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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky.

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings.

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again.

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you?

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge.

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath.

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here?

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you.

"You did."

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead.

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth.

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.”

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.”

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched.

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach.

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you.

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist.

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin.

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped.

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something.

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky.

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened.

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do.

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around.

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx.

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise.

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now. Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day.

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear.

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.”

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close.

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings.

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead.

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name.

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case.

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat.

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely.

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.”

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.”

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile.

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen.

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.”

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on.

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.”

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way.

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?”

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.”

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did.

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?”

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.”

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes.

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.”

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that.

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them.

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up.

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty.

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth.

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere.

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

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zepskies · 26 days

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Take Me Home - Part 8

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: I think you guys are gonna like this chapter. 😘 (Or at least I hope so.)

Song Inspo: “Take Me Home (Country Roads)” by John Denver, and “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Elvin Bishop

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smut, of course. (Finally.)

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 8: Take Me Home

“You sure you don’t need anything else, hun?” Denise asked you, for the third time.

She sat beside your hospital bed and rubbed your arm. You covered her hand with yours, careful not to tug the IV line taped to the top of your hand.

“I’m fine. It’s okay,” you replied. Your aunt was fighting tears in her red-rimmed eyes, but if she started crying, then you would start crying all over again. You gave her a small smile and grabbed your cup of water instead.

Now that you were getting fluids and electrolytes pumped into you (and you’d had a big turkey and cheese sandwich), you were starting to feel better. Emily had been checked out here in the Emergency Department as well, but she had also been discharged just a few minutes ago.

She came to say goodbye to you over in your curtained off room. She was reluctant to leave you here, but you hugged her close and fought the tears in your eyes. Beau and Carla were there too, both waiting for their daughter and smiling at the scene.

“Time for you to get some rest,” you told her with a smile.

“Are they going to keep you here all night?” she asked, after pulling away from your arms. She sniffled too, wiping at her face.

“Probably not,” you said. “I think they’re just being extra.”

“Not if you hit your head hard enough,” Denise remarked. Her gaze was pointedly chiding.

The doctor thought the tenderness on the back of your head was just bruising. You didn’t seem to have a concussion. She mostly wanted to keep you because you were dehydrated, more so than Emily. That, combined with the minor head trauma, meant you were a bit too out of it for the doctor’s liking. She wanted to keep you on the IV for a while longer, as well as monitor the severity of your head injury.

You sighed. All you wanted to do was go home and take a shower, then fall face first in your bed…

Well, okay, maybe not face first. You were a bit bruised up. The nurse had also applied a salve on your wrists for the tape and rope burns.

“Well, I hope you feel better,” said Emily. You gave her one last smile, squeezing her hand. You guided her off to join her mom in the hallway.

Meanwhile, Beau approached your bed. Denise wore a certain smile, but she backed out to give you two some privacy.

You smiled up at Beau, who touched your bruised cheek tenderly. In his eyes, you saw pain, but also deeper emotions shining there. He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after he pulled away. “I need to go and get Emily settled at home, but I’ll come see you soon as I can.”

You shook your head. “It's okay, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” he said. His gaze became heavier, weighted with guilt. “For trying to take care of her through all this. I know I couldn’t. I failed both of you, and I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his hand with both of yours. Your eyes burned with emotion, but you looked up at him firmly.

“This isn’t on you,” you said. “I’m sure you did your best. She knows it, and I do too. And we’re okay.”

Beau let out a long breath. You knew he didn’t totally believe you, but he nodded and laid a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said. You smiled through your tears.

“Okay. I’m counting on that.”

That night, Beau tucked Emily into bed like she was still a little girl. She humored him, smiling in amusement while he smoothed the warm quilt over her, pulled up to her shoulders. He bent down and kissed her forehead, just like he used to do every night after story time.

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, I’ll be right down the hall,” he said. At this moment, Carla was setting up one of the two guest rooms for him. If nothing else, Avery had spared no expense on this country-style house.

“Have you checked on her yet?” Emily asked.

Beau knew she meant you. He sighed, shaking his head. He’d been preoccupied with making sure Emily got home safe, but it didn’t mean he’d forgotten about you. He just didn’t want to leave his daughter tonight.

“She tried to play it off, but he hit her pretty hard,” Emily said. She looked concerned about you, and Beau was too.

He breathed through that information with a tense nod. He was now actually grateful for Sunny Barnes, and the choice she made up on that mountainside in the woods.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Denise:

They’re keeping her overnight at the hospital.

Before Beau’s worry could start climbing, another text came in.

Nothing to worry about. Some of her levels were still low, so they just want to monitor her progress overnight and be sure she’s okay. She’ll probably get discharged in the morning.

He nodded in understanding (and with a breath of relief).

“Who’s that?” Emily asked.

“It’s Denise, says they’re gonna have to stay overnight. But it’s nothing serious,” he supplied. Then he texted back.

OK, good… I’ll come by the hospital in the morning, if that’s all right.

Denise soon replied.

Of course it is. See you tomorrow, Sheriff!

Beau pocketed his phone, just to spy his daughter’s sly smile. He felt his face warming with embarrassment.

“What?” he asked. Emily sighed and freed her arms, crossing them over the quilt.

“If you love her, you should really just tell her,” she said.

To say that shocked Beau would be an understatement. He gave a chuckle of disbelief.

“You playing matchmaker for me already?” he said.

“I have two working eyes, Dad,” she wryly replied. Beau’s lips quirked upwards, but his gaze fell with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” Emily said, laying a hand on his arm. “I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with Mom.”

He smiled. Sometimes she could be just like her mom, he reflected. In a good way.

“You’re really okay with it?” he asked. Emily raised an incredulous brow at him.

“Yeah, Dad. I like her a lot,” she said. “And not just because she was there for me through this whole thing…”

Beau’s heart began to break again, seeing the trauma in her eyes. He leaned in and gave her a warm, comforting hug. She held him back just as tight, resting her head on his shoulder.

“As long as I’m alive, I’m gonna make sure you’re safe,” he promised. “Even if I gotta follow you to the prom.”

Emily laughed through the beginnings of tears. Even if he did make through on that promise one day, she might not mind so much.

By the morning, the doctor was happier with your vitals and determined that your bruised skull was indeed minor. You were finally given the green light to get discharged from the hospital, and you couldn’t have been any more ready to go home.

Denise was flitting around your hospital room to get your stuff together. If you were honest, she was making you a bit dizzy as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, I tidied up your apartment a bit when I was getting your clothes and stuff. So you shouldn’t have to do anything when you get home, except get some rest, of course,” she said. She set your little duffel bag full of your dirty clothes from yesterday, your toiletries, and your purse.

You now wore a fresh shirt and some jeans, but despite using baby wipes to try and clean yourself, you still felt dusty and grimy, even in your hair.

“Let’s go then,” you said, about to push yourself up from your hospital bed. Denise stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Not just yet, honey,” she said. She was texting someone on her phone. You gave her a look of confusion.

“Why? You ordering room service or something?” you joked. Just then, someone’s tall frame stepped into the doorway of your room.

“Special Delivery,” said Beau. He wore a smile to go along with his familiar beige jacket, as well as a takeout bag from your favorite breakfast café, and a small bouquet of flowers.

Your eyes widened in shock, then with tears.

“What…”

“I told you I’d be back,” he teased. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

He swooped in and gave you the flowers first, along with a sweet kiss on the cheek. You sniffled, admiring the pretty reds, oranges, and yellows in the assortment. Your eyes traveled up to his handsome grin.

He bent down beside you to offer his arm. “You ready to go then?”

You were confused, but you still curled a hand around his arm, letting him help you to your feet.

“I asked Denise if I could give you a police escort home,” Beau said, his eyes dancing. “Is that all right with you?”

Your wide eyes dimmed with understanding and amusement, especially when you looked over at your aunt. She really was devious.

“That’s very all right,” you said.

“Good! I’m gonna head home, but I’ll be checking in on you later,” Denise said.

She kissed your cheek as well, and then she was gone, leaving you still holding onto Beau’s arm. He leaned over and grabbed your duffel bag along with the food. You knew you’d be breaking that open in the car.

He looked down on you with a softer smile.

“Can I finally get you out of here?” he asked.

You smiled back.

“Yeah,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, take me home.”

After getting home to a nice clean apartment (and bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches eaten in the car), Beau set down your things while you went to grab a shower.

You tried to be quick but thorough in washing your hair, along with the rest of yourself.

Beau made sure dishes were put away, trash was taken out, all the little things he could think of, so you wouldn’t have to later. Then he relaxed on the couch and watched some TV while he waited for you.

He noticed that you’d replaced the coffee table with solid wood this time. The pictures had new frames.

He took note of one with your father, who was dressed in his formal uniform, with the white hat and decals that designated him as a firehouse chief. There was another of you with a group of friends. (Michael was missing from that group, Beau noted with satisfaction.) Then there was one of just you and Mary.

And on the wall was a new canvas that didn’t yet have a frame. It was an unsigned painting of a forest of yellow aspen trees, with a single road cutting through them.

“That’s the view I had when I drove into Montana for the first time,” you said. Beau switched off the TV and turned to look at you.

You were leaning on the back of the couch, next to his head. You gave him a smile, before you pushed away to come around and join him.

“You’re getting good, you know,” he said, gesturing at your artwork.

And you smelled nice, he thought, like jasmine soap and whatever shampoo you used. He noted that you’d mostly dried your hair. It was the good kind of messy, falling around your shoulders. You’d also opted for a thin sweater over your jeans. He caught the edge of something lacey peeking out of your collar.

“Thanks,” you said, a little bashful. “I’m trying. I’ve been taking lessons.”

“It shows,” he nodded. He inched closer to you, turning towards you with a bent knee resting on the cushion. You did the same. His arm rested across the back of the couch, beside your head. By now he’d taken off his jacket, so you could almost feel the warmth of his skin near your cheek.

“Anyway, how’s Emily doing?” you asked, touching his knee. “And Carla?”

He nodded with a sigh. “Em’s shaken up, but…she’ll be okay. I think she’s handling it better than her mom, to be honest.”

You could understand that, actually. Not only had Carla lost her husband, but she’d almost lost her daughter in the same night. You didn’t know how you would cope in that situation either.

“She’s a tough kid,” you said of Emily. “But Carla seems strong too.”

“She is,” Beau agreed. “They both are.”

He leaned forward and gently thumbed at the yellowing bruise just under your eye. He sighed.

“Em told me everything that happened,” he said.

You bit your lip. You tried not to let it, but a fresh wave of emotion was rising in your chest, up to your throat.

“I tried to get Buck to let her go,” you said. Your voice trembled, almost choking on your words. “I’m sorry—”

“Hey.” He caressed your cheek. He blinked past the stinging in his own eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Do you hear me?”

You sniffed as a couple tears made their way down your face. You quickly wiped them away.

“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”

“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”

It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your shining eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.

“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.

“I’m not forgiving you,” you said, “because I don’t blame you. All I wanted is what I’m getting right now. You, right here with me.”

Beau shook his head and let out a sharp breath. Then he finally closed the distance once again, meeting you with a kiss. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was passionate and claiming, and soon it was devouring. You pulled him in and tangled your fingers in his hair. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you into his lap. There you moved to straddle his hips, battling with lips and tongue all the while.

The kiss broke suddenly, letting you both catch your breath for a moment.

“Wanted do that all week,” Beau said, through panting breaths. You laughed a little, soothing your fingers through his hair. You took a comfortable seat in his lap.

“Remember how you helped put my bed together when I moved in?” you asked.

“Sure do. Nearly lost a thumb on that one,” he replied cheekily. You grinned and brushed your thumb along his lower lip.

“Well, then I think it’s only fair you help me break it in,” you said, maybe sounding more confident than you felt.

Beau smiled. Yet he still managed to surprise you; with supportive hands under your thighs, he took you with him when he stood. You yelped in surprise and clung to his shoulders. He laughed and pressed a kiss into your neck, before he carried you into the bedroom.

There he sat you down on the edge of the bed. He lowered and kneeled between your legs, letting you hold him there with his bearded face in your hands again. Your heart was full looking down at him, finding his amusement as well as his desire. It was a beautiful thing, you thought.

His hands slipped under the hem of your sweater and began inching it up. You shivered at the way his hands felt against your bare skin. You helped him pull the sweater over your head, revealing a black silk camisole underneath, edged with lace.

He hummed in appreciation and felt the silk between his fingers.

“Were you planning for this?” he asked.

“I might’ve hoped,” you said with a smile.

You then sighed at the feeling of him leaning in to kiss down your neck, and down your chest. He stopped briefly to get the camisole off, finding your red, lacy bra underneath. That was his other favorite color on you so far. His kisses led him down between your breasts as he unhooked the bra next.

You tugged at the back of his sweater, trying to get it off. He paused in his explorations to help you. By then he got impatient with kneeling. He took you with him by the hips when he straightened, letting his hands feel every exposed curve of you. You sighed against his lips, kissing him again with renewed passion.

Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, and over his slightly furry chest, down to his belt between you. You started on the buckle. The click of the metal was like a switch in his brain; he let you get as far as unbuttoning his jeans before he took over for you. After all his days of indecision, he was a bit impatient.

