyce hurriedly pushing up your sleeve with her gaze pinned to your skin, like she's desperately searching for something that has nothing to do with your confused questions spilling out on top of each other.

When they've finally uncovered that patch of skin they were looking for, the two of them share a look between themselves, before finally looking back up to acknowledge how baffled and worried you are. It isn't until you scan down to see what they found that the pieces start coming together, the black ink of the tattoo Eddie gave you when you first started dating peeking out at you. It's just a thin, mid-sized black circle on your inner forearm, with five points reaching outward like a sun. But the detail of it has always enchanted you, Eddie's diligent stare as he inked it into your skin burned into your mind. You've considered getting it covered since then, but....you can't bring yourself to do it yet.

"I'll call it in," Hopper says cryptically, stepping back and turning away to bring out the walkie from his belt and start mumbling into it. In the meanwhile, you're left with his partner, and the lady you've practically grown up with since she babysat you a long time ago. You often forget that time, when you and Jonathan would run around her backyard with sticks and rocks to try and build your own castle, while his baby brother watched from the stairs and giggled at your antics. You were so young, and so carefree, it seemed....but it was a happy time, one of few before you met those four.

"Honey, you're alright?" Joyce's voice quivers, anxious for the answer, but you nod as soon as her question registers because you hate to see her like this.

"Ye...Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She circles round the counter, coming right in for a hug that you return without question. The squeeze is tight, like a mother's embrace upon returning home from a long time away, and you instantly feel a pinch of guilt for neglecting to include her in your plan to leave Hawkins. Now that you think about it, you really didn't tell anyone, except....

"-Kid, relax, we're coming there. No, do not get in your car, sit your ass down so you're there when we get back! Jesus," Hop gets more animated as he talks over the channel, and your hug splits as your head swivels towards the sound of a familiar voice through the static. Steve.

"Are they there? Let me talk to them! Please, Hopper, let me hear their voice-"

It's so frantic, desperate. The first time you've heard one of their voices in what feels like your whole life, and you have to struggle not to cave, bringing a shaky hand up over your mouth as you whisper a "What's going on?" to Joyce. And with your ears perked up, you can distinguish the background noise in the transmission--there are three other distinct voices, talking just as fearfully amongst themselves as they also try to get through to Hop. Nancy, Eddie, and Robin, each with as much indignation as Steve, who must be holding the other walkie.

"We're coming down right now, kid. Just try to calm down in the meantime." With that, Hopper shuts the antenna and gestures for you to follow him, the sweet woman at your side holding your arm as you obey him, like she's afraid you'll vanish if she lets go. You're led out of the light of the fluorescent bulbs overhead to Hop's truck parked by the curb--you at least have the sense to fumble with your keys and lock the front door before you leave--you let him open the door and sit yourself in the backseat, and shakily buckle yourself in as they get in front with promises to explain everything. Still struck dumb with shock to the point that it hasn't really registered that you just left work in the middle of your shift.

But you get an idea of what's happening when you turn your head, and catch a glimpse of a scattered stack of papers on the seat beside you out of your peripheral. Tentatively, as Hop starts up the ignition, your fingers brush over one of the nearest pages--and when you lift it up to survey it closer, the two of them notice you and share another sobering look between them. What's staring back at you is undeniably, unmistakably, a missing person's ad. And the picture is one you recognize immediately, because it's yours. Your photo, details of your last sighting, a description of your tattoo, a list of things for people to look out for....

"You really worried everyone back home, kid."

Suddenly, a bitterness rises up inside you, and the paper crumples slightly as you realize what's really happening. "I'm fine. I just...decided to get out of Hawkins."

"Yeah, well, maybe tell your roommates that, first."

"Hop-"

"They didn't care! I told Steve anyways, so what's the big fucking deal?" Even though Joyce flinches at you raising your voice, you can't be quiet right now. Anger is something you've been almost too numb to endure these last few weeks, but now you could just put your fist straight through Hopper's window--they put up such a fuss for what? To drag you back to that shitty inbred town in the sticks, just to make sure they didn't want you in the first place? It's bullshit.

"They sure as shit care!" Hop shouts right back, casting his signature scowl over his shoulder as he drives through semi-empty streets. It's so late, and so dark, it's unlikely there'll even be many pedestrians. "Do you realize how many times Nancy Wheeler has shown up on my doorstep, begging me to go on another search and rescue for you?! They're worried sick!"

"Why?"

There's silence for awhile, very tense silence, before you repeat your question that says much more than just that one word.

"....Because they thought you were gone. They thought you were there."

There. That's what he means--the other world, the Upside Down. The place you've never seen, only heard horror stories about and snatches of descriptions of when you comforted one of them during a night terror. The missing people, the murders, the experiments....they're all so hard to believe, but then again, you can't deny Will's remarkable return from the dead or Barbara Holland's coverup death, both of which you've been close enough to to know that there's no way they're just elaborate lies.

So they were worried you had died. That your disappearance wasn't of your own volition. They're going to be in for an unfortunate surprise, but by the tightly shut locks on Hopper's truck doors, you know there's no getting out of this until he brings you right back to drop you in their laps.

"We came here to look for you. Your mom finally told us you had an aunt in the city." Joyce offers you another piece to the puzzle, but your mind is still stuck on the fact that your ex-partners seemed so desperate over the walkie. They....they wouldn't want you to die, but that doesn't mean they want you. Figures that your parents would make it more difficult for two of the only people that even remotely have any concern for you too, they're probably profiting off all that glorious attention of having a missing child.

"I have a life here, now. I don't want to go back." Lies. You know it's all lies.

"Listen, kid, whatever happened with your friends, I promise it's not worth throwing in the towel. You've gotta see things through." Clearly it's not worth an argument, you'd rather save your energy at this point. You're gonna need plenty to face that hard conversation you know is coming, when you're gonna have to confirm to them directly that you're moving on. No more running away, or hiding from the problem. You have to face it.

"You don't know anything about me, or them."

The already long drive drags on even longer in the silence that follows, and you make a mental note to call your aunt when they get you back to Hawkins, so she doesn't freak out when she comes home to an empty apartment. You can imagine your manager's gonna call and cuss you out before firing you for leaving the store unattended, too, and you groan and let your head hit the seat behind you. Now you're gonna have to find another job, gonna have to explain to your aunt what you did....or maybe she won't even notice your absence, not until someone makes a fuss about it.

Your mind is left racing with so many thoughts and worries that the scenery passes by without note, the moon barely shining any light on the landscape, like it's all one huge plain with little dots for buildings and trees. Like one big hellscape, but it's numb and frozen over with nothing left but a mocking echo of the world that's no longer here. You don't even really recognize your surroundings until a couple hours have passed, and the Welcome To Hawkins sign zips by and has you sitting up in your seat. Just as you pass it, though, you think you see the glimmer of another set of headlights, a rarity on these quiet streets--and then your whole world shifts violently.

"Shit!" Hop curses as he swerves suddenly, and Joyce shrieks as you all nearly careen off the road and into the ditch, your head cracking against the window and bouncing off for you to clutch at it in pain. A groan is all you can get out when he calls back to you, the dizzy feeling making you a little sick, but as you lift your head and the truck rolls to a stop, you spot the culprit of that downright suicidal speed driving that nearly caused a head-on collision.

