#I WOULD APOLOGIZE FOR ALL OFF THIS BUT THE TRUTH IS THAT I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO BE NORMAL ABOUT JIMMYSEA

[dobadoo]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ YANDERE WANDERER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ soft yan wanderer ꒰ UPDATE !꒱

ow oow..he love u too much !!

✧ warnings — fem !! reader, soft yanderer wanderer,, light mention of NSFW, slightly coercive attitude, Unhealthy relationships <3 . ✧ a/n — ..this character is so complicated..(that's why I love him lol) So there might be some discrepancy with canon. I translated from my native language to English, so there will be some mistakes.. tell me if you see any//

✧ How did he realize his feelings? How quickly did it happen?

You first crossed paths on the Street in Sumeru. Daydreaming, you accidentally bumped into the Wanderer. Automatically apologizing, you smiled slightly and walked on. You didn't see the face of the man who had the misfortune of crossing your path. But he remembered yours.

At another time, the Wanderer would have called out to the absent-minded passerby and expressed his displeasure at his inattention, but this time, for some reason, he didn't feel the desire to ruin someone's mood. Following his gaze as you disappeared around the corner, he was surprised to feel something strange, half-forgotten inside himself…

"No, I'm not going to get involved in this," - the former Number Six of the Fatui Harbingers shook his head decisively.

Yes, he decided to live like a human. But that doesn't mean he wants to go through the same pain as before. Perhaps the Wanderer would have forgotten this meeting over time… even the gods do not know the answer to this question. Or, on the contrary, they decided to remind him what it is like to love?..

The second time he saw you was at a doll-making workshop. You were not from Sumeru and decided to bring home such an interesting souvenir, and he just wanted to make a doll similar to the one he once had. The workshop lasted for several days. You did not even look in the Wanderer's direction, all the time thinking about something of your own, but he did not take his eyes off you. On the third day, the Wanderer began to get angry not only at himself, for making the same mistakes as he once did, becoming attached to a mortal man, but also at you, for not noticing him.

Although, unlike the other people he once loved, you did not give him anything, but for some reason your opinion of him seemed important to him. On the fourth day, the Wanderer could not stand such inattention to his person and began to cough loudly and demonstratively. You looked up at him in confusion:

Be healthy, - you said politely and again looked away from the young man. The Archons see that if the Wanderer were not a puppet, he would choke on this!.. On what?.. Even on the same air!..

For the first time, he saw that someone did not care about him so much. Especially someone he deigned to be interested in. The fifth day was the last day of the master class. Realizing that if he did not do anything now, it would never work out, the Wanderer approached and casually asked:

"Hmm… what is your name?" - You said your name.

"And yours?.."

"Wanderer."

"I see. Excuse me, I need to go." - You turned around to leave the place where the master class was being held. The young man who approached you, apparently to get acquainted, was very handsome in appearance: thick blue-black hair, indigo eyes, delicate features… it was hard to imagine a man as beautiful as Wanderer. But something about him repulsed you… perhaps his manner of speech?..

"Where are you going? hmh.I hope your majesty, you don't mind if I go with you..It wasn't a question."

"I don't need you." - you sighed, I looked at him questioningly.

"What, really?.. Just look at yourself. Thin arms, no weapon. Where are you going to stick your nose in?.."

"In any case, it's none of your business, and it's better to go alone than with a boor like you!.."

"Am I boor? I'm just telling the truth, and if someone doesn't like listening, that's their problem."

"You're right, of course, but if I don't like listening, no one can make me believe otherwise."

"I see."

Wanderer chuckled. His interest in you grew even stronger. The former "balladeer" didn't understand what it was about you that he liked so much, both the first time and now. The first time you didn't talk, so it wasn't the so-called "intelligence." Beauty?.. yes, you're quite nice, but he's seen many prettier ones. The human world is full of mysteries.

The old Scaramouche wouldn't have looked for answers to all these questions. Did he like you?.. great. If you don't want to follow him yourself, he'll kidnap you. He's the Harbinger, who has subordinates and a million ways to keep you locked up. But that's not the case now. It's not even that he's no longer a member of Fatui, it's just that he's become different. He decided that he wanted to absolve himself of all his sins, but how could he do that if he kidnapped someone, even if, one might say, out of scientific interest?.. he needs to think of something else. Maybe he would tell Nahida about it, or, if she was busy, the Traveler.

After listening attentively to Wanderer, the goddess of Wisdom gave him a book.

"All about etiquette: a complete set of rules for social and business communication,"

"Is she kidding? ahh"

He read the book and found out that it was customary to address strangers as "you." It turned out that it was not very nice to start an acquaintance with rudeness even with a simple person, and even more so if you liked him… but it couldn't be that you rejected him, Wanderer, just because he was a little abrupt!..

✧ How jealous is he? How will he deal with his rivals?

He really doesn't like it when you care about someone more than him. However, the smart Wanderer will never arrange a massacre just like that. Although, is it necessary his given inclinations?.. Yes, he can knock a person down so much that it seems better to hit him a couple of times… In Sumeru, they talk about you as a strange couple: a dreamer with thoughts as light as the wind, and an angry kitten, ready to sink his little teeth into the throat of anyone who dares to look at her.

However, Wanderer may seem like a harmless kitten only to a person who has never encountered him. And soon it will become clear to everyone that the "kitten" is not as weak as he seems. Wanderer sharp tongue will quickly do its job. Your admirers will not dare to approach you. At least in his presence.

If someone bothers you too much, Wanderer despite having decided to start a new life, will go to extremes. Oh no, he won't kill that person. He'll just gouge out their eyes. If this guy doesn't understand that it's not nice to look at other people's loved ones, he'll have to show him that. Well, at least this way he'll never make the same mistake again!

✧ Would he kidnap you?

The old Scara, as mentioned above, would kidnap you without a second thought. But now he knows he can't do that. Maybe if your relationship lasts long enough for him to feel he has the right to control you, he'll restrict you a little: make you quit your job and stay home, demand that you come home by nine o'clock and not talk to people he doesn't like.

But if you kindly remind him that you're not his thing, he'll have no choice but to roll his indigo eyes and accept that you're not going to do his bidding.

✧ What are his rules?

First of all, you must not love anyone but him, just as he loves no one but you. That's the most important thing. He also wants you to accompany him wherever he goes - that's the only way he can be sure that you won't cheat on him. He's generally very fanatical about you being faithful to him as a lover should be. Wanderer knows himself well: if he's betrayed again, he won't be able to return to atone for his sins.

✧ What does his behavior look like?

Everyone has a friend or acquaintance who likes to say nasty things, grumble, say that he will never help an idiot like you, and then help in a way that even the most polite and courteous people will not help. So. This friend is Wanderer

He can scold you a hundred times for allowing yourself to be deceived, but you will be sure that your offender will not get off with a light fright.

He can declare a thousand times that he doesn’t care about people, they have too many useless functions that only get in the way in life, but you will always find your favorite food at home. He can tell you a million times that you're a complete idiot, but if someone else says it… oh, man, are you completely tired of living?.. Wanderer believes that he is in a special position and has the right to tell you whatever he wants, but he will react extremely aggressively if someone else thinks the same.

✧ Affection?

As for showing affection… well, he…

Actually, it's touching. Yes, touching. It's not always nice, but touching. It can be a little rough, but it's not intentionally rough, he would NEVER hurt you. You hear me? Never.

Damn it. He'll pick you flowers in Gandharva while he's quietly cursing under his breath about how childish it is, he'll braid your hair or squeeze your hand roughly to make sure you're with him, next to him, and you won't go anywhere. That kind of connection is incredibly intimate, if you think about it. It's a connection on a very deep level, it's love. So everything he does, whether it's nice or not for you, is an expression of love.

He's always with you, even when you don't notice. In the Sumeru bazaar, in the rainforest, or somewhere in the academy, you always sneak a glimpse of that kasa hat.

✧ What kind of punishment does he use?

If you are too brazen and respond to his caustic remarks with aggression (in general, act like a brat), then he will ignore it for a long time, and believe me, he is very good at it. (but he still gave in after 5 minutes)

Oh.. So you are one of those very.. "sweet" lovers? then why don't you cuddle with him together, just you, him and your cozy bed! The wanderer, of course, was not born yesterday and has a full understanding of human.. Desires. No matter how much the Wanderer hates human sins, you remain his weakness. The Wanderer knows, and has even seen how people succumb to the embrace of lust, and if you are his sweet lover, why don't you do it together?

so that he (will make) you lie with him in the evening, in a cozy bed or in some secluded place in the forest of Avidya, and kiss you passionately, with love, until you knock and beat his back from lack of air

Oh.. So if you are one of those very "mean" lovers, oh you wretch! you deserve punishment.. So, you'll have to sleep next to him and kiss your puppet for a long time before going to bed… If you don't agree to that either, the Wanderer will decide to gently caress you a little from below.. And you won't be able to avoid that!!

✧ What happens if you get sick?

Wanderer will tell you a lot of things while you're sick. For example, that only an idiot could go out without a hat, knowing that it would rain, and you is quite sick and can easily catch something. And also that the human body is very weak in principle, so you shouldn't have gone anywhere at all, just like he said… but at the same time he will surround you with pillows, feed you with a spoon, buy you sweets and make you tea.

One day, when he will be adjusting the blanket at night, you will wake up and, in your sleep, say that such behavior makes him human…

✧ How much does he need your love?

Initially, Wanderer didn't want to experience feelings that usually hurt people, but when he admitted that he was in love, he realized that there was no point in being afraid anymore. Everything that could happen has already happened, and nothing can be done about it.

And since he loves you, it would be desirable for you to love him too. And if Wanderer can't open the door to your heart, he will try to achieve at least a tolerant attitude towards himself. However, this will never be enough for him. He wants his feelings to be reciprocated.

✧ Views on family

Family… such a forgotten and alien word for him. The wanderer used to have a family 500 years ago, but he doesn't want to remember it, and he won't dare tell you about it, he doesn't want to scare you off.. About children, girl, do you really think that a puppet can impregnate you? It's funny. But if you really get close, Wanderer will treat you like a family member. In order not to offend you, over time he will moderate his ardor and become less harsh in his judgments.

But if you don't need him, and you are simply forced to be near him… he will treat you not as a thing, no. If you put a thing, it stands there. And you, more like a pet. You tell him: don't climb there, and he climbs. You tell him: don't eat this, and he eats. You tell him: don't bother this person, and he bothers. Usually, of course, a pet is perceived as part of the family, but it is unknown whether Wanderer will put so highly someone whom he considers so inferior to himself.

✧ What kind of pet-names does he use?

Well…he doesn't like to use pet-names like "sweety pie" or "my bunny", etc. (only sarcastically, and rarely).. Even the puppet like him gets sick of it. But the Wanderer often uses poetic nicknames towards you. He can compare you to characters from books or heroes of famous paintings.

And you have a surprisingly large number of such "second names": each time he calls you differently, depending on the situation and your behavior. For example, if you are a night owl and don't like to sleep at night, he calls you "Selena" in honor of the moon goddess, if you prefer airy, light-colored clothes, he can compare you to an angel, and so on.

The Wanderer is very protective of you, because he considers you the only person who can accept him as he is. And, you can be sure, he will do everything to not lose you.. Not after what he went through..

"But you are not angry, are you, my Persephone?.."