Most of his clothes became a haphazard pile next to most of yours on the floor. You let him guide you back onto the bed, though he was careful in cupping the back of your head when he laid you down. You might not have had a concussion, but you were still bruised and healing, in more ways than one.

Beau had you almost naked underneath him, save for your unhooked bra and panties. For a moment, he had to savor the sight of you, beautiful and laid out for him. But he found himself slowing down for a different reason. He caressed your cheek.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, I just brought you home from the hospital—”

You cut him off by hooking a hand behind his neck, and pulling him down for a heated kiss.

“Don’t make me wait anymore, Beau,” you whispered. “I need you.”

He looked down at you with a growing smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

You laughed, and the sound and brightness of it made his smile deepen. He ducked down to burn another path of wet, open-mouthed kisses down the other side of your neck.

You sighed and tilted your head, giving him access. Your hands swept across his shoulders, down the smooth planes of his back.

You hooked a thigh around his hip, bringing him flush against your center. His rising length brushed the dampness in your panties. He moaned against your skin. His kisses became sloppier down to your breasts.

You helped him peel the loose bra from your shoulders. He flung it away to parts unknown, making you giggle. He smirked in response, but soon your amusement turned to moans as his lips found one of your breasts.

His tongue swirled around the hardened bud and scraped gently with his teeth. He also palmed at the other, squeezing gently and rolling a hard nipple under his fingers.

“God, Beau…” Your voice was breathy and desperate, your fingers starting to rake through his hair and across his scalp. It made a shiver run down his spine. He wondered what it would take to have your nails scraping down his back.

You were already panting and squirming against him now, your legs gripping his waist tighter to try and find friction. He grabbed one of your thighs, just to feel the soft flesh under his hand.

“I gotcha, baby,” he said, panting hot breath between your breasts. “Gonna take care of you.”

“Please,” you whimpered. “It’s uh…been a long time.”

He nodded, glancing up at you. “Yeah, for me too.”

“Well, you’re doing great,” you said with a laugh.

He chuckled along with you. “I appreciate the encouragement.”

But this was all the encouragement he needed, he knew, as his fingers probed your wet heat through your underwear. You moaned and pressed yourself against his hand, seeking more. Part of him wanted to tease you, get you even more worked up…

Maybe next time, he thought. Right now, he didn’t have the patience. He pushed off you just long enough to take off your panties, bringing them down your legs and tossing them away in a smooth motion.

His own underwear came next before he lowered back down to you. You welcomed him with a searing kiss. You once again sunk your fingers into his hair and scraped with your nails, eliciting a sound from deep within his throat.

He held himself above you with a forearm above your head. His free hand moved down your body, caressing, squeezing your breast, then your ass.

“Need you to touch me,” you whispered against his lips.

He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t help teasing you a little.

“I am touching you.” He gave your ass another meaningful squeeze, but you just smirked and gave his a smack. It surprised him enough to make him buck against you.

“Ey!” he chuckled.

“Come on, cowboy,” you said. Your hand slipped in between you to find his hard cock resting against your thigh. He groaned and fastened his lips to your neck while your deft fingers explored him, teased him up and down the shaft, and the sensitive, already weeping head.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered. It had been a while since anyone but his own hand had touched him. Your soft hand felt heavenly as you used the wet beads of precum as lube across his velvety flesh. (And he had a feeling your mouth would be divine.)

But Beau wasn’t about to be outdone.

When you’d nearly brought him to the brink, teasing him with the twists and turns of your hand, he stopped you with a hand over yours and had to catch his breath for a moment. His forehead pressed into your shoulder. You giggled and rubbed his back with your free hand.

“Need a minute?” you teased. “I barely touched you.”

Beau shot you an amused look. “What can I say? You’ve got some talented hands.”

His lips brushed over the red, healing skin on your wrist. He moved further down to nip a biting kiss to the sensitive inside of your arm.

His beard scraped deliciously against your skin there, and then further down, as he laid kisses over your breasts, down your stomach, and finally down between your thighs. Your breathing became more labored the further down he went.

His fingers parted your folds and found your pussy wet and glistening for him. He gathered some of your wetness and brushed your clit, earning a sound of pleasure from you.

He let those sounds spur him on as he discovered what you liked and what you wanted, soon letting his long fingers find their way inside you.

Your hands clamped down on his shoulders as you writhed against him, pleading with his name, your hips beginning to undulate in time with his fingers.

He didn’t stop their motions pulsing inside you; his thumb circled insistently over your clit as well, until he felt your inner walls tighten and quiver around his hand, along with your shaking thighs. He swallowed up your keening cry with a deep kiss.

“You okay, baby?” he asked. He brushed your hair back, and it fanned out against your pillow. You panted heavily, but still managed to smile. You stroked his arm.

“Are you kidding?” you breathed. “Thought I was gonna break your damn hand.”

He smirked. “I considered that myself.”

His amusement only faded when a new realization hit him. “Aw shit. I don’t have a condom.”

He felt like a damn teenager, thinking with his dick and nothing else. Though he also hadn’t wanted to assume anything when he told Denise he would bring you home.

You shook your head and twined your arms around his neck.

“I’m on birth control…and I trust you,” you said.

Beau had a feeling that last part meant a lot of things. His smile grew, looking at you.

“Well, all right,” he said. “We’re in business then.”

“Oh, we’re in business, all right,” you replied. You giggled when he came back down to kiss you. He swept a hand along your cheek, tenderly.

If you love her, you should really just tell her.

That had been filtering in and out of his head all night and day. He couldn’t deny what that familiar swell of his heart meant every time he looked too deep into your eyes. He just wondered if it was too fast, too soon to say those words.

So in lieu of those words, he decided to show you.

He hooked your thighs around his hips and positioned himself at your entrance. After meeting your eyes and getting your breathless nod of approval, he slowly pushed inside you. Already he felt your core flutter around his cock as he brushed your clit. You both were breathing heavy again when he bottomed out with just the right amount of resistance.

“Goddamn,” he muttered. “Feel so fuckin’ good already.”

You nodded in agreement, squeezing his hips with your thighs.

“You rarin’ to go then?” you teased.

Those were his almost exact words to you, not so long ago. He’d been trying to get you to learn how to ride a horse, but he supposed there were…a few similarities here. He grinned down at you, and instead of answering, he shifted his hips, pulling out almost all the way, and pushing back in just as slowly.

A curse fell from your lips as your inner walls accommodated his girth. He gave you slow strokes to begin with, meeting your lips with a heated kiss when he could.

But once he found an angle that had you shuddering underneath him, squeezing him from the inside out, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A sheen of sweat broke out against his skin and yours as you moved together. Between moans and skin against skin, whispered encouragements, and playful goading, you felt the moment when he was close.

His movements began to stutter out of rhythm, his grip on your hip becoming almost bruising. You still needed a bit more, though you could practically taste your end; that hot coil was tightening, just not fast enough.

You slipped a hand between you to find your clit. His hand soon replaced yours though, wanting to do it himself. His deft fingers and his hard strokes brushing that sensitive spot inside finally made that coil snap. Warmth blossomed from your core and pulsed around his cock.

It had your pussy clenching on him so tight, he couldn’t help but spill into you with a ragged groan. You gasped, your back arching at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Afterwards, he relaxed onto his elbow by your head, mindful not to smother you as he caught his breath. You sank back into bed, panting yourself. You managed to reach up and sweep his hair from his eyes, then wiped some of the sweat from his brow. It brought his gaze to meet yours and find your smile.

Beau smiled back. His hand was more soothing along your thigh.

“Well,” he said. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.”

You burst out laughing. You covered your face with a hand, and it had his shoulders shaking as well.

He untangled from you and rolled onto his back. You followed him onto your side, closing your sticky thighs. You intended to ask if he wanted to join you for another shower in a bit, but for now, you wanted to savor this moment.

“Were you waiting the whole time so you could say that?” you asked.

“Nope. That was fresh. And I’m not ashamed to say, pretty proud of it,” he rejoined.

“I don’t know…” you said slyly, even as you trailed lazy fingers across his chest. Your nails dragged lightly over his skin, causing a delicious shiver to run through him. “I might need to rethink our future business transactions.”

Beau snorted and shook his head.

“All right. Let’s drop this metaphor,” he said. “I prefer to think of our time as pleasure, not business.”

He clasped your wandering hand against his chest, then raised it to his lips. It made your smile soften. You were at least half in love with this man.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

It’s our time now.

AN: 😘 Finally right?! Let me know what you thought of how they worked things out. 💗

(And thank you all so much for the birthday wishes. You guys are too good to me! 😭💓)

Next time, we have the grand finale...

Next Time:

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 9 (Finale!)

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fleurriee · 11 months

Text

— unwind ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; when the pressure becomes too much, all neteyam needs is some comfort from his mate.

word count ; 2.3k

themes ; fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; none bc neteyam is bby

author’s note ; this is just a cute little idea i thought of & couldn’t help myself from writing. makes a change from all the long ass things ive been writing that hurt my brain sometimes.

main masterlist request a fic!

After finally mating before the eyes of Ewya, yourself and Neteyam came together as one. It wasn’t too long ago now since the ritual occurred, and you found yourself continuing to bask in the blissful phase of your relationship - something you hoped never disappeared between the two of you.

Neteyam couldn’t have been a better mate towards you; when the two of you moved in together, you were sure your eyes were only filled with the love you held for him. The way he carried all of your stuff, insisting that he would do it all for you, setting everything up within your tent, making it your home, had you feeling pure domesticity.

His family, too, had been nothing but welcoming. Obviously, they had been doing so before you mated with Neteyam, but after the event, everything heightened ten-fold. Perhaps his parents understood the sudden feelings you were going through now - those of nerves, of excitement, of pressure. Now that you and Neteyam were mated, it wouldn’t be long before other Na’vi would start questioning the next chapter in your lives’ - children.

You loved Neteyam and you loved your relationship with him, but you still felt as though you could wait a little longer before deciding to grow your family. After all, the two of you were still young, and you had time before getting into anything serious. Thankfully, after speaking of your worries to your mate, he had agreed wholeheartedly, ensuring you that he didn’t mind if you wanted to wait. You had been a little worried about talking about it to him, in the beginning, not wanting to break his heart - two newly mated Na’vi were normally not too far off from their firstborn - and if he had an idea such as that in his mind, you’d feel more guilty than anything by letting him down.

But, like you said, you couldn’t have asked for a better mate.

However, there have been several occasions where Neteyam was slightly... unfavourable. Spending days on end training alongside both his father and younger brother eventually took a toll of him, constantly sticking up for the latter’s reckless actions, and taking on all of the pressure and responsibilities the former asked of him. Such days only left him feeling groggy and grumbling, mumbled words thrown over to you before slumping over to the mat, too mentally drained to do anything else.

You don’t mind these days, though - everyone had them, especially when you were the heir to the Olo’eyktan title. As his mate, your role was to always be there for him, through thick and thin, no matter the circumstance. Whether Neteyam needed some time alone, some peace and quiet, or whether he just simply needed you, held within your arms until the sun came up and he felt better about the next day ahead. He couldn’t let all his emotions go when he was out within the clan, keeping himself composed and acting as though unbothered of the chaos swirling all around him - but, he could when he was with you, letting everything go until he felt brand new again. You’d do anything for your mate.

That’s why as you’re cutting up the meats sent over from the latest hunting trip, situated comfortably on the floor as you concentrated on getting Neteyam’s portion the way he liked it, and Neteyam stormed in, you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever he needs.

The greeting you had once you spotted him in your peripheral vision dies in your throat when you notice his scrunched up features: furrowed eyes, pursed lips, fangs pointing sharply against his mouth. You can only begin to imagine what got under his skin this time.

Your ears perk up subconsciously, desperately trying to make out what he’s saying, but his moans are hushed under his breath. His head is angled towards the ground, fists clenched tightly as his body subconsciously moves him closer towards your awaiting figure. Once situated behind you, you feel him immediately slump down, getting closer until your back is pressed directly against his middle, sitting together as though you were one being. His arms wrap around your waist tightly, holding on like he never wanted to let you go, before shoving his head in the crook of your neck, nose taking a deep inhale of your scent, no doubt to calm him down.

Pausing to properly discern the situation that has quite literally been thrown on your lap, mind thinking over the best way to approach him when his actions clearly call for affection, you gently place the knife you were previously using down on the board, food long forgotten within your mind.

You bring your hand up to caress the top of his head, fingers slightly carding through some of his braids, turning your head and pressing a lingering kiss against him. You want to make sure he understands how much you appreciate him, even when you’re yet to find out what’s caused his agitation. Neteyam sometimes finds himself overthinking a lot of things, ranging from whether he’d be a good Olo’eyktan when the time comes to take over; whether he was a good son or a good brother; whether he was a good mate. You hated it when he got this way, desperate to reassure every raging thought troubling his mind and force it away.

Neteyam was perfect, and you just wished he saw himself that way.

A purr sounds against the skin of your neck, rumbling from the chest sat comfortably behind you as he only snuggles in closer, desperate for more contact. The action has you chuckling softly, your mind telling you that it was a good sign if he was purring, that he didn’t want to just succumb to sleep and pretend like the world wasn’t waiting for him.

“What is wrong, my munxta (mate)?” you asked him affectionately, words light so as not to disturb the peace surrounding the two of you. You make sure to continue caressing the top of his head, movements slow to calm his racing heart and bring him back down to earth, slowly lulling him away.