Your heart is pierced with a deep chill immediately. You'd recognize that van anywhere, and that curly mane of hair as the driver stumbles out his door even moreso. He's not hurt, just dazed--and for the moment, your brain doesn't immediately go to the question of why you should even care. As he stands there in the road, in the dark, Eddie's form is lit up by the headlights still shining without a flicker, but he doesn't flinch even when it must be glaring directly into his eyes, just holds a hand up to block it out. And when they meet yours as you lean over the console to see him, he doesn't wait a second, hurrying around the passenger's side of the truck to fumble for the handle of your door. With a click, and the light above you switching on as a beeping starts to emit from the vehicle, Eddie's suddenly cramming himself into the backseat with you--and there's tears already wetting his cheeks as he grabs you in a hug, gasping in a shaky lungful of breath like he's shocked he's really touching you. Crying and mumbling into your hair, Eddie buckles when you squeeze him back, falling victim to that desire in the deepest part of your soul that just wanted to hold him again.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it baby, I didn't--everything I said, I swear, I was being such a fucking moron-" He starts babbling from nowhere, and his voice itself is a comfort, having not heard it next to your ear for so long that it aches now.

"Eddie-"

"You're mine, okay?! You're my everything!" He cries, burying his face even deeper into your neck and inhaling whatever scent he can get. You're stunned into staying limp, letting his hands grab and squeeze at you wherever they land--his curly hair tickles your cheek and sticks to it, and that sensation alone drags tears up to the surface, only allowing them to spill when you hear him whispering those croaked pleas of "I love you, I love you, I love you" until you're crying right along with him. It's been so long since you heard it, you'd started believing it was never really true.

It takes minutes that feel like hours for you to both calm down enough to look at each other, your face cradled in Eddie's rough hands as he sniffles and murmurs a "You're so beautiful" so innocently sincere, that it instantly makes you wish you had never left. He smiles, and the world that seems so dark grows a little brighter around you. You're not even privy to the looks Joyce and Hopper are giving each other in the front seat, clearly a little surprised at the passion you two share that nobody else has ever seen. But they know. And when Eddie starts pulling you out of your seat with the promise to take you back, Hop only reminds him to drive safely before he allows you two to shut the truck's door and circle round the vehicle with Eddie's arm clinging to your waist. The air hits you, cool and dry, just like it always is in Hawkins. And when he opens your door for you and waits for you to clamber in, before getting in on the other side and fumbling contently with his keys, you're not sure you really know what to expect. He briefly elaborates that he'd gotten worried, and that he's just glad he spotted Hop's truck before he'd sped all the way out of Hawkins and missed you--but it doesn't last, because soon he's grabbing your thigh and sighing out a breath of relief.

"We'll talk about everything when we get home. For now, I just want to hold you." Eddie offers his hand to you, giving it a grateful squeeze when you slip yours into it and interlace your fingers together.

They'll all hate me for real, this time.

That's exactly how the drive goes, Eddie's shoulders relaxed even as he steers with one hand, and navigates while stealing glances over at you with relief written all over his face, and brings your hands up to kiss your knuckles every so often. But he's just one. The other three....your heart sinks as you run over that last conversation you had with Steve, the way you'd ignored Robin completely, and how you pretended everything was absolutely fine with Nancy up until the moment you left. And it somehow dawns on you only then--they thought you were gone, that you had been taken to the Upside Down, and your heart sinks as you watch the trees pass by in clusters while that dread creeps closer down the road that's so familiar.

Not even the comforting warmth of Eddie's hand could drive that thought out of your mind, even less so when he turns and you hit that patch of gravel that leads up the driveway. He'll stop soon, and you'll be facing the music....and when Eddie shifts into park, you sort of float from your seat to the walkway where you threw your feelings back into Steve's face, and up towards the front door that Eddie opens for you before you cross the threshold into the house. It does feel like home, and you don't want to lose it right on the welcome mat, so you blink away any tears that threaten to spill before you quietly follow him into the living room.

Three heads turn to look your way, too inundated in conversation around the coffee table to hear the door opening, but that stops the second their eyes land on you. Steve and Robin are the ones sitting closest to where you stand, but Nancy's the one that makes her way to you first, her lower lip already quivering enough to break into a sob as she crosses the patch of carpet to throw her arms around you. She's strong enough to grip you tight enough to hurt, but too weak to keep herself on her feet, and you end up sinking to the floor with her as your name floods out of her lungs on repeat, getting louder and louder and louder until she's wailing. You could swear the walls rattle with the volume she cries at, completely coming apart in your arms like you've never seen her do before.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She shouts, yet her voice is like a child's, wobbling and whiny and so miserably pitiful that it pains you even to listen to it, especially when she's clutching you so close to her body--so afraid that you won't be there when she pulls away, so she refuses to. You don't have any right to cry when she's so distraught, but with your head over her shoulder, the other two watch your lips curve downwards and your eyes screw shut into a flood of tears that won't stop easily.

"I'm sorry, Nancy. I'm okay." You whimper, burying your face into her curls until your lips brush her jawline, and she shudders into each gentle, praiseworthy kiss that you press there. Up until her sobs subside, and she breaths a sigh of relief that you can feel from her chest against yours, each one sinking and rising into each other as you breathe along with her. "I thought you didn't want me anymore."

She shakes her head, and finally pulls herself back to look at you, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks when she gets a good look at you. Nancy touches your face, thumbs away your own tears--and you know she's not just looking at you, but the girl she lost so long ago, whose smile she sees in yours on those days she misses her the most dearly. "I never wanted you more when I thought you weren't coming back," She whispers back. "How could I not want you? I love you."

The kiss she lays upon your lips is breathtaking, shaking and sweet and just....everything. Everything you missed and craved like air and water and life.

You're already halfway into her embrace when she laughs out that half-hearted joke, walking back with you a couple steps when you throw yourself into it. And she squeezes you so tight, so hard, the kisses a flurry of needy, fluttering touches all over your face until she somehow finds your lips--and when she does, she makes that last one a kiss you won't shake off for days, the feeling tingling your lips even when she pulls away. Still rubbing that spot on your back that she knows is sensitive, Robin grips you in an even harder hug that nearly cracks your spine, and whispers into your ear: "I'm so happy you're here with me." before she kisses you one last time, last one, she swears, fingers crossed behind your back. But then, she takes notice to the man standing just a foot away--and she lets you go to turn you around, her fingertips grazing your arms as you finally face him.

"Yeah, she, uh....she cried, like, every night," Even as Robin says it and breaks the quiet, she herself is rubbing tears from her cheeks, trying to keep that smile going as you stand and Nancy loosens her hold. She moves aside for Eddie to lay his hands on her shoulders from behind, and keep her steady on her feet. "So did Steve. I told you he cries when we watch Princess Bride!"

"I-I....I didn't mean it, Steve. I never...I've never thought you were dumb." Your voice comes out as a whimper, fingers fiddling with each other as you endure that big, brown, wide-eyed stare.

"I know." He breathes, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wants to move, he's antsy, but he won't take another step. "I know, baby."

"Can I hug you?" Steve just nods, but his lip quivers and his features gain that pathetic, sad puppy look, because he was hoping and praying you would say those very words. Your heart soars as he meets your step forward and flings his strong arms tight around your body, crushing you with his huge stature but never loosening up. He instantly brings his hand up to cradle your head against his chest, kissing the crown of it with so much firmness that you know he's reaffirming you're really standing in front of him again.

"I shouldn't have let you leave. I should've slashed your damn tires." He chuckles along with you at the lighthearted crack at breaking the tension, until he chokes up again into a sob. "Nobody could ever replace you. And I swear, I'll never break your heart again."

Steve holds you for a long time, squeezing you and kissing you and brushing strands of hair from your eyes to just look at you, surveying the face of the love he feared he'd never get to cherish again. It's a long time coming, and when he's done, there are three other warm bodies in the room that need attention from the sweet thing they've been killing themselves over these last few weeks.