@crimsoncandy04 @anantaru @hitomisuzuya @lavandulawrites @himasgod @neuvigroove @quimichi @rsventhesecondd @anemoswirlsmyheart @nil4everheartz @kujiba @genshingorlsrevengeance @shyentsfoundherink @lavandulawrites @ashyashylee @hitomisuzuya

[blessedbyahuntress]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Seventeen: IMA SMITE HIM

Prev/Next

A/N: My apologies, I need to write a short chapter every once and a while.

Warnings: Mentions of death, but this is EPIC so like... anyways, attempts of self-harm (unsuccessful for the most part. I would never have my baby hurt herself)

Word Count: 600

Wind rushed past you as you fell. Odysseus was still clutching your hand like a lifeline, but his eyes were squeezed shut. 

You and your captain’s survival would depend on you.

Ignoring the shouts of your crewmates that you could hear all the way from the ship, you glanced down. You were about fifty seconds away from smashing onto the rocky ground of the Underworld. 

You latched your other hand on Odysseus’s forearm, dragging him closer to you as you tumbled through the cold air until he was right on top of you, and you had both of his hands in yours. 

You had a theory, and if you were right, you and Odysseus would escape this with little more than a few bruises.

And if you were wrong… 

The impact with the ground knocked all of the breath out of you. But at least you had breath.

You shouldn’t be alive. 

Odysseus’s eyes snapped open, widening when he realized he was on top of you. He scrambled off, concern burning in his gaze as he studied you.

You winced as you struggled to sit up. Odysseus cleared his throat.

“No offense,” he said. “But shouldn’t you be dead right now?”

You took a moment to find an answer, sighing when you realized he would believe nothing but the truth. 

You felt your spine mending, the bruises fading. That definitely was not normal. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, you unsheathed your sword. You didn’t look anywhere but the blade as you cut across the skin of your forearm. Odysseus watched you in shocked silence.

Your blood- it was golden ichor- the blood of gods.

You suddenly felt dizzy, sword clattering to the ground beside you. You had suspected, of course, but seeing it in real life, it seemed impossible. 

“Ody.” Your soft voice barely stirred the air.

You finally lifted your gaze, eyes meeting your captain’s as the wound closed up on its own.

“You’re a goddess,” he said.

Your mouth felt dry- you weren’t sure if you could speak. So you only nodded.

Odysseus ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t that mean you could smite me at any moment?”

You barked a laugh. It was dry, humorless; nothing like your old giggling. “Yes, Ody,” you agreed. “I suppose I could.”

Your captain closed his eyes as if to control the rhythm of his breathing. “But… how?” He asked. 

It sounded like he was questioning the universe, but you answered anyway. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve been with us the whole time. Gods above, you’ve been with me my entire life! Eurylochus told me about Hermes training you. Perhaps he could have something to do with it… no. Athena has mentored me for much longer, and I’m not on Olympus right now. Didn’t you have normal blood during the Trojan War? I thought it was red-”

You cut off his ramble with a finger to his lips. “Shush, Ody. I- this has to be a mistake. I can’t be a goddess just like that. Ya know what? I’ll ask Hermes the next time I see him, alright?” You sighed. “Just… drop it for now.”

You held Odysseus with your piercing gaze until he finally nodded. 

You rose to your feet, not a hint of pain in your stance, nothing marking the fact that you had just fallen off of a cliff.

Odysseus beside you, you started toward the ship. 

“If I really am a goddess, I’m definitely coming back down here to smite that prophet the next chance I get.”

Taglist: @barrythestrawberry041 @thereigningking @m-carriaga2021 @jackintheboxs-world @fallenh34art @itzkingbo @sabrina-senpai @smartiepants217 @doodle-with-rhy

[hunterofartemis7]

Adopted by the gods AU pt.14

Athena: *running after her son* Odysseus! Odysseus please wait!

Odysseus: *turns and faces her, tears in his eyes* you lied to me!

Athena: I never lied to you

Odysseus: you told me I was abandoned!!

Athena: you were!

Odysseus: not from what I just heard!

Athena: all you heard were the lies from a mortal who didn’t want to admit what she did!

Odysseus: okay back tracking, why didn’t you tell me they were alive?!

Athena: because it didn’t matter! They abandoned you!

Odysseus: it does matter! Clearly no one can agree on what really happened—

Athena: Odysseus I know what happened! I know what I saw and heard!

Odysseus: and what was your plan if I ever found out on my own!? Were you ever going to tell me?!

Athena: I..I don’t know maybe! I didn’t think that far ahead!

Odysseus: really!? The goddess who plans for everything didn’t plan on telling her son that he is 1, a prince, and 2, still has living parents!?

Athena: none of that stuffed mattered! If you had gone back after they abandoned you they would’ve killed you!

Odysseus: you don’t know that! Fuck you aren’t even 100% sure if I was abandoned!! You yelled one thing and they yelled another!

Athena: I know that i was trying to protect my son from the people who tried to kill him!! And even if they didn’t, they never bothered looking for you! What would be the point of telling you about people who didn’t want you!?

Odysseus: do you really believe all this or are you just in denial because you don’t want to admit your wrong and give me up!?

Athena:…….

Odysseus:…..just leave me alone mom.

Athena: Odysseus-

Odysseus: i said leave me alone mother!! *runs off*

Athena:……..*slumps down against the wall holding her head in her hands*

Aphrodite:..well that happened

Athena: *crying* go away

Aphrodite: *sits beside her and pulls her into a hug stroking her hair*

Athena: *cries into her shoulder*

Aphrodite: sshhh, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.

Athena: how!? How could it possibly be okay!? *pushes away and stands up pacing around* My son hates me and won’t believe a word I say, his birth parents are back and want to take him, and all of the Olympians are on their side!!

Aphrodite: not all of them

Athena: name one!

Aphrodite: Artemis, me, and Hermes

Athena: *rolls her eyes* great, three gods agree with me! Not like there’s another 9 who want him gone! I’m gonna lose my fucking son!

Aphrodite: Thea. You’re not going to lose your son.

Athena: really!? Cause after that shit show I’d be amazed if Father doesn’t make me send him back with those people!

Aphrodite: Thea! You are still his mother, whether Zeus likes it or not he can’t make you do a damn thing with Odysseus. And besides, even in the mess of you and his birth mom fight we still don’t know what really happened.

Athena: I know what fucking happened!

Aphrodite: and so does the queen apparently. Clearly some wires are getting crossed. Btw Zeus wants you to apologize for punching her in the face

Athena: not happening!

Aphrodite: okay…well you at least need to have a civil conversation with her so we can figure this out.

Athena: clearly a conversation didn’t work last time

Aphrodite: well you have a better idea?

Athena:…..no

Aphrodite: then let’s go. *stands up* Hermes got a truth spell from Circe, so we will know whether or not the Queen is lying.

Athena: fine. *follows Aphrodite back to the throne room*

Diomedes: *hiding under the dinning table with Odysseus* *whispers* why are we doing this?

Odysseus: *whispers* I want to know what really happened.

Diomedes: *whispers* do you really believe mother lied to you?

Odysseus: *whispers*…idk. But she’s to stubborn to listen to the other lady and not be in denial. I want to know.

[sailornymph]

Hihi!!! I would like to request the uchihas as older brothers maybe?? How they would be towards their younger sibling and such,, I hope you get what I mean!! Thank you anyhow💓

“DEAR BROTHER”

the uchiha men as older brothers 

♡︎ madara uchiha 

— madara and izuna are both incredibly protective, but with madara being oldest, he’s worst

— you’re strongest than most girls your age, but still weaker than him, meaning you need protection

— he helps you with training and self defense for when he isn’t around

— he’s the type to give you pep talks about how you are capable of being the strongest among your age group, if you work for it

— when izuna dies, he becomes even more protective, you aren’t even allowed to leave the compound without shinobi

— hates the idea of you dating, but only because he doesn’t want you with someone who is completely useless

— your outcome could end up being one of the two possibilities. he fakes your death, along with his, taking you with him. or, you get the news that he has died, and you become the next clan leader because other than izuna, you were the next person thought to be worthy enough of the title

— 6/10. he isn’t the worst, but he is too power driven. he knows that he is the best and he wants his youngest sister to be just like him. knowing the strength he and his siblings have, no one will ever be good enough, because they’re all weak

“y/n,” madara called out, making you gasp, pushing hikaki away to run, however izuna was in front of him in a flash, grabbing him.

“izuna, let him go,” you pleaded.

“you’ve been missing all evening, had everyone worried, but you’ve been with this boy,” madara said, glaring at the boy.

“big brother, please,” you pouted.

“don’t look at her, you always give in,” madara said to izuna.

“is this boy uchiha?” izuna asked you, his eyes on the boy, struggling in his arms.

“exactly, he doesn’t look like a uchiha to me, what did i tell you about outsiders?”

“brother-

“what did i tell you?”

“they’re weaker,” you held you head down in defeat.

“it is the truth, how could i trust this imbecile to protect our precious baby sister, when he can’t protect himself from this,” he said, easily putting the boy into a genjutsu.

izuna let the boy go and suddenly he screamed in agony, dropping to his knees. rushing to his aid, you tried to help him, but he held the look of fear in his eyes.

“madara, izuna,” you whined.

“promise you will stop seeing this pathetic little thing,” madara said, the look of disgust on his face.

“i promise, just stop it,” you cried, relieved when hikaki relaxed.

“now your end of the deal,” he said, making you glare at him.

“don’t glare, if you put this much energy into training, you would be the strongest person i knew,” he said, watching as you stormed off.

“you better go easy on the words, or you’ll get the silent treatment again,” izuna said, leaving to catch up with you to apologize.

“silent treatment? y/n, you wouldn’t ignore your dear brother would you, i just want you with a strong uchiha,” he explained, his jaw dropping, realizing you hadn’t turned to him yet, and kept walking with izuna.

“y/n, as your oldest brother, i demand you stop this now,” he called out, trying to catch up with you.

♡︎ itachi uchiha 

— the most caring big brother, like the literal best

— he’s the oldest, while sasuke is the youngest, leaving you in the middle, but he is very attentive to you, so you never feel left out as the middle child

— you follow his footsteps of working for the anbu, and he requests that you be placed on his team. when his dangerous mission is brought up, a task that is too big of a burden for a child, he takes it anyway. you overhear everything waiting on him outside of the office. exiting, he looks at you, knowing that you most likely heard, and from your look alone, knows that you will leave with him

— he doesn’t want you to carry the burden, so he tells you, if you plan to leave with him, to wait outside of the compound, while if you want, you could stay with sasuke

— leaving with him means leaving your life as a shinobi behind because he will not allow you to join akatsuki with him, instead he implies that you are weak to tobi, how he hardly let you kill anyone on your missions, so that you seem uninteresting. instead, he helps you get a comfortable home and job to begin building your life someplace new

— he’s not over protective, he knows you can take care of yourself. however, he does not tolerate disrespect towards his baby sister

— visits in between missions, at first it was typical activities, bringing him dangos that you made before his arrival, telling him about your week, while he sulks. as his health declines, it usually involves you taking care of him to some degree

— despite getting sick, he tries to hide it and continue old activities, cooking, piggybacking, or reading

— leading up to his death, he suggests that you make your presence known to sasuke and at least act like he forced you to come along with him

— 8.5/10. even after everything he had to do, he tried to remain that same big brother as before the incident. even as he planned for his death, he wanted you and sasuke to reunite, even if it gave his baby brother a another reason to be mad at him

carefully sitting each dango stick on the plate, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. itachi usually came around this time. pouting, you felt your eyes watering, as you thought of your last conversation.