He doesn’t bother lifting his head away from your neck when he speaks, only taking in another waft of your scent for comfort. “I just-” he starts, before sighing deeply, as though trying to summon the correct words that can truly convey his feelings. You feel his body shift impossibly closer to your own, arms wrapped around you only holding on tighter. “It feels like too much sometimes... like I can’t do anything properly...”

His words are so quiet, so vulnerable, they have your heart aching in sympathy. Neteyam should never put himself down, because he has no reason to - but, he doesn’t see himself that way, too caught up in all the negative results of his actions and decisions. This is just how it is when you’re the eldest child within a big family, you guess. “That’s not true, and you know it isn’t,” you insist, slightly shifting your body in his direction, wanting him to recognise the pure sincerity within each of your words, never once detaching your hand from his head as it rubs soothing circles. “I know it can feel like too much sometimes, but you are doing an amazing job - anyone can see that.” As you continue speaking to him, insisting, you start to feel the tenseness of your mate begin to subside. “The clan are so entirely lucky to have you with them, let alone as their next Olo’eyktan.” This time, you decide to make it a little more personal, knowing that’ll only reassure him more. “And, you are always providing for us, for our home, for our future... I really couldn’t ask for a better mate, ma’teyam.”

With one last inhale, rubbing his face against your skin to bask in everything completely you, he gradually lifts his head up, eyes trained directly at your figure. The edges of his lips are starting to curve up, too, a sense of relief floating through you. “Really?” he asks quietly, seeking out every ounce of comfort and encouragement you’re offering.

Tilting your head affectionately, smiling down at him lovingly, you lean forwards, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips that still held a small pout to them. When you pull away, you watch in amusement as he subconsciously leans further for more, eyes closed in a haze. You lean your forehead against his own, basking in the warmth he’s emitting to you, waiting for him to look at you, dazed, before speaking. “Really.”

For a moment, neither of you do anything - neither of you move, neither of you speak. Instead, you fall into one another’s embraces, staring so intently into one another’s gazes you’re sure you can see into the depths of his soul. You don’t want to do anything else but be in this moment with your mate - your perfect mate. From then on, you told yourself you’d always ensure that he knew how helpful he was to every living Na’vi in your clan.

After the silence had enveloped you whole, just the two of your breathing peacefully, you move further away from him, but make sure to stay close. “Now,” you sigh, gesturing your head over to the mat in the corner of your tent, “why don’t you go and rest while I finish up our dinner? You’ve had a long day out hunting - it’s the least I can do.”

But, despite loving the way you want to provide for him, he can’t let that happen. He shakes his head, adamant, sitting up straighter and finally coming back to life, showing off the real Neteyam again. “No, no. I want to help.”

“Neteyam,” you urge, doing your best to perceive yourself as stern as possible. You can tell instantly by the amused look on his face that it isn’t working the way you had hoped. “It is fine, go and rest-”

“No,” he continues shaking his head, almost playful now, although you can still see the seriousness in his features. “I am not taking no for an answer.”

You’re practically whining now, wishing for once in his life that he’d let you do something for him. Practically since you had met him, since he started to court you, Neteyam had done everything for you, and whilst you loved it, whilst you adored every action he took with the thought of you in his mind, you wanted the roles to be reversed sometimes, even just once. But, he was unwavering, stating that he loved to take care of you in every way possible, that as your mate, it was his job. Somehow, he didn’t understand that it worked the same way, too. “Neteyam-”

You didn’t know what you were going to say, how you were going to convince him to just give in, but you don’t even have a slight chance of trying anything when he cuts you off with a kiss. His lips meet yours, tender and soft, but there’s undying passion left within the action. It has your heart stuttering in its beats, mind foggy until you’ve completely forgotten what you were arguing for in the first place. You can feel your cheeks start to get flustered, no doubt the colour of your skin starting to darken. You both love and hate that he can have you acting like this - stuttering and speechless - just from a simple kiss.

When your eyes flutter open, you find Neteyam already watching you. “If you keep disagreeing with me, I’ll keep doing that.” His words are soft-spoken, barely a whisper, and they flutter onto you, sending bumps along your skin, drowning in his sensations. There’s a smug smile present on his lips, cocky - he knows he’ll win this one.

Your words are just a whisper when you speak, too drunk on wholly him. “Don’t tempt me.”

There’s still a hint of amusement lingering within your voice that Neteyam catches onto quickly, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your actions. The sound of his voice, of his happiness, only has you basking in it, too, joining in with his laughing and relishing in these moments the two of you shared.

As you give in, allowing Neteyam to help you prepare your dinner, sitting side by side and stealing not-so-subtle glances to one another, you can’t help but feel quite proud of yourself. Neteyam had come home, slightly grumpy and annoyed, and now here he is, all wide smiles until your cheeks hurt and helping his mate with dinner. It’s happened like this before, but it was nice to feel like a good mate from time to time, helping and comforting him when he only needed you the most.

That night, as the two of you finally lie on your mat, ready for sleep to take over your senses, you can tell Neteyam isn’t all that comfortable - he’s turning from one side to the other, fidgeting in place like he doesn’t really know what to do. When you question him on it, confused as to why he’s acting such a way when you previously believed he was feeling a lot better now, his only response was his puppy eyes. That’s when you knew - and instantly, you moved into action, wiggling yourself higher on the mat so you were looking down at him, opening your arms wide in a welcoming invitation. Eagerly, he let himself fall into your embrace, his arms circling around your waist, whilst yours went around his shoulders, his head sat comfortably upon her chest and tucked under your chin.

It wasn’t often Neteyam wanted to be in this position when you fell asleep, but when he did, you loved it.

With one last look down at him, not caring if it was so painfully obvious, eyes raking over his entire figure and drinking him in entirely, the butterflies began to swarm in your stomach like they always do. He was so beautiful, so enchanting, and so caring - you’d do anything for your mate whenever he called for you, because Neteyam Sully simply deserved the world.

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader

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shattersstar · 1 year

Text

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

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izuhan · 1 year

Text

what would he call you? ︱stray kids

pairing: boyfried!skz x gn!reader ︱ genre: fluff ︱warning: may contain grammar mistakes, not proofread, seungmin give me a chance

a/n: a small one ive kept for a long time heheh (an excuse to write my brainrot minho saying darling n being called seungmin's the love of his life) tysm again for all the kind words!! i wont shut up about it ily yall so much and seungmin, please give me a chance. I'm suffering I love them so much I can't my heart hurts help

⸝⸝bang chan♡ᵎ

— he would call you many things to tease you, upon your behavior, the way you make him crazy, the way you look which made him fall in love all over again.

— however, my/love, baby, darling, sometimes dearest, would have that lovely taste left in his mouth, tongue rolling smoothly on those endearments that has you both flushing with embarrassment.

— the first time he called you “baby” was after you two started dating, he had to capture you before you could run away from him and suffer alone, let your heart swell with happiness. “please don't run away, don't you like it, baby?”

⸝⸝lee know♡ᵎ

— everybody knows he’s a tease, much more than anyone could be, so, endearment for his lover isn’t out of the question, especially if he’s enamored of you.

— though as much as he wants to keep such things to himself, he would blurt out–“Darling,” and question you after about it. His eyebrows would raise, debated between repeating himself and giving up.

— “is it the end of the world if i call you something? Chan calls you his tiny helper.”

— darling, babe, and cutie would stick to him the most because that's where he gets to see most of your reaction, whether making love or on a daily basis.

— love, would come around sometimes during heavy arguments or when he feels like his “love” needs to be addressed and cared for reaching for your folded arms when doubt comes in between, “the most i care for is you, love, i love you.”

⸝⸝changbin♡ᵎ

— he might have gone through plenty of nicknames to find the one he likes the most—baby, cutie-pie, honey, and angel would tickle his heart the most.

— angel and honey would be at the very top, simply because he thinks they're sweet and suits you.

— he's pretty confident with it too, whether you complain about it or not, they just remind him of you

— would absolutely love to annoy you during moments he knew you need him most, specifically moments where he feels proud of you most, the ones he knew took most of your energy and knows a simple “my cutie angel, you did so well today~” accompanied with the warmest hug ever.

⸝⸝hyunjin♡ᵎ

— most likely he'd find and test endearments he'd found in the book that he read.

— “could it be that the blossom that fell in the palm of my hand, is this one that i love most?” he would say after he’s done flipping pages, loving eyes now laid upon and staring at yours while his hand cups your cheeks,

— love, blossom, angel, and baby would be a good list because he has a lot, whenever he feels like it.

— though, I feel like love and angel would be at the top of his list too. main reasons are; he feels so loved and all giddy whenever you respond to him, call him the sweetest things back as he calls you “love” and he feels like he's holding a divine creature— an angel in disguise.

⸝⸝han♡ᵎ

— of course, “baby” would come out of his mouth a lot, however, experimenting with calling you different ones would ensue.

— he might feel frustrated trying so hard to find one that feels natural the same way “baby” does. It didn't matter whether you tell him it was alright to not call you anything else but what he can. Though he would likely sulk at that, since he’s been teased by others that baby is now outdated, he needs to call you differently.

— and once he did find some, he might come to the point of too much embarrassment he would just bury his face in the crook of your neck, stuttering “l-love.” and “m-my y/n”. He’s holding for dear life he could cry and you’d respond to him by calling him that too, holding him gently since he’s too adorable for his own good.

⸝⸝felix♡ᵎ

— the one who's both self-conscious and too natural with it. he'd call you cute nicknames every single time you meet and save the special ones at home only.

— “My sunshine! You look so cute!” would be his go-to ‘let the others know I call you that all the time.’ nickname so whenever someone asks you, it would be “Hey, you're Felix's ‘sunshine’ or was it ‘darling’.. right?”

— at home, it would battle between baby, love, or baby love, and darling. you would react to it differently, which is what he expected so he'll be taking that as a win.

— exhibit a. He would come out of the shower, dripping wet from his hair, and walk towards your shared room where you would be seen drowning in one of his clothes. Felix would lean by the doorframe, whisking water in your direction, and say, “i have arrived darling, won't you come about and help me dry my hair?” and he would soon be defeated by the warmth of the blow dryer, “baby love, im sorry about… that, i have no idea what came into me.”

⸝⸝seungmin♡ᵎ

— he teases a lot too, calling you playful names to piss you off, or have you be a flustered tomato face and run away from him or remain still, processing what he had just called you.

— “what? would it kill you if I call you ‘the love of my life’?” surprised would be an understatement.

— he asks for you to others by that on purpose too— “hey, have you seen ‘my beloved’ y/n?” —just to see how much you hate or love it until it's something he would have to cut off to my/love, beloved, baby, and sweet thing.

— he would want to just play it off with a sprinkle of sincerity and curiosity before it turns into an undying habit, though, it does eventually. He would still deny it has now become that, rolling his eyes with a laugh, “does that guarantee my love for you or is it something mandatory for me to do in hopes of saving your hopeless heart?”

(yes)

⸝⸝i.n♡ᵎ

— it would come off as a test—“Hey sweet thing, whatchu watchin'?”

— once he realizes that or reflects on it, he would sink in wherever he was, including your lap.

— “love is too much, I want to call you mine.”

— and again, he would melt, but tries again, “baby, turn it down.” all of them, failure or success could be the death of you, specifically when you notice he's trying to hide his blushing cheeks and smile by turning his back on you or with his hands.

— it wasn’t obvious in his past attempts, he would look away while you try to breathe. But one time “comfort me baby” came out of his mouth, both of you remained still, your cheeks beet red and Jeongin, his huge hands on his face as he let gravity do its thing when he fell on your body, letting out a very loud screech, “Innie, it’s o—” “no it’s not! I practiced!” and he will never leave your arms until he succeeds on satisfying himself with how it comes out of his mouth.

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boydepartment · 3 months

Note

can i request a comfort fic? i jus got bodyshamed cuz like im kinda skinny and im not in the best mood. Ni-Ki from enhypen pls :((

cold- nishimura riki x reader

a/n: usually i am not this specific with comfort fics however, i have experience going through this and i can write this properly. since i know how this feels first hand i can write this confidently. with comfort fics i really try my hardest to bring comfort and sometimes specific scenarios like this can get a little sticky. i really hope this helps you and i hope you’re okay. ive been body shamed many times throughout my life for being too big and too small, so i understand. lmk if you need anything anon my inbox is always open to you <3

warnings- angst to comfort, reader being body shamed, talk about difficultly to gain weight, talk about mental health, riki being kind. skinny reader.

wc- 300-500

MASTERLIST

your body laid curled up in your blankets, and tangled in your layered clothing. it was colder weather and to everyone else doing this would be pretty standard practice given the circumstances.

regardless of that fact, your main reason to bundle up was not due to the cold.

you were always cold, that was something you could put up with.

what you couldn’t put up with was the sly comments people would make about you unprovoked. even if provoked the comments that were made about you previously were extremely messed up and damaging.

you felt yourself sigh, you knew it was okay to be sensitive to this, it was human. but it really did hurt, there was no reason for anyone to comment on anyone’s body for ANY reason. however people thought they could with you. your friends thought they could with you.

you flipped over not hearing your boyfriend arrive at your home, he was supposed to come over today but you had texted him to cancel because you ‘weren’t feeling well.’ anymore. you didn’t think he would be coming over.