From there, they catch you up with what had happened in your absence. Steve had walked off to clear his head after you left, and hadn't returned until late in the day--burst through the front door during an unusually quiet dinner and sent them all into a panic, when he realized you really had left and you weren't coming back. The four of them had jumped into action to split up and look for you, Nancy contacted your parents and other family while Steve and Robin tried to find some hint of your whereabouts in the house, cracking open your drawers and notes and realizing how much of your stuff was missing. Meanwhile, Eddie had driven in circles round Hawkins and the outer city limits, trying to find any trace of your car in the dark with the help of passing streetlights.

When those attempts had failed after stretching out into the next day to mid-afternoon, and with your very unhelpful parents insisting they had no idea where you could've gone, that's when your partners had started printing out missing person's flyers and put in an official report with the sheriff's office. And, seemingly having forgotten that you were really the only one who ever checked the voicemail at work, your message tendering your resignation had been errantly erased by your manager--worrying them even further when they questioned him, because if you were really planning on moving away like you said, how could you not tell your employer? It wasn't like you. Their fears had only gotten stronger from there.

The worst had yet to come, though. Because when your car had been found on the side of the road way out in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from Hawkins and completely destroyed, the four of them had reached the point of no return. The plates had been torn off, but it was your exact make and model of car, and what were they supposed to believe? That it was just coincidence? That's what Hopper had tried to reassure them with, tried to insist that plenty of cars get found gutted out in the bush, but they couldn't be convinced that it was just some freak happenstance and delude themselves to think that you were fine and dandy somewhere else. The same thing had happened to Max's stepbrother, and they all knew how that had ended.

So started the search parties, the nights spent staying up and studying maps by lamplight, the microwave meals in place of home cooking and sleeping in shifts by the phone, waiting and hoping for some kind of clue to your whereabouts to appear. Finding you had become more important than eating, proper sleep, showering, or attention paid to anything aside from looking towards the horizon to see if you would magically walk back into their lives.

And all that time, you had believed nothing but that they couldn't care less where you were, or what you were doing. When in reality, they could think of nothing but you. That was what had led Eddie to nearly crash into you as you re-entered Hawkins, having been pacing the living room for those long hours after Hop's call until he just couldn't take it anymore--despite the other three trying to stop him, he had dashed out to his van and peeled out of the driveway like a lunatic, just for the slightest chance that he might be there when you needed help. It was so stupid, so reckless, and you'll remember that moment he came rushing around the side of the truck to get to you forever.

Despite them reassuring you about Chrissy, too, when the tears have dried--promising you she's nothing but a friend, and they would have no problems limiting her interaction with all of you from now on--you wave it away, smiling off your stupidity and letting them know that it's fine. You were just being dumb, acting crazy, but you're fine now. And Eddie's eyes narrow at that.

"You're not crazy." He murmurs absentmindedly, and says nothing more until he can slip away from your reunion, and reach the phone in the kitchen. While you're busy dealing with your other partner's crippling absence of affection, he taps his blunt nails into each button, numbly dialing the number he's memorized until the ringing starts and stops.

"Hey, Chris. Angel's back home."

"Oh, that's great! Oh...Eddie, I'm so happy for you. You must be relieved-"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, no hard feelings, but....you're my friend, so I'm just gonna be straight. Don't come by the house anymore."

"I--what? Really? I....Eddie, I'm sorry, if I did something to upset you-"

"No, no, nothing you did. Well, not really. But I know how you feel, Chris, and I can't really ignore it anymore." He swallows deeply, and sucks on his teeth as he tries to think of some better way to say it. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel the same. I never have, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like that might change."

"......So that's it?"

"That's it. We can still be friends, but we need space for awhile first, and I'm not gonna ignore you flirting with me anymore. I'm in love and it's not gonna change. Sorry."

"Can we at least talk about it, Eddie? Please? I'd rather talk this out in person."

"No. Bye, Chrissy."

He thuds the phone back on the receiver just a little too hard, and brings his hand up to rub at his neck and try and get the ache out. That didn't feel good, having to confront one of his very few friends with a truth he just wanted to ignore--but the sick feeling he has now can't even compare to how he felt when you were away, and it's an easy decision to make in that regard. He'd take you over her any day. It's a bit of a guilty feeling, but he knows it's the truth even if it hurts Chrissy's feelings, and he's happy even so.

"....Yeah, I missed you real bad, sweetheart. Don't you ever think I wouldn't....or else you are crazy."

"Eddie?" You call out from the living room, and following that sweet voice to its source, he feels himself light up at the sight of you settled back into the couch. Legs tucked up in Robin's lap, halfway into Steve and Nancy's, looking so comfortable and cute as you look up at him. You're where you belong. He's so distracted by the glee and relief of having you home, he didn't even realize how quiet it had been between you all until he came right back from his task. You say nothing more, just hold your arms out to him--and when he gets close enough, you capture him with those pretty eyes of yours, and melt away any ill feeling as you pull him into your chest.

#fruity four #fruity four x reader #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley x reader #jim hopper #joyce byers #st 4 #stranger things #eddie's angelface #ellie writes #anons

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heartfullofleeches · 3 months

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Ok now I need to know how your cupid Yan amyas would react to angel darling. I mean with how you've said he'll literally act cute in order to fool people, would he also be submissive for angel darling or be equally as dominant as angel reader is.

Amyas would fold so fuckin fast for Angel Darling. Angel sees right through his little tricks and paired with their own deceptive ways, Amyas really has nothing left to do but plead for their affection and pray they'll take some pity on him since while some of it's an act - he's still cute and adorable, right? Maybe Angel is either Amyas' superior or a younger Cupid he's tasked with watching over. They'd follow him around, teasing him about all the naughty things humans they help find their true love get up to. Mortals have so much fun together exploring each other's bodies. Maybe Amyas' and them should do the same?... Darling's only joking though... Amyas is so easy to toy with afterall....

"Oh! Amyas, look! Those humans are kissing! That one has their hand under the other one's shirt.... Maybe we should.... Hah! Who am I kidding! My sweet Amyas' would never want to do something against God's will... Would he?"

"Y-yeah.... Never..... It.... It probably wouldn't hurt if we tried it once... twice to see how we really feel, maybe?"

Amyas would straight up butcher any human Darling shows themselves off to. Amyas knows they like to play around with people's emotions, but nobody should get to see their body besides him!... If they ever want to show it to him. Angel Darling sees Amyas' jealousy as a fun game - they're mostly unaware or obvious to the carnage he leaves behind everytime they pick a new human to play with. If only they knew what their sweet Amyas was capable of when he's really upset.

#Amyas my oc #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #suggestive #yandere cupid

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zhongrin · 10 months

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| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon | teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #universe abound

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yuna542 · 11 months

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[1]

>Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, jealousy, ANGST, blood, sexual assault, violence, mentions of sex, alcohol

Word Count: 9.1k

Note: Here we go. Wanted to write an Oneshot. It escalated and it became a Story with 4 Parts. Hope you like it and you are also obsessed over the show! It’s amazing!

Summary: As Gunwoos little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can’t stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean. It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word. "I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled.

Chapter 1:

The Idiot

„Gunwoo! Come on! Hurry up!", you shouted through your apartment, leaning on the doorframe, ready to leave.

Now your brother had already talked you into coming to a boxing match that wasn't his own, and now he was making you wait. You heard the rumble in his room and he was probably gathering his things in a panic so that you wouldn't change your mind at the last minute.

Beside the hustle you heard his cell phone ringing behind the door and he answered in a rush:

"Yeah... Yes we're on our way... See you soon."

Then he finally opened the door and ran into the kitchen to plant a kiss on your mom's cheek.

"We're off, Mom."

The woman with the same kind eyes as you and your brother turned from the stove and raised her finger.

"Just watch your little sister for me!"