“i want you to do a favor for me”

“what is it?”

“go back to konoha, or at least that way, to run into sasuke”

“why-

“when you see him, i want you to tell him that i forced you to leave with me, that night,” he said, his head low. this became a regular position for him, since beginning to lose his sight.

“itachi”

“could you do that for your dear brother?”

“and what about you?”

“i knew what i signed up for,” is all he said, he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

it had been over two weeks, since receiving the news that he was now dead. the numbness was settling in, but your brain couldn’t seem to accept the truth. you still continued preparing your home, as if he would show up. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. you couldn’t believe part of you expected to see itachi, waiting with a small gift in his akatsuki cloak, as usual. however, what you didn’t expect to see was sasuke.

opening the door, you stared with widened eyes, unable to believe what you were seeing. he had grown so much taller.

“sasuk-

you were interrupted by him pulling you into his arms. you could feel the wetness on your shoulders from his tears.

“how did you find me?”

“tobi,” he said, making your eyes widened.

“you know the truth”

“even itachi’s plans for you,” he said.

“i couldn’t, you were already so angry with him, i give you another reason to hate him, when he loved everyone so much,” you cried.

“i wish i could go back-

“don’t, itachi was at peace, he loved you so much, but he was sick and suffering and he can now rest,” you reassured him.

“and what about you? what was your reason for leaving?”

“after all of the things he had done, he needed someone there for him too, we knew you would have friends, we were always different from everyone, but you were always a likable boy, and we were right,” you lightly smiled, wiping your eyes.

“those are not my friends, they’re uh teammates, is that dango?” he asked, nervously.

“yes, would you like some? come, make yourself at home, tell me how life has been for you, baby brother,” you said, sitting the plate in front of him. maybe you could fulfill itachi’s dying wish.

♡︎ indra ōtsutsuki

— there is a 50/50 chance of how you’re treated, but either way it is toxic

— if you’re closer to asura then he will torment you, so steer clear of his path

— however, if you are closer to him, he will hold on to you, in his eyes, you’re the only person who sees his worth

— he’s practically yandere

— he’s protective, very protective, no one is worthy of your presence or attention, not even friends or family

— father wants you to train, well he will train you, he is the strongest anyway

— don’t even think of dating, everyone is beneath you both. he wouldn’t say it to your face, but he’ll beat them all in fights, he’ll scare them away, all you need is your big brother to love you anyway

— 3/10. he loves you so much, but if you're close to him, he will turn you against your family to side with him and your fate will be the same as his.

“indra, have you seen y/n?” the boy hesitantly backed away, being met with a glare.

“why?”

“i asked him to ask, no need to attack the child,” asura chuckled, patting the boy’s back, watching as he ran off.

“what do you want with y/n?”

“she is my baby sister too, you know,” asura smiled, but he was met with a straight face.

“i was hoping to talk to her, father wants to make sure her training is going well, and for me to-

“don't worry about her training, i will take care of it”

“how is she actually?”

“she hurt father, moving out without a word, and she hasn't said anything to him since,” he continued.

“i’ll bring it up,” indra mumbled, relieved when asura stopped following him, as he entered his home.

“big brother? welcome home,” you smiled, as he softly knocked at your door, letting himself in.

“what did you do today?” he asked, sitting next to you.

“i worked on the garden, it is finally coming together”

“that is great, no one tried talking to you, did they?”

“no, they always stay away, like something is wrong with me”

“nothing is wrong with you, it is them,” he reassured.

“we will start back your training tomorrow, father wants to see how much you’ve grown,” he continued, watching as you squealed excitedly.

“i can’t wait”

“would you ever leave here? i mean, you’re getting so much stronger, any plans for marriage or if your friend-

“oh my dear brother, i told you, i am on your side, through thick and thin,” you reached for his hand, smiling as he gave it a light squeeze.

“good”

♡︎ obito uchiha

— it was always just the two of you, even when your grandmother took you both in. when she passed away, it was just as it was before

— he becomes a shinobi, but wants you to live a normal life. everything is fine until you receive news that obito is dead

— for months, you’re grieving, kakashi stopping by, when he can, until one night obito returns. he’s here to take you away from this village. naturally you go with him, he’s all you have after all

— over the years, obito gets even stronger and you are suspicious of his line of work, but you don’t question it because he has never changed the way that he treated you

— he has always encouraged you to chase your dreams, despite being unable to fulfill his own. you want to open a small cafe, he is doing everything in his power to make that happen

— you find him very annoying as tobi. he explained partially why he had to wear a disguise, but you hated how he acted. so goofy and unserious, you preferred the very serious obito, you could come to about anything

— he’s very protective, he doesn’t want the world to hurt you, like it did to him

— please don’t date, you’re just a kid to him in his eyes. he will whine and nag about how you’re too young, no matter how old you get. he just wants you to be content being his baby sister, although, he knows it’s selfish

— 8.7/10.despite being the sibling of a criminal, he does a very good job at concealing that life from you, continuing to love you as hard as before. after his death, kakashi finds you personally explaining everything and how in the end, obito had a change of heart. which makes you smile because you always knew what kind of person he was on the inside

entering the small cafe, in a unusual disguise, his eyes widened, seeing itachi uchiha, sitting at a table, eating dango. he watched as you approached him with another small plate.

“hi sir, these are on the house”

“i couldn’t”

“i insist, you’re one of my regulars and i am appreciative,” you blushed as he thanked you, accepting the plate. walking back to the counter, you tried biting back your smile.

“have you decided what you want sir?” you asked, nodding as he shook his head. he stood waiting, watching as you blushed, repeatedly glancing at itachi. he was too old for you. well, he actually wasn’t, you were a few years older, but still.

hearing the chair pull out, you glanced over, bowing and thanking him for coming, before you went to get the plates. with the cafe now empty, he removed his disguise.

“obito?” you widened your eyes at him, as you walked to the small kitchen, as he followed you.

“you are attracted to that man”

“you make it sound like something weird. he’s nice and really cute. he looks like he could be a uchiha too,” you blushed, making him roll his eyes.

“he could be a mass murder for all you know, and why are you giving him free dango? you need all the money you can get,” he told you, crossing his arms.

“he likes dango, and he always leaves extra money. if you were upset about that dear brother, i can make you a batch of dango,” you began to walk away, when he reached for you arm.

“just wait until i am dead to date anyone, it stresses me out too much to know my baby sister is growing to longer be a baby any more, it hurts me,” he said, making you hug him.

“aww obito, i have no plans on dating right now, not when i have a business to run and i said he was cute, not that i wanted to marry him. also, i’ll always be your baby sister, no matter how old we get,” you said, smiling as his tense body relaxed at your words.

♡︎ sasuke uchiha

— probably the most normal out of the group

— itachi kills the clan and leaves the two of you alive

— despite his wild emotions, he tries his best to maintain normality with you. joking around, piggyback rides, making treats together

— younger sasuke is convinced you both are better than everyone else and when he’s free, he teaches you a few things he learned from kakashi

— early on, he kind of expects you to stay under his wing. kids are asking you to play with them, he’ll say let’s leave and kind of expects you to come with him. he can’t risk losing you too

— he is super protective, he doesn’t even like if someone implies something distasteful about you, however, it changes as he changes

— when he leaves the hidden leaf, he leaves you, telling you to let go, as you hold onto him, crying begging him to stay, or at least take you with him, he says no and reassures you that you can go to sakura or kakashi for anything

— while he may have had a problem with you having a crush as a child, by the time you are teenagers, he doesn’t care anymore because he has more important things to worry about

— once he is on his road to redemption, he feels guilty about how he was towards you. he was so focused on getting revenge, that he neglected his last relative alive

— 9/10. he has made mistakes in his life, but despite what he thinks, he has been a great brother. with a bit of reassurance, you can restore your bond

slipping on your shoes, just as you opened the door, you were surprised to see sasuke, his hand up about to knock.

“sasuke, when did you get back?” you said, as his shoulders relaxed.

“this morning, i was with sarada,” he explained.

“did you get to see her in action, she wants to be hokage, doesn’t that remind you of someone?” you smirked.

“yes,” he agreed.

“would you like to join me for lunch? i’m having onigiri,” you asked, as his cheeks reddened, shyly nodding his head.

“how-how have you been?” he asked, turning his head.

“i’m okay, i spend my weekends with sakura and sarada and my b-friend,” you stuttered, catching his attention.

“a friend from the academy?”

“no, he’s from another village,” you shook your head.

“he? how long have you been friends with him?”

“well, we’ve been together for about four months-

“together?”

“he's-he is my boyfriend, i wanted to let you meet him, to make sure he was sasuke approved, but i wasn't sure you'd want to do such a thing”

“i-i don't mind y/n, is my opinion important to you?”

“of course, it is, if my dear brother thinks he is terrible, then i have my answer because you're the coolest guy i know,” you said, lightly bumping his shoulder.

“then i will meet him,” he nodded.

“great, i'll tell him tomorrow, try not to scare him too much”

“how can he be the one, if he is scared easily?”

“you have a point, so will you eat some cake with him today,” you nearly laughed at the frown appearing on his face. he hated sweets.

“don't be gross”

[theghostofashton]

2024 fic roundup

a bit late but thank you @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @whatsintheboxmh @henrygrass

@alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @reyesstrand @paperstorm for the tags!! <3

gives me shelter (4k)

“Carlos, if this is what we do every year, stay in and eat takeout and watch bad reality tv, that’s enough,” TK continues. “It’s more than enough for me, to know you’re okay. Okay?”

now i wake up by your side (17.5k, sequel to you saw the truth in me)

Carlos has given him everything, and he still can’t manage to get over himself. “Do you think that’s fair?” “To Carlos?” he sniffs, rubbing roughly at his eyes. “’Course not. He deserves better.” “To you, TK,” Sara says. or, three years in the future, tk decides to introduce carlos to the world.

brave enough (2.5k)

With everything that’s happened, Marjan isn’t sure it’s the best idea she’s ever had, but she wouldn’t change it. The trip gave her answers to questions she’s not even sure she was consciously asking before she left. “I’m really happy you’re okay,” Nancy says tearfully, once she’s sat back down. “I don’t know we would’ve done if we–” She pauses, and shakes her head. “If I’d lost you.” Marjan reaches for her hand again. “I would’ve done anything to come home to you,” she whispers, and the words feel unabashedly good coming out of her mouth.

as if you needed a reason (4.4k)

“Thank you. TK told me what you said. It means a lot.” Marjan shrugs. “It wasn’t anything crazy. I knew you wouldn’t just up and ghost him out of nowhere.” “I wouldn’t.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Just… been a difficult few weeks, I guess. I don’t blame him for thinking I would.” “I think TK knows you better than that,” she offers softly, and he can’t help but wonder if she actually believes it. She knew him, better than that, and he’s still not sure why. or, carlos goes to thank marjan

to begin again (8.4k, cowritten with @sanjuwrites)

When they finally get to the parade, Carlos feels himself stop. The rest of the group continues forward, but he stands there and just stares, at the confetti and the glitter and the color, so bright, but the furthest thing from blinding. “Baby?” A hand presses to the small of his back, and he feels TK slot in beside him. “I’m okay,” he says softly. “Sorry, I just–” “You have nothing to apologize for, babe,” TK says, and when Carlos looks at him, his eyes are shiny too. “Beautiful, right?” Carlos nods. “It never gets old,” TK whispers. or, 5 times carlos felt uncomfortable with being gay in texas, and one moment of pride

fill the empty spaces (1.2k)