“you cold my love?” you heard a chuckle and you just hummed back. not in the mood for his games. and not in the mood to even become startled that he was in your home.

“i’m sorry were you asleep?” riki’s voice was soft as he walked over to the couch and laid down next to you. your body tensed up and he noticed this.

it made him scared he did something wrong.

“are you okay?” he asked, wanting to put his hand on your head and gently pat. but opting not to, not wanting to make you more uncomfortable than what he was reading from your face.

“i texted you saying i wasn’t feeling well…” you mumbled behind your blanket.

riki frowned, “i’m sorry… do you want or need anything? i didn’t see my texts otherwise i would’ve stopped by and picked you up something warm to drink.” you felt him get under the blanket, you felt yourself become nervous.

quickly you flipped over, your back facing him and you curled up a bit. taking some of the blanket with you.

he went to snake his hands around your waist as he was used to do but you panicked and moved his hands away, “don’t, please…”

the comments about you being too thin were getting to you and you didn’t want riki to even touch your body. the fear setting in that he was going to feel a rough edge or a part of your body where you were more bony than not. you were scared it was going to disgust him or freak him out. your friends were hard to believe that your boyfriend genuinely liked holding you. you could still hear their comments.

riki felt his mouth open a bit in shock, “did i do something?”

this hurt you more, he didn’t do anything, you felt like you did something wrong.

“no… i just- i don’t feel well.” your voice was wavering and it was making you stressed, if you even thought to rub your eyes you’d have to see your hands. you didn’t want to see any part of your body right now. you felt trapped, almost like you wanted to rip your skin off and just start over.

“what’s wrong… y/n please… communication is really important especially since we’re young… i don’t want to fuck this up please…” at this point riki was begging you to say something. he was stressed that he did something to you that he didn’t mean. riki couldn’t recall anything that he did. i mean he accidentally ripped your favorite pillow while you two were play fighting last week but you were laughing when the stuffing started going everywhere.

you flipped over, not wanting to torture him, “you didn’t do anything. i just went back to visit some friends and they made comments about my body.” your voice was shaky, almost panicking. because this is where a lot of people would say-

‘you’re thin why would it matter?’

‘people wish they had your body.’

‘you should be thankful that’s what they’re saying.’

you had experience of people saying that to you when you felt insecure of the bonier parts of your body. you learned quickly to suck it up, but it still hurt. and you constantly tried to gain weight. it was a difficult battle, you want to do it healthily however it’s a slow process that’s not even promised.

you couldn’t help your body and it was too taboo to share your insecurities. that’s what you learned that’s what you became accustomed to. it stung even more that people commented on your body now even without you saying something first. you felt violated.

riki felt his brows contort, he was rightfully pissed, “what were they saying?” he tried to find your hands under the blanket and did. for the first time in awhile, they were warm. you let him hold a small part of you and that relaxed him.

“i don’t want to talk about it anymore…” you mumbled more into the blanket, scared of what he was going to say. scared that if you opened up more, he’d try to hold you. that he was going to hate holding you, or finding it a chore.

“no one should be making comments on your body like that. whatever they said- clearly it effected you… and no one has the right to comment on your body. was what they were saying unprompted?” his voice was soft but firm. wanting to listen to what happened. wanting to comfort you properly.

“yes… it was unprompted and i froze up… i didn’t know how to respond to what they were saying.”

because genuinely how the fuck were you supposed to respond?

riki breathed in angrily, he was trying to properly calculate the situation and how to answer. he didn’t want to mess up or accidentally say something that could hurt you more, “i would take a break from them for a bit… maybe if you’re comfortable communicate how-“

“NO.” you practically jumped up, “they’re just going to tell me i shouldn’t be complaining and they’re totally gonna blow me off like my feelings don’t matter!”

riki’s eyes widened as he watched you settle back down, his hand rubbing yours gently, like you’d break, “okay my love… then you don’t have to… then i would just give myself a break from them okay? i’m not trying to sound like i’m isolating you either but you know your feelings matter to me. you matter to me. i will always listen…”

you nodded, he felt his heart breaking a bit when he saw a tear fall from your face. riki quickly used one of his hands to wipe your tears. you put your face more into his palm.

“when you hold me… does it bother you?” your voice was quiet, “like do i hurt you or do you feel uncomfortable?”

what the fuck did they say to you? that was the only thing that was going through riki’s head but he was smart enough to pick out the hints and signs. that was enough for him.

your friends must’ve pointed out how thin you are, he remembered you trying to gain weight and struggling to. he remembered that specific mental breakdown you had and felt so mad that your friends would just say things without thinking.

“you never bother me…” carefully he finally pulled you closer to him and held you, “my favorite thing to do is be around you and hold you… that’s not going to change okay? no matter what.”

you nodded, “i’m sorry… i didn’t mean to shut you out i was just scared… and i didn’t want you to think i was weird for getting upset about this.”

riki shook his head no, “don’t be scared to talk to me especially about stuff like this, i understand everything okay? so please don’t be scared. i know how it feels and im always going to be here to help you.”

“thank you…” you held him closer to you, riki’s hand going to your head and patting softly. his embrace was warm and you were comfortably wrapped in the blankets together. the cold weather long forgotten, the cold, harsh words that were said to you were slowly being healed, and you were starting to feel content. riki felt you relax and finally relaxed himself. he was always going to be here to help, because he loves you. those cold words people said to you weren’t going to change anything, whether you told him the specific words or not.

he loves you.

“i love you… thank you again…” your breathing was starting to slow, you were starting to fall asleep now that the war in your head was starting to die down.

“i love you more…”

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #the party #steve harrington has good parents for once!!!#and they're about to fuck shit up!!!#ficlet #request

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for suggesting that my friend (A) NOT focus so much money into her little brother's (B) top surgery?

their family, while not toxic or abusive, is a little more close (or enmeshed?) than i ever was with mine. and thats great! it works for them and i love how much they care for each other. but A is 25 and married, significantly in debt, has a kid (on purpose) and her husband hasnt earned that much in the years since he went straight from high school to the work force. he now has a job getting like 25-30 an hour i think, but still thats not a lot for their situation. she had a salaried job (about 30k/year) but it wasnt working for her and she decided to quit. which i totally support, the position wasnt great for her and she wasnt great for the position. if she hadnt quit, she woulda been let go. she's looking for new jobs now.

anyway, all this to say, they are NOT flush with cash. and yet, every penny they have left after basic needs is being put toward B's top surgery- before even paying down their debt.

i especially want to know if i'm the asshole in a transphobic sense, because part of my reasoning is that B is a super skinny kid, and only 15 years old. he has an A cup at most. and the family had to jump through a million hoops to get permission or whatever for him to get his top surgery as gender affirming care.

i've brought up the idea that maybe B waits till he's 18 and gets it as an elective/cosmetic procedure, because the cost will be about the same to do that versus to get it as gender-affirming care under insurance. and that gives B time to save up his own money, and his family more time to organize their finances and contribute their parts. but A never seems to give a direct answer for why their family is so set on B getting his surgery before he's 18. of course i believe he should be allowed to by law and he shouldn't have has to go through so much trouble.

but B works summers only, at a low-paying job (ive worked the same job when i was a teen, it isnt enough to save up much) and is depending on his family for all this, even though his sister (A) and parents are all in rough spots financially. A just seems so stressed about money and i wonder if i'm the asshole for thinking she should just focus on her and her little immediate family for a while till theyre back on their feet. its noble and caring to be so invested in B getting the care he needs, but it's hurting A's finances, mental health, and family stress levels.

of course at the end of the day, it's none of my business. i'm A's friend, not life coach or money manager or anything else. i'm just curious what the aita voters think about all this. if i were to push the issue and make suggestions, would i be the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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darkwolf989 · 2 months

Text

Outside the Office Part Seven

Hi All,

No trigger warnings for this one, but definitely mature content. I love the feedback I've been getting- I'm thrilled everyone is enjoying this series! As always, feedback is appreciated! Enjoy!

When I woke up, I found Valentino asleep, his arm wrapped around me protectively. His heart shaped glasses were folded neatly on the nightstand next to us. In all the time we had spent together, I had never seen Val actually sleep. I laid my head on his chest, listening to the steady ins and outs of his breathing as I slowly woke up. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, willing myself to stay awake.

It was at that moment I noticed the bloodstains on his hands and clothes. I sat up and frantically ran my hand over the parts of him I could reach, searching for a source of the blood. Was he hurt? I ran my hands down his chest, unable to find its origon.

“Mi amore. Awake already?” he asked sleepily, adjusting his position ever so slightly.

“You’re bleeding.” I ran my hand over his neck, trying to calm the panic that was so prevalent in my voice. “You’re hurt.”

That woke him up. His fingers interlaced with mine and he pushed us both upright, looking down. Pain shot through me, but I ignored it. Val was hurt. He checked himself over and after a few moments, he shook his head.

“Not mine princessa. Yours, most likely. From yesterday. I need a shower and you…” he saw my pained expression. “Need another round of pain medication. And food.” He gently moved me against the pillows. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He vanished into the bathroom and reappeared a few moments later. He snapped on a pair of blue gloves before he reached over and carefully disconnected the IV line. From his pocket, he pulled two vials and an alcohol wipe packet. .

“One to flush, one for pain.” He took my arm in his hand and ran the wipe over the entryway. “It might burn princessa. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be high.” I said, yanking my arm away. “No, Val. I don’t like that feeling. Please.”

“You won’t be.” He said soothingly. “The doctor gave you another non narcotic. Just like last night. Once it’s in you, I’ll take the whole IV out. I promise. Let me know when you’re ready.” He waited for me to answer.

“I…trust you.” I said softly, moving back closer to him.

He kissed my forehead. “That’s my girl.”

I grimaced as the first round of liquid flooded into my veins. He uncapped the second vial and slowly pushed it into my body.

“I don’t feel any…ah!” The tightness in the back of my head released and the pain erased itself.

“Supplier of highs and releases,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. He carefully slid the IV out of my arm, taping the gauze over the pinprick of damage it left behind. “Do you feel okay?”

“I don’t feel pain, if that’s what you're asking.” I said slowly. “Lucifer wasn’t kidding when he said medicine in hell is far more advanced than what angels have. All we have for stuff like this is…well, more akin to what those demons gave me last night.”

Valentino grimaced. “Princessa, I can’t…even begin to imagine.” He sighed and gently leaned over and kissed me. “I told you the medicine wouldn't affect your brain. I made a promise to answer your questions today, and you promised the same. You can’t be hazy for that. But you do need to eat first. Come on, let’s go see what Vox made for breakfast.”

He stood up and lifted me into his arms, carrying me out to the living room couch. “Vox? Vel?" He called out across the room. "One of you, keep an eye on her. I need a shower and I don’t want to leave her by herself.”

“You’re being overprotective.” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He laid me down on the couch and kissed my forehead.

“And I have every right to be overprotective, princessa. Do you disagree?”

I didn’t. The feeling of love and safety that wrapped around me the moment he touched me was incomparable to anything else. I craved it, more than anything. I watched as he walked away, settling myself against the pillows.

Velvette looked over at me from her place on the couch and did a double take. “Fuck. You look even worse this morning.”

I heard Valentino yell from down the hall, his voice loud and laced with annoyance. “Don’t fuck with her Vel, or I’ll fuck you up.”

She puffed up and hollered back. “I’m not fucking with her, its the truth.” She paused and I watched her swing herself up and march down the hallway towards his room. I heard Valentino curse and she walked out a few moments later, a box in her hand. She marched over to the elevator.

“I’ll be right back.”

I watched her disappear downstairs and looked at Vox. He shrugged in response.

“Does it hurt to chew?" He asked, walking over next to me. "I made soup if it does. If not, I have waffles and scrambled eggs- with cheese. Both should be soft enough for you to eat.”

“I don’t feel any pain.” I said, pushing myself up. “But I’m not hungry either.”

“So waffles and eggs it is. Got it.” He disappeared into the kitchen and came out a moment later with a plate, handing it to me. “Come on, you have to eat. It's yummy, I promise."

“I’m really not all that hungry, Vox. And it has nothing to do with your cooking.” I responded, pushing away the proffered plate. “My stomach’s just off.”

He sat down next to me on the couch, setting my plate on the coffee table in front of him. He was quiet for a moment, and he picked up the fork and cut a small piece of the waffle, sticking it with the fork. “Your belly is off because you haven’t eaten anything in the last fourteen or so hours. Come on. You’re not going to feel any better if you don’t give your body what it needs.”

“I told you, I’m not…”

“And the train goes in the tunnel.” Vox sang sarcastically as he stuck the fork in my mouth. “Chew. Swallow. Food goes into our tummies and makes us feel better!” His one eye began to swirl. “Eat.”

I did as he commanded but glared at him once I had swallowed the bite. “Stop being a jerk, I am not a child.”

“Oh? Could have fooled me because grow ups understand the importance of feeding our bodies. So much like a five year old, I’m giving you a choice. Either I can feed you, bite by bite, or you can feed yourself. But you need something in your stomach. End of discussion.” His voice turned softer. “You’ll heal faster and feed better. You need to eat, reader.”

I glared but realized I wasn't going to win this one. I took the plate and fork from him. He wasn’t wrong, after the first delicious bite my hunger returned. “Okay fine but don’t do that again. I mean it, I’m not helpless and I’m not a child.””