You sighed loudly as your brother gave you a doubtful look and eyed you. You raised your eyebrows, as you would probably always be the little girl to your mother.

"I'm sure she can do that very well on her own," he said with a gentle smile and you snorted in amusement. But you were grateful that he didn't put you down.

Even though you were way shorter and narrower than your brother, most people had more respect for you. Or they were quickly intimidated. Unlike your reserved, polite brother, you stood out because of your confidence and cheeky manner.

If you didn't have the same eyes and handsome face, nobody would have guessed that the quiet muscleman and the little hothead were siblings.

"Come on now! Otherwise we'll be late!"

Gunwoo shoved his cell phone into his pocket and you waved goodbye to your mother as you disappeared through the door. As you walked down the stairwell, you could see your brother smiling conspiratorially.

"I thought you weren't interested in the boxing match."

"I am interested in your boxing matches. You're making me watch your friend's, aren't you?" you retorted, skipping the last two flights of stairs as you had always done.

Originally, years ago Gunwoo had told you that there was a monster lurking under the last staircase that would grab your ankles and pull you down into the basement if you weren't careful. When you were six you just stuck your tongue out at your brother who was four years older than you and called him a fool, but even today you skipped over them out of habit.

As soon as you stepped out into the fresh air, you took a deep breath. It was a summery day and the birds were chirping. Sitting in a stuffy hall all day, enveloped in the smell of sweat and blood had not been your plan.

"I just want you to finally meet Woojin! He's my best friend and a great boxer."

"Mhh," you replied, remembering the day a few months ago when Gunwoo had come home late from a fight and told you that he had been out to dinner with his opponent all evening.

You used to be his best friend. You shared everything, were always together and you even helped him train for his dream. But since this Woojin showed up, your brother only hung out with him and therefore you had little interest in getting to know him. It would be an understatement to say that you already disliked him without even knowing him.

"This is going to be great. Woojin has been training for today for a long time. I'm sure he'll rock it. And I'm sure you guys will get along great. You guys are actually very similar."

"Oh yeah?" you asked suspiciously, and Gunwoo just smiled knowingly.

"Watch it! Idiot," you hissed as you picked yourself up off the ground and rubbed your aching neck. The idiot who had just knocked you over was staring at you with wide eyes, completely frozen.

He had run around the corner unannounced and hit you full on. Not only was he quite a bit taller than you, but he was also broadly built and his chest, against which you had crashed, felt exactly like a wall.

Slowly he seemed to come back to reality and ran a hand through his curly mane, allowing you to see his earrings.

"Man shit! I'm really sorry about that. I didn't see you..."

"What you don't say..."

The amazed man held out his hand to help you stand up, but you ignored it. Irritated, you stood up on your own and patted your skirt while the curly-head still held out his hand.

"I was in a hurry and I just overlooked you. You're so small and light... Shit you really flew really far", he said almost enthusiastically and you scrunched your nose indignantly.

"Well, open your eyes next time, douche bag!" you snapped at him and he stared at you in surprise. He hadn't expected such a sharp tongue from such a pretty girl.

Then, fortunately, you spotted your brother at the other end of the hall, looking out for you with two bottles of Coke in his hands.

The one with the curls was now eyeing you more closely, and he was speechless as soon as you looked at him out of those shimmering eyes.

"Are you watching the boxing match?" he asked, putting on a confident smile.

"No... I just hang out here a lot. It's all full of testosterone-fueled machos and the air is so nice and stale around here."

Now there was silence again and you could clearly see in his face how he was weighing whether it was sarcasm or the truth.

"Really?" asked the rascal now and you just shook your head with a snort.

"You're really not very smart, are you?"

Maybe you weren't particularly nice, but he was getting on your nerves big time, with his handsome face that was sure to drive any other girl out of her mind.

He leaned down toward you with his hands in his pockets and grinned mischievously.

"You're quite bitchy, dollface."

"Fuck you!" you hissed at his provocation and stormed past him.

"I knew it was a mistake to come here," you muttered as you passed, not giving the macho another glance.

Instead, you disappeared among the people and joined your brother, who had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.

"Where have you been?" he asked, handing you the Coke he'd gotten you. You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and together you stood at the entrance for the bleachers.

"Some idiot knocked me over."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

You nodded with raised eyebrows and leaned against his muscular shoulder.

"Yes ‚Oh'... I‘m fine.“

You hadn't been a fan of the idea of coming along to a boxing match from the beginning, but you had been to every one of Gunwoos fights and he had begged you to come along to his friend's fight until you had said yes.

Well, he had also bribed you with pizza and sushi, but in the end you said yes anyway. He was a boxer himself, so you already knew a lot about the sport. Most guys who boxed at your age were pumped-up, arrogant machos who had nothing but their sport on their minds. That's exactly what the idiot had just proven to you one more time.

"Trust me this is going to be really good today!"

"Let's see. If I don't get squished first."

The first rounds were indeed exciting, and you had to admit that you were soon eagerly following the fight and cheering along. But when the next fighters were announced, you froze in your seat.

The next up-and-coming boxer was announced as Hong Woojin, and Gunwoo applauded beside you as he entered the ring. As soon as the realization hit you, you gasped out loud.

This couldn't be true. As soon as you recognized the curly-haired man, you laughed in disbelief.

"That's him! That's my friend Woojin. He's unbeatable in his class!" your brother began to tell you excitedly, and you could only watch the muscular young man prance across the ring, provoking his opponent even before the fight began.

"That's the guy who knocked me down!" you said then and the start of the fight sounded simultaneously with the incredulous „What?", of your brother.

You had to bite your tongue as you watched the fight. Sweat glistened all over his toned body and with every punch, every tense, his defined muscles looked even more delicious. Gunwoo had been right. He was damn good at boxing and after an exciting exchange of punches, he won with ease.

His movements were fast and precise. Like a bee that stung when you didn't expect it.

Together you waited for him outside the locker room and when he came through the door and discovered your brother, his eyes shone with pure joy.

They fell into each other's arms, laughing, and Gunwoo patted him congratulatory on the shoulders.

It was almost cute how they jumped around clutching each other tightly and were happy like dogs who were allowed to play together in the park.

When they were done with their greeting, you cleared your throat loudly so they finally paid attention to you.

"Oh. Yeah. That's my sister, by the way. Y/N. This is Woojin," Gunwoo eagerly introduced you. Woojin stared at you wide-eyed as he recognized you, and you just pressed your lips together into a line.

"Hey."

You raised your hand and waved shortly at him.

"It's you?" he asked, perplexed, and you rolled your eyes at his disgusted expression.

"Believe me, I imagined it differently too," you said, walking ahead.

Over the next few weeks, you got to know each other better and, more importantly, you hated each other. Woojin was annoying and a pain in the ass. When you went out to eat together, you argued most of the time until Gunwoo intervened.

He teased you incessantly and enjoyed it when you glared at him angrily. It was a gift of his that within no time he knew exactly how to make you mad.

Nevertheless, you often went out together and did things as a trio, because despite your quarrels, you had one essential thing in common. Your love for Gunwoo. You had to admit that Woojin was a great friend to him and they got the best out of each other.

As much as your brother wanted you two to get along, that was probably never going to happen.

It was a few weeks later and you came up to the roof to check on the boys and let them know that dinner was almost ready.

They were working out again.

At the sight of Woojins muscle-bound torso, you swallowed hard. They lifted weights and spurred each other on until they spotted you.

Woojins gaze traveled up and down your body, lingering for quite a while on your cleavage, set off by the new dress you had just put on.

"Hey your sister is here!" he said and your brother put the weight down to look at you.