He wonders, sometimes, if TK has a sixth sense, and if it’s knowing. Sending a text when Carlos is in the worst mood, calling right as Carlos’s day goes south. Taking Carlos’s hand when they’re out in public and the world gets too loud, for a second. Reminding Carlos of his presence, despite everything. Carlos doesn’t know if TK realizes how easily the seas calm when he’s around. Even if he doesn’t know, it’s like he can tell. Has some indescribable sense that something is off, that Carlos needs him. or, promises are kept

must be fireproof (2k)

The worry vanishes – as it always does – the moment Tommy’s door opens, the moment her voice sounds and his husband walks into the room behind her, tired-looking, but so unspeakably beautiful. Carlos will never believe his luck. “Hey babe,” he breathes, wraps arms around TK and squeezes him tight. His body is warm against Carlos’s, the material of his jacket soft under Carlos’s fingers. He rubs TK’s shoulder and feels him sigh into him. TK buries his face in his neck, and for the first time all day, Carlos feels right. a 5x03 coda

when fate cries (67k, ongoing)

An ACL tear, the statement posted a couple days later had read. Carlos would need immediate surgery, and obviously – he would not compete for the USA in London. TK, still coming off the thrill of being named to the team himself, hadn’t been sure how to feel. Carlos had always trained in Texas, and he in New York, so they rarely crossed paths outside of competitions. That’s why he was looking forward to being on the team with him, so sure it was guaranteed. It was practically a given among every coach he talked to. Carlos was a lock. It felt weird to celebrate. Wrong, almost. Carlos should have been with him. They’d both been working for this their entire lives. three years later, the road to rio brings with it far more than redemption

no strings (1.9k)

“I’m going to start cutting back,” Carlos says. “I want to be home more.” “Carlos…” TK starts, and then trails off, not sure what to say, because he wants that, more than anything, but he also knows how important this case is. He knows what all of this means to Carlos, and he would never want to take that from him, but he also knows that he hasn’t been this worried in a very long time. Life lately feels like they’re living it in limbo, like it could all come crashing down at any second. He needs it to change. “Every second I get with you is a gift,” Carlos insists, before he can continue. They’re the strongest words he’s said this whole time. “And I’m done wasting it.” 5x05 spec

a light in the dark (4.1k)

“I love you,” he whispers, even though he knows Carlos can’t hear him. Maybe he does. Maybe it makes it to him, in his dream, wards off a brewing nightmare. He hopes so. It’s hard to believe he almost lost this. Hard to wrap his head around just how close he came to an alternate reality where he’s lying in an empty bed, his entire world pulled out from underneath him. His entire world. TK looks at Carlos in the darkness, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. He brushes their intertwined hands against Carlos’s chest, his knuckles running up against the bandage they wrapped all the way around Carlos’s abdomen, and has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a sob.

coming in 2025 (currently)

grief group au - carlos is a librarian grieving his father's recent death, tk runs a grief support group at the library he works at.

olympics au conclusion - i will finish this asap y'all, i promise. half of it is done, just need to wrap up the other half.

possibly another 5x09 coda - carlos tells andrea about bridges

exes to lovers - don't have anything definite for when, but i can say that this fic is definitely happening next year

leaving an open tag for anyone who wants to share!

[helaegondaily]

paper armor

Helaena and Aegon before Rook's Rest [alternative 'what could have been' scenes series]

Aegon let his attendants out of his room as he stared at himself in the full-length mirror, wearing Aegon the Conqueror's battle-scarred armor. The black iron was scratched in the sword blades of ancient battles, and some spots were singed with dragonfire. Despite his helpers' flattery that it fit him so well, that no other was the right heir to the name than him, he scoffed and ordered them out with an angry edge to his voice.

It has all been the same, since he was crowned. Either the false flattery of those below him or his patronizing council. He was a puppet King, when Alicent and Otto still couldn't trust him to rule his own kingdom.

And his own son was killed when he was in the same fucking castle.

He stared at himself, feeling like nothing more than a paper doll wearing this heavy armor that didn't even fit him that well.

"That does not look good on you at all," a familiar voice behind him said and he flinched in surprise. He didn't turn back to look at her but watched the reflection on the mirror.

Behind him and leaning on the wall was Helaena. She was still wearing her mourning dress, a green so dark it was almost black. He didn't hear her coming here, but it didn't surprise him - she was just like that.

If there was someone here who will tell him the bare truth, it would be her.

They have not even talked at all since their son's murder. Aegon sighed, trying to stop himself from raging. The wine he was drinking did help… but not a lot.

"I know," he said. He started taking it off, starting with the sleeves. It was complicated, finding the clasps and knots to undo so he could take it off. He seethed in annoyance as he tried to remove them.

"Let me help," she said, approaching him. He stayed still as she took off the armor's pieces for him.

"You have… better riding clothes, the black leather one with gold accents fit you better," she said, and it was absurd, that they were talking about something as mundane as riding clothes and not… their dead son.

He only nodded. That did look better on him, and not this one that was too heavy, too big for him. Now, Helaena has removed the armor's parts off his arms, torso, and legs, until he was left in his underclothes. He sighed in relief when the uncomfortable armor was removed from his limbs. He kind of hated himself for it, for trying to fit in something he knew wasn't going to work.

"Let me go with you on my dragon," she said. "I want to… help you fight."

"No! I won't let you. We already lost Jaehaerys," his voice broke in a sob. "I'm not going to lose you."

"Dreamfyre… is angry. For us to win this you need another, more formidable dragon. I can't… I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"You're not for fighting my battles. If Aemond joins with Vhagar -"

"Aegon. Listen to me. I don't trust Aemond this time at all."

"Why, Helaena? You know he is loyal to me. What reason does he have to betray me?"

"I don't know, Aegon. But I feel it so strongly. I want to tell you not to go."

"You know what I have to do," Aegon said, and Helaena was already resigned. This will go on, in one way or another, and it has a chance not to end well…

"I know," she said.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison, and both looked down from their own abrupt words.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I'm the one who failed you," he said.

"I led him to his death, Aegon! I… just stood there, and…" she's sobbing now, wiping her tears away with the long sleeve of her gown. Aegon held her arm, and awkwardly pulled her close to him. She doesn't quite know what to do with her hands, at this sudden, gentle, unexpected gesture.

"Look at me," he said, touching her face as her tears still fell. "You did what you could do at that moment."

"It's not your fault. I have to avenge him… never blame yourself, it was Rhaenyra and her Blacks. That is why I have to go and fight."

"Then let me go with you. They would not expect me. Aemond would be confident to go against you with Vhagar, but he will hesitate when he sees that I've joined. Meleys - we can take her down. Together," she said.

He nodded. He agreed, it could be done, and her presence would be unexpected and will disrupt any plan their enemies might have ready. They moved in sync, almost intuitive when flying. Aegon knew that if they fought together, it won't be easy on their enemies.

"Then tell me, how would we do it?"

They might just win. Together.

[stormyoceans]

I FEEL COMPLETELY NORMAL ABOUT THEM

YEAH NO TOTALLY SAME HERE IM LIKE. SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM IT'S HONESTLY INSANE HOW NORMAL AND HINGED AND SANE AND FINE AND CHILL AND EMOTIONALLY STABLE AND ABSOLUTELY NOT DERANGED AT ALL I AM ABOUT THEM

and like this is what i mean when i say they always put their entire jimm-ussy and se-ussy into everything they do!!!!!!! i mean this wasn't the actual show, and even if they were recreating scenes from it, it would have been perfectly understandable if they chose not to go all out, especially when they had a whole almost 4 hours long concert to go through, but that's simply not how jimmysea work!!!!!!! doesn't matter if it's the actual series or an MV or a fan meet or a concert or a silly random question in an interview, they will take that shit seriously and give their best!!!!!!!

and the way they recreated both this scene and the one from ep 9 where day fully loses his sight are a perfect example of all of this!!!!!! they didn't hold back one bit and the emotions they delivered were so intense i honestly have no idea how they were able to channel them on the spot like that LIKE!!!!!!!!

OUTSERVED OUTSELLED OUTSLAYED OUTACTED OUTPERFORMED OUTDELIVERED OUTEVERYTHINGED!!!!!!!!!

BUT AS WE'VE PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED IM JUST SOOOOO NORMAL ABOUT ALL OF THIS I DEFINITELY DO NOT FEEL LIKE SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP BLOOD EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THEM

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[iid-smile]

★ — doing the 'we listen and we don't judge' challenge with bllk boys!

isagi, bachira, karasu, nagi, rin, chigiri

content — maybe ooc especially for karasu, nagi is a red flag, underwear mentioned in karasu's, bachira is gross (please beware) 😧

a/n: not my idea, but i dont know if i should tag or not 🫣 trying to write out what im imagining in my head is the WORST so pls bare with me 🙏🙏 also there might be mistakes bc my grammar is shit

★ — isagi yoichi

"you know how we were playing mario kart the other day?" his thumbs twirl around each other amid his struggle to make eye contact with you. he's always felt bad lying to your face, but that specific time, he didn't really lie, only hid it from you. "and you lost really bad on that one map?"

at least it's better than what you were expecting. you've seen some couples break up over this trend despite being picture-perfect, and you didn't want to be victim to that curse either. "uh huh..." you nod.

"i searched up where the best shortcuts were and spent three hours every day for a month practicing speed runs."

"nooooo!" your hand lands on his as disbelief washes over you. "baby, why would you do that?" betrayal. betrayal. your own boyfriend has kept something like this a secret for how long?

"i'm sorry!" was it selfish to admit that some weight was lifted off his shoulders too? or that he's actually done that with the majority of the maps? no, he won't say that. "i just—"

"that's my favourite map too..." you pout up at him. you weren't actually that upset, but you knew that looking the part would earn you some cuddles and kisses, which you were craving right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry." his arms wrap around you as he whispers out soft apologies, his lips pressing on your temple. "i'll teach you what i know, okay?"

★ — bachira meguru

"we listen and we don't—"

"i dropped your toothbrush in the toilet three times in a row and i didn't clean it afterwards."

"..."

"what?" bachira's eyebrows raise in confusion, slightly cutting out of the frame as his feet fiddle around as he plays with the electric yellow tips of his hair. "oh! also once there was no toilet paper, but i really really needed to dookie, and only your towel was there, so..."

oh, you don't even want to touch him. or yourself. or anything at this rate. mind you, that event happened yesterday, not a long time ago. "seriously!?"

"what?" his innocent act strikes again, looking at you with big eyes as you struggle to wrap your head around whatever he's just said. and why the hell are they all linked to the bathroom? is that why he spends hours in there at a time?

"you told me that was chocolate!" you gasp, the walls guarding over the truth crumbling down all at once.

"some of it was, yeah. i think i'm lactose intolerant."

oh, god...

★ — karasu tabito

"what, i just say something i've never told you?" karasu muses, his eyes on you rather than the camera as he leans on the kitchen counter, head nestled on his fist.

he hums mindlessly, mind reeling through memories. what hasn't he told you? the words 'i can't think of anything' remain on the tip of his tongue, but after a while, his eyebrows twitch. it was certainly something, but that's what you wanted, right?