“And I don’t have a Daddy kink, so if you do what you need to do, I don’t have to treat you like a child.” He paused. “Trust me, if I wanted to play Daddy I would borrow one of Val’s whor- er, employees and make some money.”

“What does that even mean?”

Vox reached over and patted my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just get as much down as you can manage. I’m going to go make another batch, yell if you need me.”

He walked away as I ate, scrolling through my phone as I worked my way through breakfast. A few minutes later, my plate was empty. I set it on the table and uncapped the Sweet Sixteen that Vox had left for me, sipping it as I made myself as comfortable as I could.

Vox walked over to me just as I finished the drink. He looked me over and grinned. “You can’t tell me your stomach doesn’t feel better now that you’ve fed it. Your color is back.” He paused. “Did Val take your temperature this morning?”

I shook my head no.

“He should have. Com’ere let me feel your forehead.” The back of his hand pressed against my skin. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. No fever. No fever usually means no infection brewing. I’ll let Lucifer know.”

“Is he coming today?” I asked. “I thought I might see him this morning.”

Vox shook his head. “Not unless you want him to come. He called earlier to check in on you but you were still sleeping. He said he’d try to video call with you later but if you could text him and let him know you’re alive I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to Lucifer. He responded back right away.

You’re sure you're okay?

More than okay, Uncle Lucy. Promise.

Alright. I’ll try to call later but no promises. Things are rough out here. Glad you’re staying with the V’s. Be safe, and rest.

Across the room, the elevator door opened up and I looked up. Velvette sashayed across the room and plopped down on the couch next to me.

“Find what you need?” I asked, turning the screen on my phone off.

She pushed my empty plate across the table and set several bags and boxes next to us. “I did. Mind if I touch? Your face, I mean.”

“My face?” I asked as she tilted her head to one side, studying me. “I guess, sure.”

“Excellent.” She brushed my hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. “Mind if I play a bit? See what I can do to help you get cleaned up? You’ll feel better if you look better.”

“She doesn’t look bad.” Valentino’s voice drifted down the hallway. He walked over to us and leaned over the back of the couch. He pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Be nice. She’ll heal up.”

“Oh will you shut up? There is no hiding that she’s beat to shit. And if she looks in the mirror and sees it, well that won’t do much for healing now will it? You feel better if you look better.” Velvette shot back.

Valentino shrugged, apparently unbothered by Velvette’s snap. “As long as she’s fine with it, that’s all that matters. Vox, is there food left? I’m starving.” He turned to me. “Babe. Did you eat?”

“Vox made me.” I grumbled as Velvette lightly touched my skin.

“And do you feel better now that I did?” Vox prompted, flopping on the couch across from me.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then I stand by my decision. You gotta eat, that's the first lesson you learned upon your arrival to hell.”

“Speaking of arrival to hell…” Valentino sat next to Vox, directly across from me. “Care to explain why you told us last night that you’ve been beaten worse than this? Because this, babydoll, is pretty bad from where I stand.”

“Yeah. I want to know too.” Vox added.

“Agreed.” Velvette added, pausing her makeup to look at me.

I frowned at the three of them. “I told you. My dad raised me- he was the leader of the exorcist army. What exactly do you think my days looked like?”

All three of them stared at me in confusion. I rolled my eyes.

“Guys. It’s the military. Do you not have one in hell? My days started at four am and if I made a mistake, even a tiny one, I was met with corporal punishment- even more so because my father was the head, and he wanted to make sure he set an example. Not to mention some of the exercises themselves were meant to prepare us for our eventual arrival in hell. We underwent all sorts of physical training to ensure that even if the worst happened down here we would not, under any circumstances, betray heaven. And we were taught to fight to survive. To do that, they broke us down to the nitty gritty, and put us through all sorts of…scenarios. It’s what we needed to do to learn to survive.” I paused. “Or at least, that's what they told us.”

I stopped talking and watched them try to process what I had told them. A memory floated up, one I had tried to keep hidden away. Might as well share, maybe it would help them understand.

“Here is a prime example. One time, I was late to the first call. I was supposed to swim laps that morning under the watchful eye of my father. When I turned up late, he ripped into me in front of an entire platoon, told me what an absolute disgrace I was to our family name, and then made me run laps until I puked. Or passed out. I’m not really sure which it was. When I wasn’t physically able to run anymore, he made me spend the day cleaning out the locker rooms. Said it was character building. And I mean, he was right. I was never late for the first call again.”

“I have so many questions,” Vox began slowly. “Like, how old were you, exactly?”

“Oh no. Your turn is over. It’s my turn to ask.” I replied lightly. “Right? The agreement was that you would answer honestly, and so would I.”

Valentino looked ever so slightly annoyed. “Yes. I suppose so. Bear in mind, princessa, that agreement was between you and I. But fine. Ask your question. We can go back and process ... .that later.” He hesitated. “Does Lucifer know about this?”

“I said I’m not answering any more questions. Souls. Soul contracts. How do they work? And what the fuck even is your job, Valentino?”

“That’s two questions. If we answer them both, you have to answer another one as well. Got it?” Velvette interjected, brushing powder on my face. “There. You’re all done. I’ll finish later, when your lips don’t move as much.”

Across from me, Valentino set his empty plate on the table and stood up, walking over to me. I reached for him and he lifted me up, settling me against him and pulling a quilt over us. “You okay, princessa?” He asked with concern in his voice. "You look like you're getting tired."

“I’m fine. Answers. Souls.” I reminded him. “What did I see in that room, Val? What did I walk in on?”

Valentino sighed and thought for a moment. “You saw me at my job. As the boss. Every single one of those demons in that room belongs to me. Is owned by me. Sold their soul to me. I give them everything they are owed in their contract. And make no mistake, they knew exactly what they were getting into when they signed the contract with me. And I am bound by that contract as much as they are.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “Vox. Vel. One of you. Help me out here.”

Vox took a deep breath. “It’s like this. Our power as overlords comes from the souls we own. We acquire souls through the deals we make, deals that become contracts. Not like the little thing Lucifer did to you last night,” he added quickly. “Soul contracts are different from anything you’ve ever experienced. Once a creature signs over their soul, both they and the provider of the contract are fully bound by the terms of the contract until one or both of those parties meets their ultimate demise. Let’s be specific and use Valentino as an example. If a human signs a contract with him, that means they get something- whatever it is they desire in life, in exchange for their eternal soul working for Valentino after death. The specifics of those working conditions are outlined in the contract they both sign. It is Valentino’s responsibility to ensure that the contract is upheld. It’s his job, honey. Slightly different from my job, or Vel’s, but the base idea is the same. We provided a creature something in life in exchange for their soul, and the details of that exchange are specifically outlined in a contract. Both parties sign and are bound.”

“That also being said that until that contract is signed, consent is required in my studio. No one is touched outside the specific terms of their contract,” Valentino added. “The girl they mistook you for- she was in the final process of trading me her soul in exchange for…well, that doesn’t matter really. As part of her repayment, she would work for me. She wanted to be roughed up. But until I had her on stage, under my cameras, she wasn’t to be fucked. I don’t make a profit off of things I don’t own.”

“Who would even sign something like that?” I asked.

“Oh my sweet baby girl. You would be shocked. And there are no loopholes in our contracts, right down to the word “knowingly”. I ensure my deals are made with solid understanding from both parties. We are cruel because we need to be. All of my contracts outline the requirement to be that way." Valentino tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Those who are soft do not make it down here. And princessa, the consequences of me breaking my own contract are far, far worse than upholding it- for both myself and the other parties.” He finished softly. His hand fell to the top of my head, his fingers worked their way through my hair and down my back as he spoke.

“Valentino.” I looked up at him and laid my head on his chest, settling into him. That feeling of safety and security was still as strong as ever. “You were a different person in your studio. I watched you strike someone, you threw your glass. You yelled, you demanded. I’ve never seen you like that. Ever. But you, you’re so gentle to me. And you hold me. And you’re soft, and take care of me. Why is that?"

“Princessa. I am not your boss. I don’t play that part in your life because I don’t own you. You and Vox and Vel, we’re friends.” He bent down and kissed me gently. “Or in our case, more than friends. But my point is, we offer each other an escape- a life outside of work. I don’t need to be harsh to you, and I don’t want to be. Who we are at work is not who we are in our private lives.” His voice softened. “I can be myself around them. Around you.”

“But Vox and Vel, they don’t…they aren't cruel. Not like that.” I protested.

Velvette let out a short laugh, “you’re joking, right?”

Vox shook his head, “oh sweetheart. We are- just not to you. Same reason as Val just said. We don’t own your soul. We don’t own each other's souls. We live and spend time together because we like each other and enjoy each other's company.”

Valentino put his hand on the top of my head. “Think for a moment, princessa. Do you spend your day aside Vox? Or does he put you to work on a laptop, tucked away in a corner while he handles his responsibilities? When you’re in Velvette’s studio, are you next to her- or trying on outfits handed by her employees until she calls you to the stage? I assure you, mi amor- they keep you as shielded from the realities of their job as they possibly can.” Valentino heaved a sigh and ran his thumb over my cheek, brushing away some of the makeup Velvette had dabbed on. “I’m sorry you had to find all this out, sweetheart. I’m sorry you had to see that side of me. Learn that side of us exists.”

“But reader, I cannot stress this enough. You will never see that side of us, not in our home, as much as we can help it. Outside of these four walls, we are overlords. It isn’t just Valentino who plays that role. If you saw any of us in our actual positions, you wouldn’t recognize us.” Velvette added.

Valentino continued to gently stroking my hair. I sank into him. He wrapped his arms around me and settled me against him. “Vox doesn’t let the world know that he makes banana chocolate chip pancakes each Saturday morning- unless I beat him to it. And Velvette certainly doesn’t let anyone other than us know that she needs to be carried to bed after seven drinks.”

“That was rude.” Velvette snorted, glaring at him.

“Shush Vel. It’s true. And to the point, this is our safe place, here and with each other. Outside of the public eye. Our studios are not. From the moment we step inside, we become what we need to be in order to be successful.” Vox explained, leaning back and putting his arm around Velvette, pulling her to him. He planted a kiss on her forehead.

Valentino cupped my chin. “The world doesn’t see the Valentino cradles you until you fall asleep during movie night. That’s not the image the world can see. If they did, we would lose the hold we have over hell. The world is an evil place, princessa. We keep you shielded from it, or at least, we tried.”

Vox pulled a blanket over him and Velvette, mimicking the position Valentino and I were in. “Again, to that point, we very clearly failed. Which leads me to the next thing that needs to be discussed. What is our plan going forward? I, for one, think Lucifer was right.. I think it's about time we started to present reader to the publicly as both one of us, and the princess of hell. It might be stickier for awhile in public, but at least people will know exactly who she is and there will be no more cases of mistaken identity.”

Velvette considered and looked at me. “People won’t touch you if they know you’re a V. I’m all for it.”

I nodded. “That sounds good to me. But how?"

“Tomorrow, I’ll bring you to the studio. Make it very clear that you are not to be touched.” Valentino said firmly, giving me a soft squeeze.

Vox shrugged. “Same, but maybe not tomorrow. Gonna wanna give you time to heal. If you come out in public looking like that, it won’t go over well for anyone.”

Valentino laughed darkly and held me closer. “I’m sure Velvette has full coverage makeup. No, I’m not waiting. I’m not risking this happening again.” He looked down at me. “I want you in the studio tomorrow, at my side. I want to make it explicitly clear that you are one of us.”

“Did anyone think to run this by Lucifer? Before we- you know, out the existence of the Princess of hell?” Velvette asked, snuggling up to Vox. “I mean, I’m all for it. I’ve been dying to have her walk in one of my shows.”

“Of course. It was his idea to begin with.” Vox answered. “He’ll be providing additional protection as well- not that that aspect is any of your concern. I’ll handle it. And, I think he was impressed at the protection we gave her…after the fact.”

“I know I was.” I said softly, looking up at Valentino. “You stood up to Lucifer and he was….scary.”

“And worth it, for you, Princessa.” His fingers interlaced with mine. “I believe we answered your questions, did we not?”

I nodded. “You did.”

“So one more question for you and we will both have answered each other the same amount. Do you agree?”

I looked up at him. “I do. Why?”

“Because this is the last question I have for you for now, mi amor. And then I want you back in bed, resting.” He took a deep breath. “Princessa…are you sure you want to be here? Are you sure, even after the events of last night, that you feel safe with us?” He tilted my chin up to him, looking me in the eye. “You agreed to answer truthfully.”

Vox and Velvette stared at him for a moment.

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Valentino. I am sure I want to be here. You…even with what happened, you make me feel safe. I care about you.” I looked at Vox and Velvette. “All of you.”

“It should go without saying that we feel the same way.” Velvette said. She smiled and looked up at Vox, kissing him on the cheek. “I mean, who else can model AND carry a conversation?”

Vox nodded in agreement. “Of course we do. Outside the three of us, you’re the first one we’ve ever let into this space. Honestly, it would be weird if you weren't here at this point.”

“So it’s settled, I can stay?” I asked Valentino.

He looked pained. “You misunderstood me. There was never a question of could. It was a question of want. Do you want to stay?”

“Yes.” I said firmly. “I don’t think I can make my stance any clearer than that.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into him.