You walked over to them, trying to ignore Woojins intense stares. Maybe you should have changed your clothes. He always made fun of you, when you were wearing something more revealing so he could unsettle you. It was only a matter of time till he would make fun of you.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready."

Gunwoo nodded and grabbed one of the towels hanging over the back of the chair next to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest.

Inconspicuously, you kept glancing at Woojin as he took the water bottle, his muscles pumped and tense from the workout and his hair stuck to his forehead.

It was outrageous how good he looked.

He pointed to the other towel.

"Dollface be so kind and give me that!" he said with a grin. He had given you that nickname at the very beginning and you didn't know exactly why, but you got heart palpitations every time he called you that.

Annoyed, you took the towel and threw it harder than necessary into his face.

"You're welcome," you purred provocatively, crossing your arms.

"Is that dress new?" asked Geunwoo, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" you asked, looking down at yourself. It was a burgundy dress that was tight and came down to your thighs.

"Yes it does, you look good. It's just a little short, isn't it?" he said, protective brother coming through once again.

Woojin ran the towel over his abs and came closer until he was standing in front of you, eyeing you closely.

"I think it's cute. How did you know red was my favorite color?" he teased and you just rolled your eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up Woojin. Even if you were the last person on this earth, I wouldn't let you touch me."

"Ouch and I thought you were wearing those sexy outfits just for me."

Playfully shocked, he grabbed his chest and you wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face.

"You should go take a shower... You stink," you shot back and turned around to disappear back into the house. That was a lie. In fact, he always smelled so good that you automatically wanted to move closer when he sat next to you. Even when he was sweating, he smelled seductively tart and masculine, which didn't help you loathe him.

"Is she on her period or why is she so sensitive?" he asked extra loudly so you could still hear.

In response, you just raised your middle finger and slammed the door behind you.

Another time, you wanted to watch a movie, but the argument over the remote control got so out of hand that Gunwoo had to pull you apart by force.

Woojin ended up with big scratches across his chest and you were missing a tuft of hair.

Sighing, Gunwoo had come between you and you sulked at each other for a week until your brother persuaded Woojin to apologize to you.

Secretly, you were grateful that the argument was finally over, so you invited them both to the cinema.

When you got the tickets and Woojin saw that it was the movie he'd been talking about for weeks, he'd just looked at you completely dumbfounded.

"I thought you hated horror movies, I have the taste of a preschooler and this was just another cheap copy..." he had whispered to you in the movie theatre and quoted your exact words from a few days ago.

You had just shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

Then the curtain went up and he had no chance to question you further.

Actually, you still hated horror movies and you wouldn't like this one either. But this was your way of apologizing without losing your pride.

When Woojin held out his bucket of popcorn to you without comment, you smiled in the darkness and took a handful.

That's how it continued to go. You didn't become best friends, yet you were constantly seen together. It had also become normal to go not only to Gunwoo's fights, but also to Woojin's. Especially when Gunwoo didn't have time because he had to help mom at the café, you would go to the fights alone.

When Woojin's eyes wandered through the crowd and he met yours, the corners of his mouth would automatically twitch upwards, as if he knew you would be there.

Even if it was just to laugh at him after a defeat or to poke him in the side on the way home when he got painful bruises. There was absolutely no middle ground with you both, constantly at each other throats, ready to pounce.

Chapter 2

The Party

It was a Saturday night when you were getting ready for a party. Half the town was invited and it was going to be a big event.

You checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled your hair into place. You had half of it up and the rest fell in shimmering waves over your shoulders.

The dress was perhaps a bit daring with the emphasised cleavage and it was tight around your waist.

It artfully brought out your every curve and with the high boots and red lipstick, the black minidress looked much more expensive than it had been.

Glancing at your phone, you ran out of the bathroom and bounced right into something big and hard. Cursing, you staggered back, but two strong hands were already at your waist holding you down.

"I hate it when you do that..." you grumbled, looking up at Woojin through your thick eyelashes.

He was about to say something mean, you could tell by the glint in his eyes, but it got stuck in his throat.

Your eyes shone like diamonds, rimmed with eyeliner, that made you look like an attentive cat, and as his gaze traveled down your body, his mouth stood open as if he couldn't believe what stood before him.

He knew you as his best friend's annoying little sister, usually in sweatpants and comfy clothes when he was around, but right now you were a goddess whose presence he couldn't escape.

"Hello? Woojin?? Earth to Idiot?" you asked, waving both hands in front of his face when he didn't respond and also didn't let go of your hips.

Slowly, that brought him back to the here and now, and he looked into your eyes, caught, as if you'd saw him stealing cookies.

"Uh yeah? What did you say?" he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

What was wrong with him? You really had never seen him speechless before.

"I asked if you didn't have your own home?“

Gradually the teasing grin returned and he pinched your side lightly as his hands were still tightly closed around your waist. Your skin tingled strangely at the spot and even though your mind was literally screaming at you, you couldn't put any distance between you.

"What's the point when it's so much nicer at your place?"

You tilted your head a little and eyed him briefly. Surprised, you realized he wasn't dressed as casually as usual. He was wearing jeans, albeit ripped, and a dark red buttoned up shirt that sat tight against his biceps and chest. Slowly you realized what was going on here and you shook your head slightly.

Woojin just grinned wider as he saw the panic rise in your eyes.

"No. Oh no! No! GUNWOO!" you shouted almost hysterically and that's when he burst out of his bedroom door while still buttoning the last buttons of his blue shirt.

"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked, confused, looking back and forth between you.

Briefly, his gaze lingered on Woojins hands, which were still on your hips, whereupon he quickly took them away and clasped them in his neck.

"You're not coming to the same party! He just wants to embarrass me in front of my friends" you shouted, and Gunwoo put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but Woojin beat him to it:

"In fact, I've been invited, and Gunwoo is my companion."

Angrily, you glared at him and groaned in annoyance.

"You look gorgeous, by the way, dollface," he said, winking at you charmingly. You searched for sarcasm in his tone, but you didn't find it. Overwhelmed, you just stared at him and then walked away.

Your cheeks glowed and your hands cramped, forcing you to take a deep breath.

At the party, you immediately mingled with your friends and began to booze one drink after another. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the terrace at the back yard where people were throwing each other into the large pool. All these strange feelings were so confusing that you just wanted to drown them in alcohol. It was around midnight when you first saw your brother and Woojin again.

The older one was bringing a drink to a girl with long black hair and a pretty face. Next to her, Gunwoo was talking to her friend, and even though the alcohol was already clouding your vision, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love with the curly-haired boxer.

Directly something stung in your chest as he laughed at something she said and nudged her.

His hair shone like chocolate in the light and fell messily into his forehead. As the world spun around you and your friend's conversation slowly faded into the background, you stared at his hands for a while. The veins and pronounced knuckles had long fascinated you and you had rarely seen anything more attractive.

But when he put an arm around the girl, something similar to a growl crossed your lips.

You broke away from the circle with your friends without saying a word, and the plastic cup with the Coke-Vodka mixture in your hand crackled dangerously due to the way your fingers tightened around it.

You didn't know why or where this anger came from, but the alcohol prevented even a clear thought from breaking through the thick fog of rage.

As soon as you reached her, you changed your angle and stumbled into the girl with a really convincing startled "Oh". As you did so, you aimed accurately and the entire contents of your drink landed in the girl's face and on her light blue dress.

Shocked, she stumbled back a few steps and Woojin jumped to the side in time to avoid getting hit. With her mouth open, she wiped the burning alcohol from her eyes and you watched with satisfaction as the stain on her dress spread and her makeup ran as if a bucket of water had been poured on an oilpainting.

But from the outside you had a completely surprised expression on your face and held both hands in front of your mouth, to feign concern with your most convincing voice:

"Oh no! I'm so sorry about that! I shouldn't have drunk so much."