"i've worn your underwear once... i think." he admits, acting like that was an ordinary thing to say.

um... what? "what do you mean 'you think'?" in your 'rage', you feebly punch at his chest, only for it to be caught with ease by him.

he knows full well that he could overpower you if he wanted to, but he lets you have your fun, or frustration, pushing back on your hands with equal strength. "no, no, you said no questions." he chuckles, finding your efforts to fight back adorable.

"but—!"

"that's your rule, not mine."

★ — nagi seishiro

"we listen and we don't—" you tug on the sleeve of nagi's hoodie, trying to coax him into sitting up. "sei, at least try to look at the camera."

for a few seconds, there's a few mumbled 'no...'s from him, as well as your near desperate pleas for him to at least attempt to do something for you for once. every time you want to do a cute or funny tiktok trend with him, it's always a struggle for to get up, or in most cases, listen to you at all.

right when you least expect it, he has his response. "i used to hate you a lot. maybe still do. there. are we done?"

your jaw immediately drops. "sei, you can't just..." you're hurt, confused, conflicted and... now you don't know what to do. should you continue? should you cut the video and ask for him to explain himself?

"that's what you wanted me to say." his voice perks up from behind you as he plops onto his back again. the sound of his game fills your ears once more as you're still stunned in silence, only for him to pour more salt onto the wound. "or do you want me to continue?"

yeah, you are not posting this.

★ — itoshi rin

rin blinks at you in confusion as you try to break down the trend to him, his eyes unusually wide as they remained trained on yours. he's just so lost, because why would he ever want to say something mean directly to you just for a funny video?

once it's his turn, you have to give him a little nudge, signalling that it's his turn. honestly, he doesn't even know what to do, even after your little demonstration before him.

he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, but nothing comes to mind. "i like it when you wear my jerseys."

you almost wanted to melt from how cute his tiny confession was right then and there. you inferred as much, but hearing him say it out loud "that's not something i can judge, rin."

"i don't really have anything to say." his gaze drifts around the room, landing on the camera for a split second before looking away.

scoffing, your body turns towards him. how does he not? "you judge me all the time!" you blurt out, remembering all of the times you've been a target of his foul mouth.

"that's because you're weird. sometimes."

"sometimes— you know what, it's better than what i've heard you say to certain people." literally everybody he knows fits under the 'certain people' umbrella.

★ — chigiri hyoma

you were a little scared, because chigiri seemed a bit too on board with the idea. knowing him, he's got a lot of stuff to say, bad or worse. hell, he could insult your entire existence and that would be the genuine truth, based on the gossip you've had together, but he's not that mean to you. right?

he looks you dead in the eye. "i've made a pros and cons list about you five times, and the last one was a week ago."

"hyo!" you immediately exclaim, playfully pushing his side. not as bad as you were expecting, but it certainly stung.

he simply shrugs his shoulders. "i mean, there wasn't any cons the last time, so..." you both stare at each other, and his lips thin into a straight line, pulling off the most unbothered expression that he could.

"you're lying." and he's never been a good liar either.

ignoring you, he turns back to the camera, somehow managing to hold back his giggles as he refuses to elaborate. "we listen and we don't—"

"chigiri hyoma."

"we listen and— ow!" the video cuts off with you delivering a barrage of hits against his arm. don't worry, they were all light and they didn't hurt; as you claim, not him.

[neovillains]

GINGERBREAD HOUSE | NANAMI KENTO

syn. nanami never made himself to be a jack of all trades, but he thought building a gingerbread house would be this difficult.

── nanami kento & fem-bodied!reader, established relationship, slight food play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, heavy doting & lots of kissing, sickeningly sweet & loving smut | 4.0k words ( minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact )

note. this was my submission for my cookbook collaboration. . . please take this as an apology.

He squinted heavily as he held the piping bag, constantly shifting and moving his hold on it as he tried to remain steady. Heart racing as he held his breath, he glanced your way. You were well-concentrated at the task at hand as well, eyebrows knitted together as your tongue poked out. Your piping bag held accurately as you’re already on the next side of the gingerbread house, the semi-circular shingles of the roof perfectly aligned with white frosting. How are you doing it so perfectly? 

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say. You didn’t need to look at Nanami's way to feel the tense air, how his hands trembled and practically shook the table, calling you to be extra careful in this friendly competition. 

You had bought two sets of gingerbread houses, elated when you saw them at the store while grocery shopping a couple of days ago. You didn’t think twice about it then, coming home to spark up the idea of seeing who can make better gingerbread houses. You knew that Nanami was always down for whatever, making sure to align time in his schedule to accommodate you, his lovely wife. 

Initially when he agreed, he didn’t think it could be so hard to decorate huge chunks of cookie, thinking it would be an easy challenge. And he would never admit it to anyone, but he did have a competitive side to him. You knew that, even though he always tried to deny it, so seeing him now, struggling over something and the anxiety of possibly losing protruding off of him, was quite comical. “Just… relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nanami grumbles, a vein running along his forehead as his face reddened from absentmindedly holding his breath. “Yours looks perfect.” 

There it is, you giggled to yourself, a devious smile on your face as you kept your eyes on your gingerbread house. You had to admit to yourself, it was coming out better than you initially thought it would. You don’t blame your husband for his envy— not one bit. However, you wouldn’t be a good wife if you gloated, but then again, no couple was perfect. “It is, isn’t it?”

Finally, you look over at your husband’s side of the table, taking in the horrendous sight that is his gingerbread house. You had to swallow back your laughter as your eyes slightly bulged out. He had gotten it to stand on the four walls, but it was lopsided. It was as though if you were to blow on it with one huff, it would fall down. The icing was in disarray, deeply contrasting from your tidy and curved strokes, as his went in every which direction they wanted to and most of it was smudged. It was a disastrous sight that Hansel and Gretel would never step foot into. 

“Yours, on the otherhand…” You trail off with a playful grimace, biting on your bottom lip as you dragged out a “hmmmmm…”

Nanami dropped his piping bag down at your teasing, face falling in a deadpan expression that wanted to crack when he saw you trying to hold in your laughter. The corners of his lips curved up as he crossed his arms. “I’m starting to think you wanted me to fail.”

You faltered, a grin plastered on your face as your nose scrunched up. “No, I didn’t.”

There was some truth in your admittance. You never started this to see Nanami be bad at it, only wanting to draw out that competitive nature he subdued so much. You enjoyed seeing the fire in his eyes when he felt like he was going to win, how he’d get so motivated to do something. However, he was also a cute sore loser and he’d silently sulk throughout the day because of his loss. But, most of all, you just wanted to spend some quality time with your husband as the holidays drew near and his work days became longer. Building these gingerbread houses together was a way to be together. 

“Mmm,” Nanami hums in faux pondering as he draws near you, caging you against the table. “No, I think you did.”

You set down your piping bag next on the table, feeling Nanami’s hands pull you into him as you giggle, shaking your head in protest. “No, you’re just bad at this.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, still questioning your true intentions. One hand slithers away from your waist, reaching further behind you to swipe away at your frosting. You watch his actions, gasping as he messes up your fine work. You push at his chest, watching how he sucks off his fingers with a hearty chuckle despite your “hey!” You pout as your husband tries to go for another swipe, but you slap away his hand just in time. “Just because your work is botched, doesn’t mean you can make mine the same.”

“Don’t worry,” Nanami hums. “I’ll fix it back for you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he snickers. “Oh, you mean, you’ll just ruin it even more. No, thanks.”

“What are we even supposed to do with them afterwards? Eat them?” Nanami asks, not used to your western customs.

“No,” you snort. “Throw them away. Gingerbread houses taste disgusting.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “So, you just bought these to let them get on my nerves and then throw them away?”

“I love it when you get all whiny,” you comment, before shaking your head. “But, no. I bought them because I thought it would be a fun thing to do. I didn’t expect you to fail so badly.”

“Y’know, you could’ve sugarcoated it a bit,” Nanami frowns, leaning into you, his breath dancing against your skin. “Make me feel like I didn’t do half as bad as I actually did.”

“I could’ve,” you frown, meeting him halfway, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. “‘M sorry.”

“You’re all forgiven,” Nanami chuckles. He loves the taste of you against his lips, how when he reaches up to caress your face, it melds so well into his hands, like you’re just the perfect fit. He loves how you just melt into him no matter what, putting in all the trust in him that he’ll keep you afloat. Whenever he kisses you, he feels whole— like both of you are sharing one breath. 

He pulls you closer into him, hands wrapped around your waist, tugging at the silk fabric of your robe, bunching it up together as he grips you tightly. Your nails dig through the cotton of his t-shirt, arms wrapped around his neck as you meet his love with your lips. You sigh in contempt, tasting the sweetness of the frosting on his tongue as he explores you. It pulls a moan from your tantalizing lips, making him want more in a matter of seconds the longer the two of you stay like this. 

And he feels like the sun in your arms, the heat of his skin wrapped around you like a comfortable weighted blanket. They hold you with security, even as they begin to travel down your body. The palm of his hands are smooth, fingers behind your lower thigh before hoisting your leg up to his waist. Nanami grounds himself into you, his growing erection becoming more prominent with the seconds passing. You’re so willing to reciprocate your name, hips bucking into him as your nails dig continue digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

Nanami hoists you up on the table, fingers digging into your lower back as he becomes needier for you as he leans further into you. You nearly lose your balance, hands hitting Nanami’s ruined art and tumbling down. Both of you retract and you can’t hold back the snort that leaves you while Nanami playfully rolls his eyes. “You just had to go and make it worse.”

“It’s your fault,” you giggle, bringing your hand to taste the frosting that’s got on you. Nanami watches carefully, watching how your tongue sticks out sucking off the sweet and white dessert off of your fingers. It has his cock twitching inside of his pants, wanting nothing more than to have you right on this table. Instead, however, he nips at your bottom lip, his brown eyes hooded. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Chaste little kisses that traverse from the corner of your lips to your cheeks and down to the nape of your neck, each one filled with his love and need for you as he takes more time with each one. He adjusts the bonnet on your head, moving it out of his way as he hyper-fixates on this one particular spot. Your breathing becomes staggered, a moan being pulled from your lips as your grip on your husband tightens. “Is— Is this my pr-prize… for winning?”

He creates a dark blotched spot on your delicate skin, prideful of his marvelous work as he pulls away. He inhales you, his nose drawing a line to the crevice of your breasts, smelling the faint scent of the twisted peppermint body mist that you sprayed on in the early morning after stepping out of the shower. He finds everything about you addicting, finds every nook and cranny of your body to be a perfection that he’s been blessed to have. He’s not ignoring you on purpose, so caught up in everything that’s you that he’s momentarily forgotten what was even asked. “It could,” he hums. “If you want it to be.”

“I’d like it to,” you breathe. 

“Then, I better do a good job, huh?” Nanami chuckles, retreating back to your cleavage. His fingers play with the silky string of your robe before it falls with the rest of the garment, the sleeves of it slipping off of your shoulders, revealing your bare upper body to be marveled by your husband. He creates dark blotches in your skin, covering them in his love marks as he takes his precious time. Arousal pools from you, and with your lack of clothing and certainly your lack of underwear, it drips from your sweet cunt down to the fabric underneath as it remains untouched for the time being. 