He kissed me gently, running his hands down my back. “Mi amor, you have no idea how happy I am at your answer. I’m taking you back to bed now. You need rest if you want to heal quickly.” He stood up, cradling my body to his as he turned to walk me down the hallway.

“Oh, Val? We’re working from home today. So if you need to go in…” Vox called from behind us. “We’ll make sure she’s well looked after.”

Valentino paused, his grip on me tightening. “I do, but not right now. She’s my number one priority at the moment. Maybe after she goes to sleep.”

I buried my face deeper into him at the thought of him leaving. He ran a hand down my back and carried me into my bedroom, setting me down on the bed. The medication had begun to wear off and the bruises were once again making themselves known. I knew from prior experiences I needed a hot shower and a round of anti inflammatories before the pain became unbearable.

I expressed this to Valentino. He frowned at my words.

“Princessa. I don’t…I don’t feel comfortable with you being by yourself for any period of time. Not right now.” He hesitated. “I suppose I could wait outside the door while you shower, but…”

“What if you just joined me?” I suggested.

He looked at me. “Princessa?”

“You’ve seen me naked yesterday, and probably before that. Fuck,Vox and half the world has probably seen me without clothes at this point. After yesterday, what does it matter?” I sank into the pillows. “And besides Val, if I could have any say over who gets to see me like that…I would prefer it to be you. Only you. Every time.”

“It matters to me because it matters to you.” Valentino said firmly. “And so you’re aware, other than Vox, no other person in that studio who saw you yesterday is breathing today. It was a direct violation of their consent clause- whether they knew it or not.”

I stared at him. “You killed them…even though they didn’t know they violated their contract?”

“It’s in the language.” Valentino gently cupped my chin. “Remember, I have an agreement I have to follow as well.” He leaned in and kissed me. “Princessa, if you’re sure, I would appreciate being by your side.” He helped me to my feet. “Preferably, right by your side.”

“Valentino, are you actually going to shower with me?” I teased.

He kissed me lightly. “Only because you asked, Princessa. And of course, to keep you safe.” He lifted me up and carried me to the bathroom, setting me on the counter. He reached into the shower and turned it on. He rummaged through a drawer and came up with a bottle of ibuprofen. I watched as he pulled a paper cup from the dispenser and filled it up with water. He handed me two pills and the cup. "Here. Swallow these. If you're still in pain after your nap and want a bath, I’ll run one.” He nodded towards the bathtub on the other side of the bathroom. “Maybe an Epsom salt bath if that sounds good to you."

“Mm, yeah. That could help.” I swallowed the medication and set aside the cup. Once that was out of the way, I reached for his shirt and gently tugged at it. "This needs to come off."

He smiled, “alright, babydoll. Settle down.”

“What? Val- you’ve seen me naked, wouldn’t you agree it’s only fair that I get to see you without clothes?”

That elicited a laugh. “Oh Princessa. You make a compelling argument.” He leaned in and kissed me before pulling off his shirt.

I took a moment to admire his body. I had seen glimpses of it before of course, moments when Velvette was adjusting buttons or other parts of fabric in the limo. And of course I felt it- rock hard body pressed against me when we snuggled. But this was the first time I had seen him fully shirtless. To say he was gorgeous was an understatement. Every muscle was perfectly sculpted, lean and perfectly put together. His jeans fell just below his hips, hugging every curve of his body.

“Like what you see, princessa?” He teased lightly, leaning in and kissing me.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn't.” I said softly. “Damn, Val.”

He laughed again and undid the top snap of his jeans. “Ah, mi amor..” He leaned in and kissed me again, the rest of his clothing falling to the floor. He leaned in closer, obscuring my view of anything below the waist. “My turn to undress you.”

He pulled his tee shirt off my body, tossing it into the dirty laundry. Carefully, he tugged off my pajama bottoms and they joined his shirt in the hamper. He lifted me up and carried me into the shower.

I hissed as the hot water hit my skin. He turned his back to the water, protecting me from its sting.

“I’m going to set you down. Just lean on me, alright?”

“I can walk Val. I’m not…completely broken.” I said as he set me down, his hands on my waist as he made sure I was stable.

He tilted my chin up and kissed me softly, the steam building around us. “I know, princessa. Something tells me you would be…difficult to break.” He pulled me to him and gently guided me back under the water. “Come now, let’s get those muscles to relax.”

I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest as he gently rubbed my shoulders under the running water. I felt the warmth wash over my body. Under my head, he exhaled slowly, as if he was trying to control his breathing.

“Princessa.” He muttered, leaning back, both hands on my shoulders as his eyes studied my body. Somewhere in my brain I wanted to be embarrassed, to hide under his gaze. But for the first time, I felt comfortable being totally exposed to him. Somewhere in my belly, I felt something stir. I had felt it before, but standing next to him, against him, the feeling was stronger.

“Valentino.” I pressed my body into him. The pain I had begun to feel erased itself under the heat. “I have another question.”

“What is it princessa?” He leaned down and kissed me. “Ask away.”

“Does it hurt?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Does what hurt, princessa?” he asked with confusion and concern.

“What you do in the studio. Sex. I want to know. Is it supposed to hurt that bad?”

A horrified expression crossed his face. “Mi amore, no,” he said quickly. He shook his head and stepped forward and pulled me close to him, stepping his own body under the stream of warm water. “No. It doesn’t have to. Some enjoy the pain, the feeling of surrendering their entire body to another. They enjoy the punishment, the degradation. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It can be soft, gentle. Pleasurable in ways you never thought possible.”

“Show me.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then quickly pulled me to him, his lips pressing against mine. Any lingering pain vanished, replaced with a different feeling- a warmness spreading deep in my belly. I wanted him. Just him. All of him.

“You need to tell me if it hurts," he said as his hand ran down my thigh. “I need to know what feels good- and what causes you pain.” He leaned into me, pressing my back against the wall of the shower. I felt his finger slip inside me, then another. I let out an involuntary moan. He ran his thumb over my clit, drawing circles around the sensitive skin. I arched my back.

An explosion of nerves as his body pressed deeper into mine. I moaned, leaning into him, digging my nails into him as I tried to balance myself against the pleasure. “Valentino!”

“That’s right baby.” He pressed his lips against mine. “Come for me, my princessa.” His fingers moved faster, his kisses growing more and more rapid.

My stomach knotted as warmness spread through me, my vision flashing black as I felt an explosion in my belly, an explosion I had never felt before. I panted as the feeling of euphoria spread through every inch of my body., rendering me absolutely helpless. I felt his fingers slide out as I leaned my entire weight onto him. Against his thigh, I felt his cock twitch.

“Sex is fun, princessa. When you’re with the right person.” He whispered, holding me to him. “That’s my girl. Breathe.” I could see his conflicted expression as his eyes ran over me. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ve got you. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up so we can get you to bed.”

Balancing me against him, I felt him lather both of us in soap. He guided me under the water, rinsing us off before running a hand through my hair. He took a bottle of my shampoo and gently squeezed some in his hand.

“Close your eyes. I don’t want to get soap in them.” He ordered gently.

I did as he instructed, gripping onto him as the overload of my release slowly dissipated. By the time I was rinsed off and wrapped in a towel, propped back up on the bathroom counter, I felt like I could breathe again.

“Did you enjoy that, princessa?” He asked with concern, wrapping himself in a towel. “You’re quiet.”

“Val, that was…amazing.” I said softly, reaching for him. My body ached for more, hindered only by the pain I was very much starting to feel. “I want you. All of you.”

He took a deep breath as he surveyed my body. After a few seconds, he exhaled. “And you can have me. I promise. But not tonight. I’ll shatter you into a thousand pieces, mi amor. Especially, especially if it's your first time.” He pressed his lips to mine. “Your first time will be special. I promise. But you need to wait.”

I let out the most uncharacteristic whine. “But Val. I want you. Every single inch of you. And I’ve never felt this way before. Not ever. Please.”

“Another day, princessa. I want you too. Every inch of you.” His body pressed into mine and I could hear the struggle in his voice. “Waiting is testing every single fucking bit of my self control. But I need you to be okay afterwards, and right now I don’t think you will be. You’re still hurt, mi amor.” He leaned forward and kissed me, his breathing almost ragged. “I wouldn’t wait if I didn’t have to. Believe me. You’ve now officially seen me at my worst- and at my best. And gotten into the thick of everything I do in the worst possible way. And you still want me. Reach for me. Want me to hold you and be by your side. Princessa, my love, my heart. I will not rush what should be a magical night simply because I want you right here and right now. So please. Let me help you get dressed and come lay with me. The sooner you heal, the sooner the pain leaves you the sooner I can show you exactly what it means to be loved by someone as intensely as I love you.”

He wrapped me in his arms and against his chest, I could hear the frantic beating of his heart. His hand fell down the small of my back and looked up at him, pushing myself up to kiss his lips. Inside my chest, my heart soared. He did love me.

“Okay Val. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Until you think I’m ready.” I looked up at him. “I love you too.”

He held me tighter, kissing the top of my head. He let out another slow exhale. “I love you more than you could ever know.” He hesitated and ran a hand over my cheek. “I need to get dressed and get to work. And you need to get in bed.”

I took a comb from the holder on the counter and began to work through the knots in my hair as I watched him yank his tee shirt over his head, and then reach for his jeans. I frowned as he stepped into them. “Wait, why are you putting your jeans back on? I thought you said we were taking a nap.”

He took the brush from my hand, smoothing out either side of my hair as he carefully worked his way through the knots. “No. I said you need to rest. I need to work, and I’m going to work from home as long as I possibly can. But if I put my sweatpants on, snuggle you next to me and lay down in bed I’ll fall asleep right besides you. But I can’t sleep in jeans- I just can’t do it. Hopefully between them and my laptop I can get enough done today that I don’t have to physically go into my office. And you can still rest, right next to me where I can keep an eye on you.” He set the comb down and reached for the mirror and wiped away the steam, picking up his heart shaped glasses and adjusting them on his face. “There.”

I turned and caught sight of myself in the mirror. The deep blues and blacks of yesterday stood out starkly against my pale skin. I frowned at my reflection. The shower seemed to have brought out even darker colors.

Valentino saw me looking and quickly lifted me up off the counter, pulling one of his clean shirts over my head before lifting me up and carrying me to bed. One hand holding me, the other tossing pillows against the headboard. He sat down, adjusting me so that I was snug against him before reaching for his phone, laptop, and headset. I watched him open the laptop screen and hit the startup button.

“You should sleep.” He told me, running his fingers through my damp hair. “I’m just going to be working, and you can’t heal that pretty face without rest.”

“Pretty isn’t the word I’d use.” I mumbled, more to myself than to him. “I look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” He reached down and tilted my head up so our eyes met. His voice was gentle, but his tone was one of anger. “Care to say that again?”

“I…” I paused and thought better of it. “No.”

“Alright then. You will heal, princessa. But in the meantime…” He pulled me gently to him and kissed my forehead. “You are not allowed to insult your beauty. Understood? The woman I love does not deserve to be insulted., not even by herself.”

I nodded. He shook his head, unsatisfied with my response.

“Let me hear the words, so I know you understand.”

That burning feeling in my stomach coiled up as he spoke. “Yes, Valentino.” I closed my eyes and laid myself on his chest, the sound of his heart thundering under me.

“Good. Because the sooner you’re healed the sooner I can show you all the fun parts of being with someone you love.”

I felt him kiss the top of my head and curled up next to him, I fell into a deep sleep.

#the vees #valentino x reader #valentino x wife #valentino x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin fluff #the vees x reader #valentino #hazbin x reader #valentino x female reader #vox #valentino hazbin hotel

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serpentandlily · 7 months

Text

Untouchable - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister! Reader ✨

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was twisting in your chest, a sick feeling curling in the pit of your stomach, as you hurried down the dimly lit hallways of the River House. You held a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break loose and the bile that stung the back of your throat. You could do it, you could hold it in. At least until you got back to your room. And then you’d be free to cry and cry and cry as much as you wanted to.

You had spent years trying to bury your feelings for the shadowsinger. What had started out as a harmless crush on your older brother’s friend when you were just a girl had blossomed into true, real feelings since you had come of age. But despite your best efforts, Azriel still never seemed to notice you. Not like that anyways.

Him and Cassian had adored you the moment you had entered their life as just a babe and the sister of their best friend. You had been born during a time of peace, decades after the war. The three of them had been nearing two-hundred. They had watched you grow into the female you were today. Had been there through your toughest years after watching your mother brutally murdered in front of you at the age of thirteen, barely saved before your own life was taken.

It was a good thing Rhys had become High Lord before the time you reached eighteen or your father would’ve had you married off, no doubt for some political alliance. You had hoped your brother would’ve given you a role in his court once you were of age but after almost losing you, he had become increasingly protective.

So instead of being sent on missions, or used as an emissary, you spent most of your time volunteering in Velaris—helping to build the sanctuary into what it was today. You had eventually stopped arguing with your brother to loosen up his hold on you when he had broken down crying in front of you simply at the thought of you never returning if he was to send you out in the world.

And how could you complain when Velaris had been your cage? So you learned to play your role, for him, for your brother. The pretty little sister of the High Lord. Never known for anything but your beauty. The beauty that had males sending your father marriage propositions since the age of ten.

But there had only ever been one person you wished would see you that way. And he never had. You had to watch him pine after your own cousin for centuries. Never once looking your way. You feared he’d only ever see you as that little girl—the one who used to climb all over them at the cabin, the one who had the three males wrapped around her finger since she had been born.