Stunned, the girl stared at you and you could see Woojin convulsively stifle a laugh at the angry expression on her face.

"Shit! What the hell!" she screeched at you, stomping like a little kid as she realized the extent of the disaster on her dress.

Gunwoo and the other girl watched silently, seeming to want to help but not daring to.

Woojin on the other hand, only looked at you. When your eyes met, he glared at you questioningly and he could have bet that the corners of your mouth twitched up in satisfaction for a moment.

Before you could fake a guilty conscience any further, she raced past you and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the bathroom.

Her friend ran right after her, and that's when Gunwoo turned to you and pulled you aside by the arm.

"What was that about?" he whispered as anyone around would care.

Of course he knew you did it on purpose. You couldn't hide anything from him. He knew you too well. Woojin crossed his arms and still said nothing. They both knew how much you could drink. You even drank Woojin under the table.

You just shrugged your shoulders unconcernedly and returned your brother's intense glare.

Yes, what was that all about? You had no answer to that. You were simply disturbed by the way the pretty girl looked at Woojin.

"It was an accident," you said unconvincingly, and now the amused smile came through after all.

"Don't bullshit me!" said Woojin and of course he had seen through your charade too.

But he couldn't even guess why you had done that. Maybe he thought you were crazier than he already supposed.

Astonished, he tried to read any answer from your facial features, but you were just as unreadable as usual. He never knew what was going on in your head and that made him curious.

You turned to him and leaned forward until your face hovered close to his.

"Oh. Did I mess up your one-night stand? I'm so sorry about that."

You smiled sweetly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Woojin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his gaze wandered aimlessly across your face.

Your noses were almost touching and the alcohol was messing up his mind. Your body in the dress was already hard to resist and he had been trying not to look in your direction all evening, even though he was almost addicted to the way you shifted your weight to the other foot, the way your curves endlessly flared under the thin fabric. If you weren’t so annoying…

Why had he never noticed how beautiful your nose was? How artistically your eyebrows were curved and how full your pink lips were?

Did they feel as soft as they looked?

"Now I guess you'll have to fill in for her. It would only be fair..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

You froze as his intense gaze drove heat into your cheeks. His eyes were fixed on your lips and you wanted to reply something provocative, but the amber around the black of his eyes shone so beautifully that you unconsciously bit your lower lip.

Of course, he was just teasing you, but something about his tone made you feel embarrassed.

Your fingers twitched and you fought the urge to brush the strand of hair from his forehead. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your stupid heart.

It was only seconds, but the moment seemed to captivate you for an eternity. The music and the people around you only seemed like background noise by now.

"No way would I sleep with you!" you finally replied, but why did the words feel so heavy on your tongue?

Like when you claimed, chattering your teeth in front of Gunwoo, that you weren't cold, even though he had told you a hundred times to bring a jacket.

He tilted his head a bit and just smiled in amusement until Gunwoo put a hand on his shoulder and called out to fight the loud music:

"I'm going home! Mom called. She needs help. Some pipe at the sink broke. Are you coming too?"

Woojin seemed snapped out of a trance, and you both looked in different directions so quickly, as if you could use it to undo the strange moment.

"Uh yeah. Yes I'll be right there."

Then your brother turned to you.

"Are you coming?"

Briefly you were tempted to agree, but your stupid heart only raced when you looked at Woojin. Whatever was wrong with you, you desperately needed to do something about it. It was disgusting.

"No. I'll stay for a while."

Gunwoo was going to protest, and he'd throw you over his shoulder if he had to, which is why you quickly disappeared between people until he lost sight of you.

Your head squeezed uncomfortably and you clutched your chest in which your heart just wouldn't calm down. Like a wild bird fluttering incessantly in its cage. You grabbed another cup and rushed out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time.

Actually, you didn't smoke. You hated the taste and the smell of smoke. But Woojin hated it even more and that was reason enough to put the cigarette between your lips and take a deep push.

But on the second puff, you coughed in disgust and threw the cigarette into the trash can.

Confused, you ran into the bathroom on the second floor. There was less going on and in front of the large mirror you first took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.

Your cheeks were pink, but otherwise you looked like before.

Then why did it feel like the world had turned around you?

Woojin's eyes and that annoying grin just wouldn't leave your thoughts. Annoyed with yourself, you dabbed some water on your forehead and chest, perhaps to lessen the effect of the alcohol.

Because that had to be the reason. You had simply drunk too much.

After you were reasonably calm again, you mingled with the people. Your brother and Woojin were fortunately nowhere to be seen. They were probably long gone.

You found your friends again and the conversations distracted you a little from the chaos in your head.

"You look stunning," said a guy about your age as you stood at the bar getting another drink.

"Thanks," you smiled lightly and with a quick glance you had to admit, he was really good looking. He was tall, well built and had a striking face. You struck up a conversation and he was actually funny as well. Actually he seemed to be kind and smart. Also the complete opposite of Woojin.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a while.

"Sure."

He led you by the hand to the dance floor and you moved to the music, laughing and goofing around a bit. However, a strange feeling crawled up the back of your neck. Like someone was watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder a few times, but in the middle of the party, among the tightly dancing couples, drunken teenagers, and loud music, you couldn't make out anyone.

The alcohol quickly made the moments flow into each other and you lost track of time. You finally found yourself in a dark corner, the guy whose name you had already forgotten, had his hands firmly on your hips, pressed you against the wall and spread hungry kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and really tried to concentrate on the moment.

It wasn't the first time you made out with someone at a party and this time he was even friendly, charming and good looking. You rarely got that lucky and it was a welcome distraction.

You just didn't want to think about Woojin anymore.

But as soon as his fingers ran over your sides and his lips brushed your skin, you imagined how the idiot would touch you.

Would he be gentle and cautious, or dominant and rough?

A gasp escaped you as the guy cupped your breast with a hand and somehow sounded suspiciously like Woojin in your head, and when you opened your eyes and stopped seeing the boxer's broad shoulders in front of you like moments before in your imagination, your heart stopped for a moment.

What had you just been thinking about?

Panicking, you pushed the guy away from you, who looked at you in confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and you just shook your head. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger and you feared choking on it if you didn't get out of this place soon.

"What's wrong?" he continued to ask as you picked up your purse and pulled out your cell phone.

'I just imagined you were my brother's best friend, who I actually hate, and kind of liked the idea.'

Instead you said:

"Nothing. Everything's fine. But I really have to go home now," you assured him, patting him clumsily on the shoulder as a goodbye, not knowing what to do in such a situation.

He was completely flabbergasted and looked after you as you hurried down the stairs and left the party in a complete rush.

Only when you had passed the large estate a few streets behind you, you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. The fresh night-air blew your hair out of your face and it smelled like wet asphalt and leaves. The streetlight illuminated the side streets just enough so you could still read the street names on the signs.

While you were trying to call a cab on your cell phone, you realized what kind of neighborhood you had landed in. It looked like an industrial park and there was no one on the street. You started to feel uncomfortable and when you thought you heard footsteps behind you, you ran faster.

Cursing, you tried several cab companies, but none answered. The line was busy and the constant beeping seemed to mock you. You winced when the sound was behind you again. You definitely hadn't imagined it.

Your heart was already pounding in your ears and just as you tapped Gunwoo's number, your wrist was jerked back hard and the next thing you felt was a blow on your temple.

Then everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes you were already being dragged into a dark alley. Your vision was blurry and your head throbbed painfully, but you could make out at least three black figures.

Only when your back hit a cold stone wall did your sanity seem to return.

"Well, what have we here?" you heard the tallest of them say. His raspy voice vibrated in your ears and when you recognized the three black-clad and masked men, fear ate so deeply into your chest that your eyes instantly filled with tears.