You remain as salacious as you’ve been since the first time he’s tasted you, lips wrapping around your left areola, tonguing at your dark nub with such a dangerous need that you fear you might lactate. He always finds himself enamored with your body, where he could spend hours if you allowed him, fixated with a specific area. For an ample amount of time, his lips jump from one breast to another to create sweet hickeys and plastering his love onto your nipples— kissing, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin before you have to forcefully pry him off you.

“Kento…” you whine, finally managing to pull him away. Gently connecting foreheads, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, a sweet one that lasts for a mere couple of seconds before you’re retracting once more. “Kento…”

“What?” he grumbles, his voice coarse as he frowns. “Why won’t my wife let me love on her?”

“Because your wife has other places she wants to be loved on, too,” you pout, lolling your head to the side. 

“Have I ever told you that patience is a virtue?” Nanami hums, pulling at your bottom lip with his. You can’t help but nudge him.

“Yeah, and too much can hurt you,” you retort. “So, I don’t think it’s best to keep me waiting much longer.”

He snorts at your rebuttal, but giving into your needs nonetheless as he drops to his knees, spreading your legs open wider for him and shifting your robe out of the way to reveal your beautiful pussy. Oh, how it glistens with your love for him, your juices decorating your folds in something sweeter than the gumdrops and candy-coated chocolate pieces laying in bowls. His painfully hard cock sitting in his pants stirs in need for you as he drags your hips closer to the edge of the table. A whisper comes out, “You’re so wet for me.”

“Aren’t I always,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip as you shimmy your hips closer to him in anticipation. 

In every moment that he spends with you, Nanami cherishes it, always thinking that he’s the luckiest guy to have a partner that is as amazing as you. He holds so much love for you that it’s suffocating. A deep fire that settles on his chest, where times like these are detrimental. You have to catch yourself, nearly screaming out in fright when Nanami pulls you down to give your cunt a taste. Your heart races from the quick scare as well as the feeling of the wet pink muscle that glides against your clit. The dark nub that pulsates in its pleasure as Nanami has a tight hold on you, leaving you secure in his arms. 

He’s so gentle with your pussy, the way he laps at it. Soft and tandem kisses placed with the utmost care before his tongue dives in between your folds, loving the way your juices pour out on his tongue. You’re insatiable, your pussy calling out his name as he plants feverish kisses on it. He salivates, further lubricating your cunt as he hums and moans against you. He ignores the ache in his knees, the pain of the marble tiles already biting him in the ass. 

Your moans are high-pitched and proving to be torture to your dear husband’s erection as precum leaks from his urethra, the tip of it rubbing against the cotton restraints of his boxer briefs. Your body struggles to decide what it wants, twisting and squirming but ultimately wanting more. Your arms grow weak as you try to find leverage, this time knocking down your own gingerbread house as you hear the pieces beginning to fall. Hand covered in frosting, you’re about to wipe it off on the table when you feel Nanami’s strong arms wrap around your waist, retracting his lips from you. 

“Don’t,” he says, taking your hand and putting it to his lips. The sultry sight only continues to make your pussy salivate, your slick dribbling down in a web pointed towards the ground as you watch Nanami clean you off, only leaving a wet trail of his spit behind. A ‘fuck’ falls from you as your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you buck your hips out. The action sparks an idea in Nanami’s mind, his piping bag reaching lengths where he only has to stretch out and grab it without much effort. 

Your eyes follow him, where the moment it’s in his hands, you can already see the gears shifting inside of his mind. Nanami fixes you back on the table, a few drops of frosting hitting the ground before letting out a sigh. “Lay down for me?”

All it takes is a quick nod from you before Nanami’s helping you lay down, shifting the confectionate houses aside to have you well situated, guiding you to lay down without hitting your head or anything stabbing you in your back.

With the piping bag in hand, he raises it as the contents continue to drip and fall down, making a mess that’ll wait to be cleaned up. You can’t help but giggle, smiling as you peer up at your husband. “Y’sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

“For someone who wants her prize,” Nanami starts, “You’re sure working on losing it fast.”

“You wouldn’t dare stop.”

“I would.” He doesn’t however, using the piping bag to draw horrible art against your bare skin. It tickles, making your body flex and contract when the frosting touches you. You can’t control the small giggles and laughs that fall from your lips. And it’s so contagious as Nanami can’t help but join in with you. He’s painted a masterpiece in his eyes, drawing the shape of you as white traverses from your lips to the shape of your breasts down to your thighs. You look marvelous in his eyes, only a treat waiting to be devoured in its fullest glory. He feels like a god with you being his pretty little offering, prepped by his people. 

The wooden table creaks with his weight, leaning down to capture you. The frosting smudges, his tongue reaching to eat the delicacy. It’s a messy sight, one that an artist would be captivated to capture on their canvas, watching how Nanami inches downward. Your hands go to tangle themselves in his blonde locks, massaging his scalp as he creates more darkened artwork into your neck. 

The salt of your skin mixed with the sweet sugar is a combination perfection as he goes and goes further down your body. He grabs at your thighs, the frosting that covers them sticking to him but not something he’ll fret about now as he grounds himself against your wet pussy. And when he’s truly satisfied, believing that he’s baptized you in his spit, the white that contrasts the skin of your upper thighs still waits to be devoured. They’re clean in a matter of seconds as Nanami’s patience wears thin, your legs back open as the vulnerable are exposed to his taking. Some of the frosting has found its way to the curls of your pubes, which Nanami has no shame in wiping clean. He takes a moment to inhale you, his nose nuzzling into the warmth of you before kissing your clit.

“Gosh,” he groans. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

You bring yourself to sit up as Nanami comes back to his feet. He strips himself of the t-shirt, the excess frosting making a mess of his face in the process. Before he can get himself out of his pants, you’re pulling him by the back of his neck. Your tongue sticks out, swiping at the grains of frosting on his cheek. “So are you.”

You suck the air out of him, always managing to have stars form in his eyes. These subtle things that you’re not aware of all the time, whether it’s something as mundane as cooking dinner or now, where you have somehow managed to one-up him at his own game. He’s completely bare in a matter of seconds, panting pooling at his feet before he’s kicking them off and his cock springs free. His tip is red in need as his length stands prominent against his abdomen. His tip kisses your clit before it pokes at your entrance.

“C’mon, Kento.” Your hands tremble in anticipation, where you have to hold your weight using your elbows. 

“You’re so impatient, doll,” he breathes. Despite the statement, the head of cock is quick to push through your entrance, making you mewl out from the stretch. No matter how many times he’s been sheathed inside of you, you’re as tight as the day he first had you. Your juices make it easy with each and every push of his length inside of you, not stopping until his pelvis meets yours. He has to take a moment to bask in your heart, how your sweet pussy envelopes his cock in a vice grip that’s addicting and never making him want to leave.

Your legs wrap around his waist, making him go deeper inside of you, finally pulling him away from your pussy enchantment. Retracting his hips until only the tip is in you, he thrusts back inside. His movement is languid, cock digging sweetly into your walls. Your head falls back as your hips roll in a deep need for him. Your back arches off the table as your mouth falls into the shape of an ‘O.’ Each thrust is a calculated one, careful as he wants you to memorize his love by the way he moves his cock. From shallow ones that have you begging for more to deep thrusts that hit that special spot inside, having you squeak out your moans. “Kento…”

He pulls you to sit up, your chest pressing against his as he hikes up one leg to the table, getting deeper and deeper within you. His forehead touches yours, nose meeting nose as your breaths dance together. His brown eyes stare into your glossy ones, a deep need for each other being shared as you hold eye contact. “Yes, my love? Am I upholding my promise to you?”

You nod, a stray tear dropping down onto the dark wood. “Y-Yes,” you cry. “You always make me feel so good. I—I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” He asks, to which you nod again. “I love you, too. So much more, in fact.”

You want to negate his statement, but he captures you for a kiss to silent you. He knows you all too well, swallowing away the thought from your mind completely as he fucks you on his cock.  Arms wrapped around him, you grind your hips down as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach. Butterflies dance around in there as you feel your cunt pulsate, squeezing Nanami’s length at your impending orgasm. You mewl against his lips, not having to say a word to signal what’s to come. He can feel himself approaching as well, your near orgasm always calling for him to join alongside you whenever he’s inside you. 

His thrusts grow rougher, bringing your hips down with force as he chases for euphoria. Your body tenses up, feeling that band snap as you cry out against his lips. Finally, Nanami pulls away as you cream around his cock. 

“Kento,” you cry, repeating his name like a mantra as you can’t find any other word besides it. 

“I got you, my love,” Nanami pants as you paint the base of his cock in a milky white as his cock twitches inside of you, spilling his seed in the depths of you. The smooth rhythm becomes sloppy as he rides out his high inside of you before pulling out and having you rest on the table. When your heartbeat slows and the hearts from your eyes dissipate being brought back to reality, you feel Nanami’s head against your chest. You can feel it, his copious amount of cum dripping out of you, smearing against Nanami’s skin. You moan at the loss as your hands travel to Nanami’s blonde hair. 

From your peripheral vision, you can see your work shoved to the far corner of the table as you remember what exactly sparked this chain of events. It reminds you of how in Nanami’s misery, you might’ve had an unfair trick right up your sleeves. Reverting your eyes, your finger combs through his hair as a sigh leaves you. It sparks Nanami's concern, picking up his head to glance at you. “Something on your mind so soon, or are you just basking in the present?”

“If I’m being honest,” you gnaw on your bottom lips, eyes averting Nanami’s at your soon confession. “I did practice with the piping bag while you were at work.”

You were expecting for him to be shocked, perhaps a bit mad at your “cheating,” but if anything, Nanami wasn’t either of those. Instead, with a gentle nod, he hums. “I expected much.”

“You did?” your eyes widen. “How?”

“Babe, you couldn’t icing a cake two weeks ago,” Nanami deadpans. “You’re expecting me to believe that you mastered the talent miraculously?” 

“Hey!” you playfully slap at his chest. “I could’ve just been lucky today!”

Nanami shakes his head, silently telling you, not a chance, before looking over at your gingerbread house. It’s tumbled into pieces for sure, but some of your work doesn’t go under-appreciated by the mess. 

“Now, that I’m looking closer,” he smirks. “It doesn’t look as good as I had originally thought it did.”

“Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” You pull your arms from around him, crossing them around your chest. Nanami chuckles, nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would just start fucking you again, darling.”

( 🛢 ) : @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network @satsattoru

[theosbaby]

helping hand

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! the guys find out that enzo is still a virgin and they keep bothering him about it, so he asks for your help.

WARNINGS ! friends to lovers, use of y/n (just once i think), loss of virginity, SMUT, virgin!lorenzo, sub!lorenzo, dom!reader, mutual masturbation, p in v, lots of praising, neck grabbing, hair pulling, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. yes, i have read filthy and i know lorenzo isn't innocent at all, but i wanted to portray him like that for this one, hope you like it!

lorenzo was your best friend, he had been since you both were a couple of tweens and met at the hogwarts express on your first year. you remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. he had bumped into you, which made you drop your chocolate frog to the ground, after that, he immediately apologized and bought you the whole honeydukes trolley as an apology; at that moment, you swore to yourself you would never let him go.

and seven years later, he was the most important person in your life.

as every friday night, lorenzo and you were having a sleepover in your dormroom. that night, pansy, your roommate, was out on a date with some dude and you had the room all to yourselves. you were lying in your bed, enzo next to you. a film was playing, but you were having trouble to focus on it since enzo kept moving; he looked uneasy, which was really rare to be honest, lorenzo was the calmest guy in the whole wizarding world.

you couldn't possibly imagine what was going on in that pretty head of his.

truth is, the week before, the rest of the guys had discovered that enzo was still a virgin and they had been teasing him about it nonstop since then, which had already started to seriously bother him. at first, maybe you could say it was funny, but after eight days of constant jokes, it was not funny anymore.

you sighed, finally deciding to ask him what was going through his mind.