Only ever just a girl in his eyes.

And you had made peace with that, as much as it hurt to be looked over by the one person you wanted the most. It still bothered you to watch his eyes track Mor all the time, to stare at her in a way he would never look at you. You had made peace with that…until tonight.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t seen the shift in him when he started looking after the middle Archeron sister. You had once believed he only had eyes for Mor, and it had brought you some solace in knowing that might be the only reason he had never looked your way.

But then Elain showed up and those affections shifted from Mor to her. Suddenly he was always with her, spending hours in the gardens with Elain. Staring at her the way he would stare at Mor. Your heart had started crumbling all over again with the realization that he could move on from Mor, could fall for someone other than her—and it hadn’t been you.

You had left your bed chambers tonight to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you would’ve walked in on. You had smelt them before you opened the doors. Azriel’s cedar and night-chilled mist and Elain’s sweet jasmine and honey.

You should’ve left then but something had compelled you to open the kitchen doors just a hair.

And there they were. Elain seated on the counter, Azriel between her legs. Her skirt has been pushed up to her thighs, his hands tangled in her hair, as they kissed like two starved animals.

You were lucky you had spent years learning how to keep a strong mask like your brother, for it allowed you to slip away without them ever noticing you.

You finally made it to your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You were grateful for the sound wards you had put up because the minute you stepped over that threshold you collapsed into a heap on the floor as heart-wrenching sobs erupted from your lips.

It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a million knives, like someone had gutted you and twisted your insides. It hurt so much to think that Azriel would never want you the way you wanted him. He didn’t want you. He didn’t crave your presence the way you did his. He didn’t want to touch you the way you wanted to touch him. He just didn’t want you.

And he never would.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Send me somewhere,” you said, pressing your palms onto your brother’s desk as you stared at him right in the eyes—the eyes you shared. “Anywhere, I don’t care. Just send me somewhere.”

Rhys frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “What has gotten into you? Did something happen?”

You let out a sigh, collapsing in one of the armchairs. You couldn’t tell him the real reason you wanted to leave. It was embarrassing. “Nothing happened. I’m just…tired of being cooped up here. Please, Rhys. It doesn’t even have to be far—just please.”

“Where is this coming from, y/n? You haven’t asked this in years. I thought you were happy here.”

“I am happy here. But I want to see the world, Rhys. And we’re finally in a time of peace. So let me, please.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, taking in your appearance. The slightly swollen eyes, the dark circles, the haphazard way you had braided your hair this morning. “Did…did someone hurt you? Did someone do something to you?”

“What? No!” A lie of course. But what could you say? Azriel had hurt you but it wasn’t like it was his fault. It wasn’t like he owed you anything.

“You know you can always talk to me about anything. Right, dove?” The use of his nickname for you nearly caused the tears you were fighting back to escape.

“Of course, Rhys. But I promise you. No one did anything to me. Please. The war is finally over and I think I’ve spent enough of my life here. I want to see what the rest of the world has to offer.”

Rhys’s head fell in his hands. “I-I don’t think I can let you go, dove. I’m sorry but I can’t bear it…I can’t bear not having you here where I can protect you.”

“It’s not fair!” You shouted, standing up. “I’m not a child anymore—I’m nearly three hundred years old for Gods sake! I’m suffocating here, Rhysie. Please.”

“Rhys,” Feyre said softly, placing a tattooed hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time you let y/n make her own choices. You promised me you’d always give me a choice—would always let me decide what to do with my life. Why can’t that apply to your sister?”

You shot her a grateful look, hoping she would make him see reason. Rhys stayed silent and you knew he had been struck by her words. “I can go to Mor, on the continent. Then you don’t have to worry about me being alone. I can help her try to form alliances there.”

Still he said nothing but judging by Feyre’s narrowed eyes, you could tell they were having an argument mentally. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress, wishing that he would listen to his mate about this. If anyone could talk Rhys into something, it was her.

It felt like an eternity went by before your brother finally looked up at you. His eyes were full of sadness and guilt and you knew in that moment, you had won.

“Fine, fine. But you will go to Mor in Vallahan and stay with her the whole time. You will listen to her at all times and never go anywhere alone. And you will write me twice a week,” Rhys growled. “And I swear, y/n, if you even miss one letter, I will come get you myself. Those are my rules—take it or leave it.”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face as you jumped to your feet and ran around the desk to embrace your brother in your arms. “Thank you, Rhys! Thank you! I promise I’ll do as you say. I promise.”

He held you tightly as if he never wanted to let go and you peered at Feyre from over his shoulders to mouth her a small ‘thank you’.

This was it. You’d finally be able to leave this city after three hundred years. Finally see the world! And most importantly: be far, far away from the shadowsinger that had won your heart but fallen for another.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Three months went by in the blink of an eye. You had spent the entire time traveling with Mor from Vallahan to Montesere, where you two had just settled down when Rhys had contacted you both, asking for your return home. Apparently he had big news to share but he wanted to do it in person. So now you were packing up your things, getting ready to return back to Velaris for the first time since you had left.

It had been annoying how much you thought of Azriel still. But it was getting easier to ignore the longer you were away. You hoped those feelings would eventually disappear entirely—but every time you thought of moving on, something in your chest would ache and ache.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t taken lovers in your time here. It had always been hard to find males to mess around with in Velaris considering they all knew who your brother was. The last thing they wanted was for Rhys to come looking for them after sleeping with you. So you’d only taken a few lovers here and there throughout the years.

But on the continent, no one knew who you were. Had no idea that you were the younger sister of one of Prythian’s High Lords. And Mor had been sure to teach you all the ways to have someone wrapped around your finger. You had never felt so confident in yourself as you did now. Finally becoming the female you wanted to be without your brother or the two other bats watching you over your shoulder. It was exhilarating.

But the thought of returning home had dampened some of your newfound joy. You were worried about slipping into your old role—being that sweet, pretty, little accessory they all expected you to be.

You wouldn’t allow that. You couldn’t. Not after having a taste of what it could be like if you became the female you always dreamed you’d be. Someone who knew she was desired for more than just her looks. Someone interesting. Someone smart and witty. Someone brave. You tried to ignore the part of you that hoped Azriel might see those things in you now.

“Are you ready to go, y/n?” Mor asked, leaning against the doorframe of your room.

You took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror. You were wearing a dress that was typical of what they wore here in Montesere. If you could even call it a dress. It was white, the bodice dipping into a v-shape and clinging to your body with gold embellishments and blue gems decorating it. It had long sleeves that connected to a hood, stitched in glimmering gold. It cut off right under your breasts, exposing your toned stomach until just slightly passed your belly button.

The skirt was held up by two thin gold straps that criss-crossed over the sides of your hips to connect it to the top part of the dress. The skirt itself traveled to the floor and had two long slits on either side to show off your legs. The white color complimented your tanned skin and the kohl you had lined your eyes with made the violet color of your eyes glimmer even brighter.

You had left your hair down in soft curls, only pinning back two strands on either side of your face with some gold pins. More than happy with the way you looked, you turned back to Mor with a grin.

“I’m ready to go home.”

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #angst #rhysand sister #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #shadowsinger x reader #acosf #post war

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starfxkr · 29 days

Note

My life is hella chaotic rn. So I would like to ask for some poly jj and John b. Like what if jj and reader did something John b explicitly said not to and reader got hurt? How would that play out? -🍓 also HAPPY EASTER MOONYY

HAPPY EASTERRRR ugh i missed poly jj and john b

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

john b knew you were capable of handling yourself, jj was constantly saying you were “built ford tough” but that didn’t mean you were invincible. which is why some boundaries had to be put in place.

boundaries that you and jj seemed to constantly cross.

a lead on the gold had come to a halt—an old capsule was currently buried on the other side of an electric fence with the only way over it being an impossibly large tree. both jj and john b were too big to be supported by the branches and when you offered to climb over it yourself john b immediately shut it down. the drop was too far down and there was no guarantee you could make your way back. almost 10 minutes of back and forth led to you acquiescing. or so he thought.

because now jj was carrying you back home with a swollen ankle and nothing else to show for the stunt.

to jjs credit, he tried his best to diffuse the situation, “look man don’t flip out okay she’s fine ive sprained more wrists and ankles than you can count—“

“doesn’t fuckin matter jj, she wouldn’t have a sprained ankle if you just listened to me.”

the blonde gently deposits you on the couch and you wince, “i was just tryna help john b, you wouldn’t let me do it.”

“see what good that got you? a fucked up leg and nothing to show for it do you think i set rules to be an asshole? now you’re put down for the time being and we gotta find another way to fix this.” he paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair as you and jj guiltily looked away.

“m’sorry man, i just figured we might as well try.” the blonde awkwardly shuffled from side to side, tugging on his ear in discomfort, “you been hella stressed lately we just wanted to help out. guess we made it worse huh?”

john b drops to a squat, gingerly examining your swollen ankle, “s’not too bad is it?”

“mm i’ve had worse. my cousin dislocated my shoulder before now that was fuckin horrible, we had to just pop it back in and not tell my mom or else we’d both get our asses kicked.”

he snorted in response at the story and stood back up, clasping a hand on jjs story, “be lucky that didn’t happen or i’d have to kill you.” he smacks a kiss on his cheekbone and starts to head back to the office, “but you’re still on probation, anything she wants you’re givin it to her, and we both know she’s a shit patient so have fun with that.”

“aw cmon!”

#✨.txt #jj x reader x john b prompt #🍓 anon

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judeswhore · 2 years

Text

tell me again; steve harrington

summary: steve was fully aware that his feelings for you went beyond “just friends” but the fear of ruining years of friendship kept him radio silent. however, a murderous wizard wreaking havoc around hawkins and a little bit of encouragement from his younger friends has him finally admitting the truth.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: slight st4 spoilers

notes: i’m so sorry this took so long i wasn’t really sure what to write so hopefully this is okay, i think this is the longest steve fic ive ever written. also thank u sm for 2500 followers!!! i’m v grateful and appreciative, the feedback on my fics is always so amazing so thank u v much for that :)) you can find my masterlist here.

steve was completely unable to keep his eyes off you for more than ten seconds at a time, no matter what he was supposed to be focusing on, his attention always found it's way back to you, gaze soft but tinted with concern. he'd let his eyes linger on you while trying to hold a conversation with nancy and robin, struggling to come up with ideas to help figure out the ins and outs of the curse but failing miserably because of his fear that you might become the next victim. there wasn't anything in the world steve harrington was more afraid of than losing you.

you'd been a constant light in his life since you were both twelve years old, a never changing force attached to his hip through everything. every up and down you'd been there, every fight with his parents, every failed test, his rocky relationship with nancy and his downfall from king steve to the designated babysitter. you'd been with him through it all, always there to give him your best pep talk and that earth shattering smile that would have him forgetting why exactly he needed a pep talk in the first place. steve knew deep down there would never be anyone like you again, his heart would never react to anyone like it does to you and he wished, god he so badly wished, he'd not wasted so much time on things that didn't matter. because hawkins was going under and steve was scared he'd lose you before he got the chance to show you just how much you meant to him.

for the hundredth time that night he let his eyes seek you out again, tuning out dustin and lucas' conversation about getting more supplies to eddie as soon as possible. nancy and robin had disappeared upstairs not too long ago, robin mumbling something about getting food before she passed out. you, however, were sitting on a mattress across the room from the sofa he was perched on, your back against the wall, legs crossed as max lay with her head against them. the two of you were mumbling quietly to each other, max's head tilted at an angle to meet your eyes, your head dipped low as though to hide your conversation from the others. steve watched the way your fingers sifted gently through the younger girls hair, an almost mother like gesture that sent a pang of longing through his heart.

max being cursed and you all so unsure how to save her had tilted the groups axis significantly, however steve knew you had been completely thrown overboard with the revelation. max had always been like a sister to you, you'd taken her under your wing her first week in hawkins after an unfortunate run in with billy and, as dustin had been with steve, she'd clung to you ever since. even after everything that happened at the mall, you were the only person max didn't push away, the only person she let take care of her when there was no one else around. steve knew you were hurting, knew you felt lost and unable to help and he wanted to pull you into him, to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you until you stopped worrying. but he knew that wasn't possible. like steve, you wouldn't stop worrying until you were more than one hundred percent certain that all the kids were safe.

your lips suddenly tilted into a soft smile, that smile that had steve's knees threatening to give out, and you playfully flicked at max's forehead, a brief moment of normality passing between the two of you. max's smile wasn't as bright, didn't quite reach her eyes, but it settled steve somewhat because he knew it was real and that meant it would ease something inside of you too. max curled her fingers around yours and held your hand to her chest, tilting her head even further as she muttered something that made you nod. slow but full of purpose and then your fingers returned to her hair.

"dude, don't you think it's time to tell her how you feel?" dustin's elbow landed in steve's ribs following his mumbled question and the older boy winced and groaned, pressing his hand firmly to the spot. he finally managed to tear his gaze from you, eyes instead landing on the two boys watching him with knowing looks.

"what are you talking about, henderson?"

"don't you "what are you talking about" me, harrington. you know exactly what i'm talking about." dustin nodded his head in your direction before falling back against the sofa, slouching with a book settled on his lap. "if you keep staring at her like that she might start to melt."