You wanted to scream for help, but before a sound could pass your lips, a hand was pressed over your mouth and you were slammed hard against the wall. Painfully you groaned and stared at your attacker with wide eyes.

"Such a pretty thing, out so late, all alone?" he asked, and there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

The other hand was firmly on your hip and you thought you would faint from fear, but with your last willpower you stubbornly returned his gaze and tried not to let your despair show.

The other two thugs were standing menacingly behind him. One had a baseball bat in his hand, the other had brass knuckles on both fists. You felt like you were trapped in a bad movie and wanted nothing more than to just wake up. You could see your cell phone lying on the ground behind them. The screen still glowing and Gunwoo just one call away. It had to have fallen out of your hand when he hit you.

"Listen, if I take my hand away now, you're going to be nice and quiet and not cause any problems, otherwise I'm going to have to be rude, understand?"

He talked to you like you were a little kid and you pressed your hands against your thighs to keep them from shaking.

You nodded and your heart drummed so wildly you feared dying of a heart attack.

"Good girl..." he purred, slowly removing his hand from your mouth.

Instead of screaming, you clenched your teeth hard, jerked your knee up, and caught him right between the legs. Gunwoo had shown you often enough what to do when you were attacked.

Never by three armed men, though.

At that time you had only laughed and said:

"What could happen to me? I have you. You always protect me."

Everything happened so fast that you could hardly take a breath. Fortunately, you had hit it dead on.

Groaning in pain, he slumped forward and you lashed out, hitting him in the nose with your fist, just as you had seen many times with Woojin and Gunwoo in the ring. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, you wriggled out of his grasp and ran towards the street, the adrenaline rushing in your ears.

Your breath caught in relief as you almost reached the main road, but you were thrown back hard by your hair. Screeching, you flailed around as rough grips closed around your stomach and yanked you all the way back again.

Desperately you tried to hit something, but most of your blows came to nothing, until you were thrown against the wall again and the anger-distorted face of the gorilla appeared in front of you. You felt something warm run down your temple and you instantly fell silent as his hand closed around your neck and squeezed until you were gasping desperately for air.

"Stupid bitch! Get her purse! Look how much she's got on her!" he ordered his minions, and they ripped the purse from your body.

They quickly found your wallet, took the money inside and threw the rest aside. The one with the baseball bat handed the leader the money and he pocketed it before looking back at you and you fervently hoped they would take the money and leave.

You tugged at his hand, but it remained iron-clad around your throat and you felt your field of vision getting smaller and smaller.

Blood soaked his mask and he had trouble speaking. At least you got him right.

"Shit, she's really tough..." he laughed and tore the mask off his face.

When you saw the cruel face, your heart sank and desperation slowly made your resistance collapse. His eyes wandered lustfully down your body and the grip on your neck loosened a little.

"She looks really hot... I guess we got really lucky today," he said and his minions laughed disgustingly.

"What do you think? We have a little fun and you make up for beating me, huh?" he purred, and the fear took on entirely different proportions.

The tears now flowed freely down your cheeks and you tugged harder on his hand, but he didn't move a millimeter. The other two walked a few steps away and turned their backs on you. Maybe to keep watch, maybe to ease their consciences.

With his other hand he grabbed your hip and pushed your legs apart with his knee. In your mind you prayed to whatever God there was to help you. You felt alone and completely helpless that you were about to give up.

Like in a trance, you only noticed how he tore the dress at your chest and pushed it up your legs. You squinted your eyes, your heart ached and fear gradually made you drift away as soon as you heard his belt buckle open.

"Hey you fucking asshole! Hands off her! Now!"

Your eyelids fluttered at the aggressive shout and before your tormentor could turn around, he was yanked away from you and a fist hit him in the jaw with such force that he staggered back.

As soon as you regained your breath, you gasped and slumped against the wall. Your legs no longer supported you and you could only watch, crouched on the floor, as Woojin stood in front of the gorilla and raised his fists.

"What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?" he shouted at him and now the others also became attentive and rushed to help their boss. He seemed to notice them only now.

"Shit," he muttered and gave you a curt look. The tears in your eyes and the blood slowly running down your temple were enough to make his anger boil over and something animalistic entered his eyes.

You grabbed your aching throat and couldn't believe he was really here. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by new fear as you saw them circling him, baseball bat at the ready.

Woojin breathed calmly and fixated his attackers intently. As he did so, he gritted his teeth aggressively and his jaw muscles twitched with tension.

"You little bastard. Do you really think you can stand up to us?" the one with brass knuckles asked provocatively and Woojin just laughed bitterly.

"Let's try."

You knew the look from the ring, only this time it was aggressive and angry. There wasn't a glint left of the enthusiasm of sportsmanship flickering in his eyes.

There was only blackness and unbridled hatred there.

With that, the gorilla charged at him, but he dodged with ease. He also dodged the next blows and countered with a series of quick, precise punches, all of them hit forcefully. But already the one with the baseball bat swung out and missed him by a hair's breadth.

Woojin kicked him in the knee, punched the third in the face and fended off more blows from the goon. With a well-aimed kick, he managed to knock the gorilla off his feet, but a startled growl escaped him as the baseball bat hit him hard on the rib.

Woojin staggered back, gasping, took the guard up and cashed in a few more blows with the baseball bat until he found a gap and with a clean blow to the temple took out the attacker.

Quick as a flash, he grabbed the baseball bat and threw it at the goon, who was just getting back up at the same time as the other hit the ground.

With a rattling breath, you looked around for anything you could help with.

Woojin ducked away under a few more punches and seemed more tense. He was in pain and the blows with the baseball bat seemed to have hurt him. One precise blow with the brass knuckles would be enough to knock him out.

The gorilla huffed and grumbled like a bear as he tried to get back to his feet.

That's when you spotted a rope behind a trash can. You quickly grabbed it and crawled on all fours to the giant before he could get up and wrapped it around his neck from behind.

He gurgled for air as you pulled the rope tight and tried with all your might to fight his resistance.

You lay on your back and tugged at the rope with all your body weight until your arms trembled, but the gorilla just didn't weaken.

Like a worm, he writhed on the ground, gasping and trying to get rid of the rope. Glancing at Woojin, you winced violently as a blow hit him hard in the face. His head was thrown back and as soon as you saw the blood on his cheek, it flooded your body with renewed energy.

A tortured cry escaped you and you tugged harder on the rope and finally the resistance weakened.

"You stupid asshole! Go to sleep already!", you pressed out and felt the rope cutting into your palms.

Woojin slowly straightened up and fought against the dazed state with all his might. He lunged again, throwing punches so fast you couldn't even follow them.

Just when your muscles were burning so badly you were afraid you'd have to let go, the huge body went limp and you let go of the rope as if you'd been burned by it.

Woojin dodged away under a hard punch at that moment, knocking the thug off his feet and letting a shower of punches rain down on him until he lay motionless.

Getting on his feet again, he swayed briefly and shook out his wrists before rushing to you and kneeling in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around your exposed body and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he took your face in his hands and said worriedly:

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

His voice rolled over with concern and you put a hand on his reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you," you replied, still in a raspy voice. In the pale light of the lantern, you could see the blood running down his cheek and you felt guilty that he had caught so many bruises for you.

"You're bleeding. Those fucking assholes..." he cursed, his voice dripping with anger as he saw the blood on your temple. The concern in his eyes overwhelmed you. There was nothing else for him but you at the moment and as he scanned you for more injuries, he saw your torn dress.

He quickly slipped out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around your body and deeply sucked in his scent that clung to it and it made you immediately feel safe.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Can you walk?" he asked carefully, putting an arm around your stomach to help you to your feet.