"lorenzo," you called him, using his full name, which you rarely did, "is something wrong? you seem off today..."

enzo looked away, clearly trying to avoid your eyes, and you frowned; that was the confirmation you needed to know that something was not fine, he never averted your gaze like that.

"nothing, just... dealing with some stress." he answered, dodging the subject. when he saw your unpleased look, he added, "it's not a big deal, seriously. don't worry about it."

"cmon, enzo..." you said, reaching to cup his cheek and force him to look at you, "i know you like the palm of my hand and i know something's bothering you."

you smiled reassuringly at him, pausing the film to focus fully on the conversation, then you added, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

enzo's cheeks blushed slightly, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked at you, clearly hesitating whether he should tell you or not.

"you wouldn't... you wouldn't think any less of me, would you?" he asked and you saw a hint of vulnerability in his light brown irises.

you frowned as you looked at him, caressing his cheek softly; his attitude was making you really worried.

"of course not, enzo... you're my best friend," you told him with a soft and sweet voice, trying to get him to open to you.

he nodded slowly, leaning into your touch; he found comfort in your presence, it had always been that way. taking a deep breath, enzo finally confessed.

"well... it's just that... the guys found out i'm still a virgin and they've been teasing me about it all week." as he talked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"that's it?" you asked, chuckling as your worried expression visibly softened. "they're a bunch of idiots... just ignore them," you reassured him, your hand moving up to stroke his soft hair.

enzo managed to let out a small laugh, his expression softening at your comment too.

"yeah, i know..." he muttered, his eyes fixed in yours as he thought of his next words, "but it's hard not to let it get to me when they treat me like some sort of joke."

"hey, don't say that..." you replicated, your brow furrowed as you heard his words. "there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

he nodded, agreeing with you, while his eyes drifted back to the paused movie on the screen. despite your words, he still seemed a bit troubled. you were definitely going to beat the guys up the next time you saw them for making enzo feel so bad about something completely normal and natural.

"i know that... i can't help but feel self-conscious about it though," he said, then elaborated, "I mean, everyone else seems to be... well, you know."

"experienced?" you asked, finishing his sentence.

you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his; you wanted to make him feel better. he looked down at your intertwined fingers and sighed softly.

"yeah... experienced." he nodded while he talked. "it's not like i haven't tried to lose my virginity or anything; it's just never been the right time or person, i guess."

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze when you heard his words, smiling at how sweet he was. enzo was simply the perfect guy, the perfect friend, and you were sure someday he'd be the perfect boyfriend.

"you'll get there eventually, trust me," you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. "just don't overthink it, okay?"

lorenzo smiled back, clearly more relaxed now that had confided in you. his fingers tightened slightly around yours as he rested his head on top of yours.

"i know, thanks for listening, darling."

"always, enzo." you kissed his cheek briefly. "and if they bother you again about it, just let me know, i'll gladly hit them," you added, laughing.

"you would do that for me?" he looked at you, his expressive eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"i'd do anything for you," you answered honestly, smiling warmly at him.

it was the truest thing you had ever told him; there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't sacrifice for him. he was just worth it. your words seemed to awake something in him, you could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he stared at you intently.

"really? anything?" his voice deepened a bit, his eyes still locked onto yours. "can i ask you something then?"

"of course silly, anything," you replied, letting out a nervous laugh as his intense gaze made you feel butterflies in your belly.

"would you..." he swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. "would you maybe... want to be my first?"

your breath hitched when you heard his proposal, your heart started racing in your chest. for a second, you thought that you could be dreaming, so you pinched yourself; the pain you felt confirmed that your were, in fact, not sleeping.

"enzo, are you sure about that?" you questioned, unsure if he was saying it seriously or not. "we've just talked about that, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin," you repeated.

"i know, darling." he bite his lower lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "but i can't stop thinking about it... and i'd really like it to be with you."

"really?" you gasped in surprise, nipping at your bottom lip to try and hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

you loved enzo; not the kind of love you feel for a brother, though, you were in love with him, and you had tried to convince yourself otherwise for a long time, because you thought your feelings weren't reciprocated, but now... he was in front of you, asking you to be his first, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to ignore your feelings anymore.

"you aren't just doing it out of social pressure?"

you wanted to make sure he was not feeling pressured to do it; you wanted him to do it only if he finally felt ready to take that step.

"no, i mean it," he said, blushing shyly. "i really want it to be with you, y/n. you're so beautiful, and kind, and smart. i've had a crush on you for years."

his admission made your heart skip a beat; you thought you were going to faint right there and then. your thoughts were all over the place, your mind racing as you looked at him, but there was just one thing that you knew for sure; you were dying to kiss him... so you did.

"then, i guess it can be arranged," you whispered, reaching to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, one that was very sweet at first.

enzo's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on your hips. he gasped softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you took control of the kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tug at it, slipping your tongue in his mouth; the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

his hands moved slowly but surely down to the small of your back, gently pressing against your lower back and pulling you even closer to him. you slightly moaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of his soft lips.

"you taste so good, enzo," you muttered between kisses, not pulling back at any moment.

your hand moved down his neck, gripping at it, which made enzo gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue became bolder in your mouth. he could feel himself getting hard, the rush of blood making him dizzy.

he was practically on top of you at that point, so you pushed him gently until he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and you straddled his lap, leaning in to resume the kissing. quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close a he possibly could. one of his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards slowly; the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin gave you goosebumps.

"you want me to take this off, baby?" you asked, breaking the kiss, as you started toying with the hem of your top.

lorenzo looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please… take it off."

you smirked, grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it off your body. since you were not wearing a bra, you breasts were now completely exposed under his intense gaze. his eyes darkened as he saw your boobs for the first time; they were perfect, just like the rest of you.

"have you ever touched a girl, enzo?" you questioned, a sweet tone to your voice.

he swallowed hard, his hands aching to touch you, and answered, "no, i haven't."

"don't be shy, baby," you whispered with a smile, grabbing his hands to encourage him to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. "like this."

enzo stared at your face closely, his eyes filled with lust as he mimicked your action, his hands squeezing both your boobs gently. his thumbs brushed against your little nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"you're beautiful," he breathed out, completely stunned at your beauty.

you gasped slightly, your cheeks flushing as a heat wave washed over your body; your panties growing wetter by the second. the way he touched you, as if he was worshipping your body, was a huge turn on.

"thank you, baby," you muttered, squirming in his lap.

enzo moaned softly as he felt your body grinding against his hard length. he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he went. you let out a cute whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, caressing it tenderly; he groaned against your skin as he began to suck at the hard nub gently.

his hand moved down between your legs and he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties; you felt his digits rubbing hesitantly over your pussy, as if he didn't know what to do with them next.

"enzo," you gasped at his action, tugging at his hair tenderly. "you have never done that before, right?" you chuckled as you you caressed his face.

lorenzo blushed slightly and shook his head slowly, still teasing your sensitive skin with his fingers. his eyes locked onto yours as he whispered back, "no... i have not."

"let me show you how to do it properly, yeah?" you said with a sweet voice, grabbing his hand to pull it out of your panties.

then, you got off his lap, sitting next to him as you pushed your shorts and underwear down your legs, finally exposing your pussy. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw you completely bare for the first time. he reached out tentatively, tracing a finger along your upper thigh.

your hand moved down to cup your pussy, your fingers gently parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit in circles, teaching him how you liked it; you couldn't help but gasp at the touch.

"just like this, see?" you asked, looking at him with glazed eyes.

enzo's eyes darkened as he watched you touch yourself; you looked so vulnerable and exposed, yet so sexy. when you withdrew your hand, he replaced your fingers with his, mirroring your movements as he started rubbing your clit in small circles.

"fuck yeah, like that..." you muttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your hips bucked forward. "doing so good for me, enzo," you praised.

he groaned at your praise as he watched you writhing at his touch. his dick was rock hard in his pants and he wished more than anything that he could slide it into your tight pussy right away.

you reached next to you to push his sweatpants down his thighs, just enough to free his erection. he arched his back slightly to help you and his hard cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach. you bit your lower lip, your mouth watering when you saw his dick; he was really big.

"can i touch you, baby?" you asked, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns over his abs.

enzo's breath hitched at your touch. his abs flexed slightly under your fingertips as he nodded eagerly. when he gave you his permission, you grabbed his length in your hand gently, pumping it slowly at first.

he groaned at your touch, leaning back against the headboard as you began to stroke his cock, his fingers still rubbing your soaked pussy. his eyes were half-closed as he watched you move your hand up and down.

"that feels so good, darling," he muttered.

you moaned in response when his digits picked up speed, pressing down your swollen clit and making you squirm in pleasure. your chest raised and fell quickly as you gasped for air.

he smirked as he felt your body respond to his touch, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that you returned instantly. his tongue slipped inside your mouth as his hand slid down your slit, searching for your entrance; he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your wetness coat his digits as he began to thrust them in and out.

you whined, involuntarily breaking the contact between your lips, and your face scrunched in pleasure. your hand moved faster as it stroke his cock, your thumb teasing his tip, that was leaking precum.

he groaned, his mouth finding your neck. his free hand slid up to cup your breast, massaging it gently as he continued to finger fuck you. he was already close to cumming, all the new sensations overwhelming him, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible.

"enzo, fuck," you cursed, your pussy tightening around his fingers when you felt the coil in your belly about to snap. "such a good boy... making me feel so good."

you gasped, your pumps becoming sloppier as you approached your orgasm. enzo's breath hitched at your praising words, hips bucking against your hand, unable to contain himself any longer.

"please, love... let me inside you," he begged between breathy moans, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder.

"how do you want me, baby?" you asked in a whisper, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

enzo nipped at his lower lip, he didn't even have to think his answer. "i want you to ride me," he muttered as he looked into your eyes, his own glazed with lust.

you gasped when he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a smirk tugging at your lips as you said, "whatever you want, baby."

you released his cock from your grasp to climb onto his lap. enzo's breath caught in his throat when you straddled him, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder with anticipation; he almost came on the spot. his hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you grabbed his cock and placed the tip against your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto it. you couldn't help but moan as you took his big cock inside you. once he was fully seated within your pussy, you stood still for a moment to get used to the new intrusion.

"how does that feel, my pretty boy?" you asked, leaning in to nuzzle his neck affectionately.

he groaned, his hands moving to cup your ass as he began to instinctively thrust up into you. it felt so perfect, so right, like every inch of him belonged inside you.

"it feels so good," he whispered in your ear, his breathing ragged.

"yeah... it does," you agreed, starting to ride him slowly at first; his cock reached all the right spots inside you so easily. "it's like your dick was fucking made for me, enzo," you moan, your breathing growing uneven.

he shuddered as he bucked up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you were sure he would leave bruises. you were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

you smirked as you saw him so helpless underneath your body while you rode him. you reached to tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck at his neck, leaving some hickeys, which made him moan.