"i'm not staring at her. i'm making sure she's okay, making sure they are okay." steve huffed like a petulant child at being caught out. he knew he wasn't exactly the most subtle when watching out for you but still. friends watch over friends. steve does it with all of them.

"you're staring at her like she might disappear if you blink." this observation came quietly from lucas, and sliding his gaze over, steve found him watching max. the expression on his face was so clear to steve, so obvious. it held every single thought and emotion that had been running through steve's head for the past few hours and in that moment he knew, just like him, lucas' heart was already sitting firmly in max mayfield's hands, whether she knew it or not.

"i don't-" lucas shook his head before steve could continue, running the tip of his finger repeatedly around the mug he was nursing between his hands.

"i get it. i feel like max might disappear if i'm not looking too and it's the worst feeling i've ever had." the words tumbled from his lips, edges harsh and jagged, raw with emotion that screamed to steve. because it didn't matter how young lucas was, how little time he might have known max, he was in love with her and steve understood the gravity of loss when love was involved. "none of us know what's gonna happen next, steve, but i think y/n deserves to know how you feel. don't leave it until it's too late."

"i can't. i-" steve shook his head and dragged a hand through his hair, a light feeling of nausea rolling over him at the thought of finally coming clean. he'd kept his feelings locked away for so long he wasn't sure how he was meant to tell you. what if you hated him for leaving it so long? what if you thought of him as only your friend and he ruined that by making things awkward. he'd rather have you as a friend, unaware of how much you meant to him, than not have you at all. "she knows i love her." which was true enough. you knew steve loved you to some extent, that just above the surface love that he felt for the rest of his friends and he thinks deep down he could live with you only knowing that level of his feelings if it meant never having to say goodbye to you.

"you're in love with her, there's a difference." dustin pointed out, thumbing at the pages of his book, his eyes darting between steve and you. "look, we have no idea who might end up cursed, we have no idea what's gonna happen to us all, don't let something so important slip through your fingers because you're a coward."

"i'm not a coward. i just can't lose her and if she doesn't feel the same then i've fucked up years of friendship and i can't do that."

"and what if you lose her anyway? what if you never tell her and the world fucking ends and she's stuck thinking all she ever was to you was a friend."

"i don't think she'd be all that bothered about-"

"jesus christ, harrington, y/n is so obviously in love with you. she looks at you like you hung the moon.” lucas shook his head, the words hissed lowly in order to keep quiet from the two girls having their own secret conversation. "the way you two look at each other, like there's no one else around, like you'd run straight to fucking hell and back for the other with no hesitation. that goes way beyond friendship and if you don't do something now there are so many ways that you could lose her. there are so many things that i wanna say to max and i don’t even know if i have the time to say them all. make your move before it's too late."

lucas took a deep breath and let his attention settle back on max, that troubled look returning to his eyes. steve knew max and lucas were going through somewhat of a rough patch and his heart gave a twang of sympathy for the other boy. he knew exactly how suffocating it felt to have so much to say and no idea how to say it. you and max were still huddled together, whispering words back and forth, your fingers still running comfortingly through the tangled strands of her hair. as though feelings steve's eyes on you, you glanced up with that favourite smile of his, the one that so easily sent his thoughts skidding away. little did he know as he sent you his own smile, that max had been giving you the exact same speech he'd just gotten, a speech that in just a few hours would change everything.

everyone was sleeping, soft snores and light breaths the only sound in the wheeler's basement but you couldn't seem to settle, tossing and turning on the tiny mattress in front of the sofa every five seconds. it was hot and stuffy and your mind was racing from your earlier conversation with max. the younger girl had lectured you on not being honest about your feelings for steve, had almost scolded you for hiding your feelings when, in her words "steve worshiped the ground you walked on and it was time you both stopped dancing around the truth". she was right, obviously, about your feelings, but your fear of steve's rejection was a dark cloud over your head and was enough to keep you quiet. you could love him in silence, that had always been okay.

max's constant reminder to you of the curse and how there was no guarantee in life also wasn't helping you sleep. you were running out of time and options and you weren't at all ready to say goodbye to the girl you'd come to think of as a sister. you would save her, you had to. a sigh puffed from your lips, unintentionally loud as you flopped on to your back, eyes turning towards the ceiling. steve was sleeping on the sofa above you and you jolted when his hand appeared over the side, fingers prodding lightly into your cheek as he gave a soft grumble.

"stop wriggling." he mumbled, words muffled from what you assume was a result of his face being smushed into his pillow.

"sorry," you tried to keep quiet, fighting the urge again to flip back on to your side. "can't sleep, everything's uncomfortable." steve was silent for a few seconds, his hand still dangling over the edge of the sofa, fingers so close to your face and then suddenly his head was hanging over the edge too. his eyes were heavy and sleepy, hair a complete mess from the pillow and your stomach flipped, goosebumps rising across your arms at how effortlessly pretty he looked. he cocked his lips in a lopsided smile and tapped his fingers against your chin.

"c'mere." then he disappeared again, slumped back into the comfort of the sofa but you didn't move, stayed rooted to the mattress because you weren't entirely sure you'd heard him correctly. that was until he gave a breathy laugh and spoke again. "come here, y/n." his voice was low and still full of sleep and it stirred something inside of you, made your mind race a mile a minute.

sitting up you turned your head to see steve settled back into the sofa, his fingers curled around one corner of the blanket to hold it open for you. his eyes seemed to twinkle, that lazy smile still glued to his lips as he waited for you. without too much thought you climbed up beside him, laying on your side, your face in line with steve's and you gave a quiet hum when he let the blanket fall back around you both. his hand fumbled to wrap it around you, tucking you in so tightly that your chests were almost pressed together. he was warm, the heat radiating from him and it made your thoughts a little foggy.

"better?" his breath fanned your face and this close you could make out every freckle across his nose, every fleck of green in the browns of his eyes and you never wanted to look away.

"yeah." you gave a small nod, slightly flustered and unsure of where to put your arms and so you kept them awkwardly sandwiched between you. so awkwardly in fact that steve chuckled and took one hand in his own, lifting it to his lips where he skimmed teasing kisses across your knuckles. his gaze was intense, so much so that you wanted to squirm and you were more than shocked at the gentle press of his mouth on your skin.

"wanna tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" you just shrugged, not really wanting to voice your worries about max and the curse, feeling as though saying it out loud would make it all the more real. steve hummed in understanding and it tickled against your fingers before he dropped them again, his hand stayed locked around yours however, thumb sweeping back and forth over your palm in a way that had you fighting back shivers. he was still watching you with that same overly intense look in his eyes, your faces so close together from resting against the same pillow. "you know i'll never let anything happen to you, right?"

"there are things that even you can't save us from, steve." you mumbled the words softly, unsure whether he was talking about you alone or the group but the flicker in his eyes suggested it was the former. he gave your fingers a quick squeeze.

"i'll do anything to make sure you're safe, i need you to know that. i can't lose you, y/n.”

"i know. me and you against the world, right?" you shuffled in closer to him, thankful for his warmth because it seemed to have calmed you somehow, a layer of comfort wrapped around you. steve sucked in a breath when your knees bumped against his legs, a soft pink tinting the tops of his cheekbones. he let go of your hand, his gaze still locked on yours and instead brought his fingers to your face. he brushed the backs of them over the curve of your jaw before tucking your hair carefully behind your ear.

"i can't lose you."

"you're not gonna lose me," you curled your own fingers around his wrist and tilted your head into it, an unfamiliar boldness washing over you as

you pressed your lips to the soft skin. steve's lips twitched into a smile, one that felt like liquid heat inside of you. "gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not, harrington."

"i think i could live with that." his eyes searched your face, taking in each and every small feature as though he was committing them to memory. the way he was looking at you made the hairs on your arms stand up, heat curling in your stomach as your heart gave a thud. he'd never looked at you with such intensity before and you weren't sure how to handle it, your body feeling hot under his attention. his palm found your cheek, soft against the skin, and you melted into him with the first swipe of his thumb beneath your eye. "you're so beautiful."

you let out a startled breath that fanned across his lips and it was only then that you realised you'd moved so close to him, your faces only inches apart. his eyes fell to your lips, gaze dark and every thought in your head turned to dust in that moment, steve's fingers the only thing you could focus on. the entire room seemed to have fallen silent as though waiting for one of you to move, even dustin's bulldozer snores seemed muted to your ears.

"steve-"

"i love you." the words tumbled from his lips, a little harsher than he intended and you blinked in surprise, lips parting again on his name but he was speaking already. "i mean, i'm in love with you." those words were a lot softer, muttered almost nervously into the room and you didn't miss the flush on his cheeks or the anxious waver of his voice.

"you're in love with me?"

"so in love with you." his nod was slow, his lips curving into a tentative smile. his thumb trailed to your bottom lip and he carefully brushed over it, tugging it down ever so slightly before letting it snap back into place. "you have no idea." you were frozen, eyes locked on steve but he was staring at your mouth, eyes glassy and a little unfocused and you wanted to know what exactly was running through his head, wanted to know if his thoughts were as jumbled as yours.

steve harrington was in love with you. your best friend, the boy who teased you about your braces, the boy you fought russian's with, the boy you'd been in love with since he first offered you his chocolate bar when you were twelve years old, was in love with you. your mind wouldn't let you believe it, your heart hammering in your chest as you wondered over whether he was just joking with you. but he looked so serious, so set and the nervous glint in his eyes made you think that he maybe was being honest.

"you don't have to say it back, i know you probably don't feel the same but with everything that's happening with the curse and us having no fucking clue what we're doing, i just needed you to know." you arched your eyebrows at him and shuffled impossibly closer, lifting your hand to brush his hair back off his forehead.

"you seriously think i wouldn't feel the same?" he just shrugged, suddenly looking shy, his eyes flickering around your face and you gave a quiet laugh, head shaking. "steve, i've been in love with you since we were twelve." you felt his entire body go tense against you, his thumb pausing it’s back and forth motion across your chin and the awe struck expression on his face made you giggle quietly.

“why didn’t you say anything?”

“why didn’t you say anything?” you prodded his cheek playfully and he sent you a sheepish grin, ducking his head ever so slightly. you watched him, slipping your hand over his neck until his hair tickled the tips of your fingers. “i guess looming death is a great way to get a love confession out of someone, hm?”

“lucas made me realise that i want you to know just how much i love you in case the worst happens. i need you to know how much you mean to me, that i don’t just look at you and see my best friend, that i look at you and i see someone i wanna spend the rest of my life with. however long that might be.” a slow smile curved your lips at his words and you pushed your fingers completely into his hair, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. your chest felt light but hot, completely fuzzy because steve loved you.

“i love you more than i thought was ever possible, i’m so in love with every single part of you steve harrington.” steve’s grin was wide and full blown, almost taking up his entire face and it was that smile that made your first kiss so ridiculously awkward for the first couple of seconds. it was a clash of teeth, a bump of noses, the gentle knock of his chin against yours until you giggled and he laughed and then he was kissing your properly. full and with so much love your blood seemed to sing in your veins and your heart hammered so harshly against your chest you were certain it was trying to reach his.

his fingers gripped lightly at your chin to keep you tilted towards him and the soft noise he let out into your mouth when you shifted your fingers through his hair was decidedly your new favourite sound. his lips were warm and soft, so soft you were determined to know what lip balm he used, and he tasted of mint, his toothpaste not yet having warn off, with the tiniest hint of the coffee he’d been stealing from you all day. you felt dizzy, drunk on his kisses and in that moment you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you. steve’s body shifted until he was half hovering over you, the blanket thankfully covering you from any prying eyes however you hoped everyone was still fast asleep.

this moment was one you wanted to stay in forever. in time, whenever you thought of fleeting happiness, it would be this moment. steve’s lips on yours, his previous declaration of love branded into your heart like an immovable stamp. he nipped ever so slightly at your bottom lip and then mumbled his next words directly into your mouth, the sound muffled and messy, his voice a little shaky.

“tell me again.”

“hmm?” you couldn’t concentrate. not when he was kissing you the way he was, when you could feel every inch of his body up against yours, the heat of him swirling white hot happiness in your stomach. he pulled back slightly, lips only inches from yours and sent you a small smile. the tops of his cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy from your fingers, falling carelessly over his forehead, just kissing the tops of his eyebrows.

“i wanna hear you say it again, so i know i’m not dreaming.”

“you had me like this in a lot of your dreams, harrington?”

“a few of them, although we’re both usually wearing a lot less clothes.” you smacked his shoulder at that, eyes rolling despite your grin because you’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t had similar dreams. steve smothered his laughter in your hair, trying his hardest to stay quiet and not wake the others. he was guaranteed to be teased once they found out he finally admitted how he felt and he’d much rather have shared a few more kisses before that happened. he took a few seconds to calm his giggles and then tipped his head back to you, dropping a kiss to your chin and then the corner of your mouth. “tell me again.”

with a sigh you took his face in your hands, palms soft against his cheeks and stared headlong into those dark eyes that had you hooked from day one. your thumbs brushed beneath his eyes and you lifted your head to nudge his nose. “i love you.” there was such finality to your words, a solid statement, a fact, something that would never change and that was all it took for steve to bring you in for another kiss. this one was deeper and a little more desperate but still so utterly and completely toe curling. you had been through your fair share of kisses but nothing would ever come close to this one.

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