"Yes I can do it," you dismissed it, trying to look strong, but in truth your head was throbbing, it hurt to swallow, and your knees were as soft as jello. Reaching the gorilla, he carefully let go of you and picked up your purse, cell phone and wallet that were scattered around him.

He handed them to you and you watched as he knelt down to him and slapped his face.

"Hello!" he shouted.

"Wake up, asshole!", and slapped him again until he grumbled and slowly regained consciousness. He groaned in pain and writhed on the ground, making a pathetic picture.

Then Woojin straightened up again and put a foot right to his throat so he couldn't move any further. Anyway, the guy's face was so swollen that you could barely make out any structure.

Then Woojin looked to you and asked:

"How much did he steal from you?"

After a moment's thought and a look in your pocket, you answered truthfully:

"About 200.000 won."

He patted it down and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket where he had put your money earlier. Then he took out the bills, counted them out quietly, and handed you a wad of them while the gorilla watched, panting angrily.

"Then this is yours."

He took out the rest of the bills, which definitely were a total over 500.000 won. Apparently you weren't the first one they had robbed tonight.

Then Woojiin handed you the rest of the money as well.

"And this is for the unpleasant trouble he caused you, isn't it my friend?" he asked emphatically, pressing his foot on the gorilla's throat until he gurgled and nodded with a groan.

"Let's go," you muttered, glancing at the unconscious thugs. All of them were covered in blood. Woojin had really raged and from their injuries you could clearly see his anger like a handwriting. He quickly put an arm around you again to support you and together you walked out of the alley onto the street.

After a few shaky steps, he looked at you worried from the side:

"Are you sure you can walk?"

"Yes everything is fine. Stop worrying, it's annoying!" you drove at him a little too harshly than intended.

He raised his eyebrows and before you could react, he lifted you up bridal style and carried you across the street.

"What are you doing? Woojin what..." you stuttered, but he just smiled softly, which silenced you.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked after a while.

"I don't live far from here. I'll take you to my place."

He expected resistance, but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise when you gave in. You were too exhausted and going to his place really seemed like the best idea. Sighing, you relaxed in his arms for the first time and leaned your head against his chest.

His jacket warmed you and his strong arms made you feel safe and secure. He looked down at you as your eyes fell closed and smiled in relief.

At his front door, you opened your eyes again when he lowered you down. As he unlocked the door, he groaned in pain and held his side with a resigned laugh.

"Shit that guy hit me clean with that bat."

A shaky gasp escaped you. Seeing him hurt like that burdened you more than you thought it would and you wanted to take all the pain from him he was suffering because of you. You silently examined his profile and inevitably tears rose again when you saw the bleeding wound on his cheek.

"Woojin?" you murmured in a brittle voice and he looked at you concerned, afraid that something might be wrong with you. Astonished, he watched you step close to him and gently placing a hand against his cheek.

Your lower lip quivered dangerously and he wanted to say something to make the sad gleam in your eyes disappear. But when he said something, he usually made things worse and he didn't want to risk that right now, when you were so close to him. Your breath bounced against his face and his gaze was magically drawn to your lips.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and your voice broke on the last word as you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and a bruise was already forming underneath. The guilt was overwhelming and never would you have thought to care so much for the macho man.

Almost panicked, he shook his head and took your hands in his so you looked at him.

"No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all those assholes' fault!" he tried to cheer you up, but you just smiled tiredly.

Feverishly he considered and then grabbed his cheek, wincing slightly as it wound was already burning like hell.

"Oh that? That's nothing! I've gotten worse as a boxer!" he said, knocking his fist against his head.

"That's probably why I'm such a idiot, like you always say."

That actually made you smile and you even laughed slightly. He would have loved to jump in the air with relief, but his aching ribs wouldn't allow it. He squeezed your hands gently and then held the front door to the stairwell open for you.

"Come on. Let's go inside and get something good to eat."

Quickly you nodded and let him lead you to the door of his home. As he let you into his apartment and you looked around the room, you noticed that you had never been here before.

You were always at your place or out on the town.

"Do you live alone?" you asked as you kicked off your shoes and he turned on the lights.

The living room was tranquil and empty except for a small red sofa and a television. The kitchen was right next to it and the sink was stacked with pots, plates, silverware and even pizza boxes. Amused, you brushed a line through the dust at the large window through which the light from the street lamps shone.

"Yes. My father and I don't get along well... Tension flew regularly and so I thought it's better to keep my distance," he said, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom. Had I known you were coming, I might have cleaned up," he said and you looked over your shoulder in disbelief.

"You wouldn't have."

He snorted in amusement and pulled the blinds closed.

"Yeah you're probably right."

He gathered up a few clothes that were all over the place and tossed them into a pile that only grew.

Despite the mess, which you wouldn't have expected any other way from Woojin, it smelled incredibly good. It was the scent that clung to him as well and was burned into your head.

Meanwhile, the blood on your temple had dried and began to itch.

Actually, you didn't want to know what you looked like. You probably bore more resemblance to a scarecrow.

"Where's your bathroom? I'd like to take a shower."

He was already standing in the kitchen, throwing a handful of ramen into a pot. At the mere sight of it, your stomach grumbled like crazy.

"Down the hall. The door on the left. Towels should be in the closet," he called as he worked, and you smiled as he threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

Before you left, you turned back to him.

"Woojin? Can you please not tell Gunwoo about today? He'll just worry unnecessarily."

Woojin pressed his lips together and looked pained.

"I don't like lying to him."

"I know. I'll tell him. I promise. Just not today okay?"

With that, he seemed satisfied and he nodded.

"All right."

In the bathroom, you slipped out of his jacket and carefully folded it. Your dress, however, was beyond saving. You put the torn rag aside and looked at your body in the mirror.

Dark spots were already forming on your hips and on your neck and you got goosebumps when you thought of the large hands that had grabbed you there. Your makeup was completely smeared and there was a wound on your temple from the first blow.

Sighing, you opened your hair and marveled at all the beauty products lined up outside the shower. He had more conditioner than you did. However, that was the last thing you would complain about.

But you made a little mental note when you needed something again to get on his nerves.

As soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. The blood dyed the ground brown and with the water you also tried to wash away the events of the evening.

Hissing, you looked at your wrist. It was swollen from the pumch you had thrown and your knuckles were cracked.

How did the boys always do it without hurting themselves?

Fresh again and with renewed energy, you stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body.

"I feel like a new woman ," you commented as you walked into the kitchen, the smell of fresh ramen making your mouth water.

Woojin looked up from the two bowls he was preparing and when he saw your bare legs under the towel, he gulped first.

"I texted Gunwoo that you were drunk as fuck and now snoring on my couch."

That was still better than troubling him with the truth, which is why you nodded and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Thanks."

But you didn't seem to mind just standing in front of him in a towel. By being with Gunwoo all the time, he had often seen you in your pajamas, without makeup, or in sweatpants. It was almost as if he lived with you. Probably you had spent too much time together or you saw him as another brother. The thought tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't know why.

„Do you have anything I can wear?" you broke the awkward silence, and that's when he finally stopped staring at your legs.

"Sure," he quickly replied and disappeared into the only other door next to the bathroom.

When he came back he handed you a pair of yellow sweatpants and a black shirt with blue flames on it.

Disgusted, you lifted the clothes up with only two fingers.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you commented, and he laughed throatily.

"I'm sure it looks great on you!" he grinned and you wanted to punch him.

"Your clothing style is really questionable sometimes," you muttered, and it was obvious that he had picked out the ugliest things to tease you.

Or maybe he really meant it?

-> [2]

Taglist (open):

@littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @tasteskz-sworld

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