"you like being deep inside my tight pussy, enzo?" you teased him.

your boobs bounced as you jumped on his cock; that sight only adding to his pleasure. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself, seeing his eyes roll back in his head as he felt you tighten around him; he thrust up into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

"yeah... so fucking much," he answered, panting heavily.

"such a naughty boy..." you cooed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "but i love it."

you looked closely at him; he was completely flustered, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"you look so fucking pretty underneath me, enzo," you complimented him

he groaned, sliding one hand down to rub against your clit roughly, the other one still holding onto your ass.

"don't stop, please." he breathed out, his hips lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

"you close, pretty boy?" you asked him, watching his face attentively as he nodded in response. "you gonna be a good boy and hold it in for me, yeah?" you ordered with a soft voice.

he whimpered, biting his lip harshly. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release, but his thumb did not stop rubbing circles on your clit; the sensation of his dick pounding into you together with the stimulation on your clit making you weak on the knees.

"yes... I'll be good for you."

"that's my boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him since your legs had started shaking from the pleasure. "you gonna make me cum, baby." you breathed out, moaning loudly.

you hand had a conscience of its own and moved up to grasp at his neck, applying light pressure on it. enzo's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your grip limiting his air flow very slightly, but enough to make it pleasurable.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming," he moaned, gritting his teeth.

"hold it," you commanded, your voice harder that time. "you won't cum until i do."

he moaned in frustration, shaking his head as his hips jerked up into you. "please... i can't."

"just a minute, baby, i'm almost there," you promised, whimpering while your pussy started clenching around his cock as your orgasm built up.

you kept riding him until you finally fell over the edge, letting out a long string of soft moans and whimpers while your whole body shook. you leaned into his body, your hands gripping at his skin as pleasure washed over you.

"oh gods, enzo," you moaned, "you can cum now, baby."

as soon as you gave him permission, he came with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick cum inside you in long spurts, your pussy milking his cock as both of your rode out your highs, holding onto each other tightly.

he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his heartbeat slowing down as he tried to catch his breath.

"that was amazing."

"pretty good for a first time, huh?" you chuckled, out of breath too, while caressing his back and shoulders; your bodies were completely pressed together.

"fuck yeah... let's do it again," he laughed, grabbing your hips to push you onto the mattress; your body bounced slightly.

"enzo!" you giggled, but your playful laugh soon turned into a moan when your best friend buried his head between your legs.

you had definitely created a monster... you weren't complaining, though.

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Very small mention of blood

a/n: I am lovinggg writing this and I can't stop so don't ask me to 🏃‍♀️

Read part one | part two | part four

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Azriel had been by the apothecary four times since his first visit. That wasn’t an unusual number by any means, but it was alarming that he was supposedly going through his headache tonic so quickly. You would give him a week’s worth and he would return for more within three days. 

Melanie had begun to expect him and had taken to examining his wings each time he walked through the door. She would run and stand atop the counter—much to your dismay—and Azriel would unfurl them from his back just a hair so she could get a better look. Her comfortability with him scared you. You’d spoken to your daughter about stranger danger and had emphasized it a million times, but with Azriel, she held no reproach. 

Azriel didn’t seem to mind. You had apologized countless times for Melanie’s staring and her invasive questions, but Azriel would only wave you off with a glint in his eye. He always chalked it up to being an uncle, but you’d had an uncle and he was nothing like Azriel. 

None of your family was like anyone you’d met in Velaris. 

Still, there was a lingering pit in your stomach each time Azriel would ask you a question about yourself or smile at your daughter. It didn’t feel safe to make too many friends, and Azriel was a particularly unsafe friend to have. 

The Shadowsinger. 

You’d learned of his position within the Night Court’s inner circle after Melanie had asked yet another question about Azriel and his shadows. 

“I’m a Shadowsinger,” he had explained, your daughter spinning in circles around him, tugging his shadows along with her. A small smile graced his face as he spoke. “My shadows tell me secrets so I can ensure everything is going okay in Velaris.” 

A cold sweat broke out along your skin as he spoke the words, but you only continued to smile and focused on keeping your breath even. 

He would be the one to find you out—there was no doubt about it. 

But something told you the closeness could be a good thing. Perhaps, if he knew you, he would take pity on you when he found out. Perhaps, if he knew you, he wouldn’t feel the need to dig into your history and ask questions. 

At least, that’s what you were hoping for because Azriel didn’t show any sign of staying away from you or Melanie—a truth made even more apparent at Melanie’s open house. 

“Melanie does so wonderfully in all her subjects,” her teacher gushed, a clipboard held tightly at her chest. “She especially loved our cooking unit. She loved the burners and heating things up.” 

You raised your brows and grinned. “I’m so happy to hear that. She talks about school so often. I’m glad her enthusiasm is reflected in her work.” 

An obvious avoidance—an attempt to curtail the subject away from your daughter’s affinity for flames. 

Her teacher did not seem put off. “It is! I know she began in the middle of the school year, but she has caught on so quickly. I can tell she has a lot of support at home. Big family?” 

Perhaps her teacher wasn’t as oblivious as you had hoped. You fought the twitch in your eye, dreading that this woman would know more about you. Five years of careful isolation and suddenly you were thrust into the public eye. 

“No, just the two of us. But my work is quite flexible so she’s never alone. I always have time to help her with school.” 

“That’s so great to hear. I have to ask, just for the sake of my student, her father—”

“Hello, Ms. Fern.”

Azriel’s voice startled you out of the panic rising in your chest. You turned to find him rooted in his spot behind you, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze flicked down to you for a brief moment before settling back on the teacher. 

“Azriel!” Ms. Fern delighted. “I didn’t expect you today. I saw the High Lord and Lady earlier so I assumed it would just be the parents.” 

Azriel hummed. “I wanted to come by and see Nyx’s art. You mentioned he painted the family.” 

“You didn’t need to do that! I know you’re so busy. What a wonderful—“ 

Azriel slowly edged in front of you, hiding you from Ms. Fern’s watchful eye. You felt a slight push against your hip and held in a laugh as Azriel reached behind him and ushered you off without ever looking away from the teacher. You quickly scampered away and made yourself busy examining the art around the room. Upon closer inspection, Nyx had painted a troll—not his family. 

It took about 10 minutes of lingering before Azriel joined you, his shadows giving him away. They slinked around your wrists and traveled up to caress your neck. 

“Apologies for their familiarity,” Azriel said in place of a greeting. “They seem to have grown comfortable with you.” 

“And Melanie,” you added. You rounded a table and meandered out to the hall. Azriel followed. “They love to chase her around the apothecary. Sometimes I wonder if you keep coming by because they’re making you.” 

Azriel bit back a smile but it still formed into a bashful expression. “Perhaps that’s why.” 

In the hall, you found yourself alone with Azriel—utterly and completely alone. Melanie was with one of your neighbors as the teacher made it clear no students were allowed at the open house, and no one else occupied the space. You leaned your back against the wall and looked up at Azriel, a shyness overtaking you. 

You were never really alone with him—Melanie was always right around the corner. 

“That was some maneuver earlier,” you commented, fidgeting with your fingers at your waist. 

“She was prying,” Azriel replied. You watched the way he carefully trailed his gaze down to your fingers. “I certainly wasn’t going to let her know more about you than I do. Not when I’ve put in far more effort.” 

“I thought your shadows were the reason you came,” you teased. 

“Right, my shadows.” 

You pressed your mouth into a line, feeling small under Azriel’s never-ending gaze. His eyes never left yours as silence blanketed the hall. It was as if he saw through you, understood you in a way that didn’t make sense. 

Maybe you could tell him. 

No, that was ridiculous. 

Was it? 

“Where’s Mel?” Azriel asked, startling you out of your internal strife. 

The words didn’t comprehend, the jumbled mess of your mind intensifying as the Shadowsinger knocked his head to the side and asked you questions. 

“What?” 

“Melanie,” he clarified, brows bunching. “I was going to offer to watch her for this but I didn’t want to impose. I know I’m still mostly a stranger, but I don’t know if you have family in the area and I just…” 

He trailed off. You never mentioned any family because that was one of the topics you strayed from each time it was broached. Family, your origins, Melanie’s father; he never brought any of it up directly, but he’d hint at it. And you always changed the subject. 

“I—I don’t,” you revealed. You broke his gaze and stared down at your fingers, picking at the skin around your nails. “Have family here, I mean. But I have neighbors that Melanie likes. They’re watching her.” 

“Do you trust them?” Azriel asked, an edge to his tone. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t leave her with anyone I didn’t.” 

“Good,” he grunted out. 

“And I would never ask you to watch Mel. That—I know you’re probably busy and she's kind of a handful..” 

Azriel started speaking before the last word left your mouth. “She’s not. And I would never be too busy for that.”

Another silence fell. You picked harder at your nails.

“Azriel, I—“ 

“I want you to feel safe with me. To trust me.” 

His admittance shocked you into silence. You weren’t actually sure what you were going to say to him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Everything you had ever thought exited your brain. 

You opened your mouth to speak but no sound escaped. 

“I mean—I just mean that I want to be a person you can trust Melanie with. That you can trust to… to share more with. I don’t know what you’ve been though, or how you ended up here in Velaris, but I want to be something safe for you.”

It felt as if something was pressing against your chest. When Melanie was around, he never looked at you with such intensity—he never said these things with so much devotion to back his words. 

A sharp, hot feeling pricked your fingers. Azriel’s hand immediately covered both of your own, his warm touch pulling your fingers away from each other. You’d drawn blood—a terrible nervous habit. 

With all of the shock you missed the fact that this was the first time Azriel had touched you with such intentionality. 

“It’s like you’re living in survival mode—you and Melanie. I want you both to feel like there’s someone looking out for you.” 

“Why?” you whispered, the word still sounding entirely too loud. “Why us? Why me?” 

Azriel hadn’t removed his hands from yours. He offered a small squeeze to your fingers. “Why not you?” 

Something broke in you. Something pulled. 

You wanted nothing more than to open your mouth and let everything out. You wanted to trust him—to be able to trust anyone—but there was so much danger to that.

You could be forced back home. You could be forced to marry that man. You could lose Melanie. 

But Azriel was looking at you as if he’d place his life before any of those possibilities. His gaze was beseeching, almost desperate, and something was urging you to trust him. Something intrinsic. Something that felt right.

Your lips parted. 

“Rhys, I told you, Azriel isn’t here.” 

“I saw him leave just after us, darling. He came.” 

“He came to Nyx’s open house? What could he possibly have to gain?” 

The conversation down the hall startled you. You yanked your hands from Azriel’s grip and whipped your head to the side in anticipation. 

Rhys, Azriel, Nyx; you knew who was about to enter the hall, and reality came crashing down on you as soon as you made the connection. 

“I have to go,” you rushed out, eyes widening. “I—Thank you, Azriel, but this isn’t—this isn’t safe for Melanie. Not… all of this. I have to—” 

You left, and Azriel stayed. 

You heard your name as you went, heard it echo down the hall, but you still left. 

And Azriel still stayed. 

part four

[hearts4johnwick]

— CASUAL.

SUMMARY. you’re mad at tyler after an argument, he decides to win you over by bringing in your favorite food and taking you to a rodeo, when you think that his charm was working, an EF-4 tornado strikes.

WARNINGS. angst (happy ending though), tornado attack.

WORD COUNT. 1.2k

you were lying down in your bed, attempting to go to sleep or at least take a nap given that it was 8:21 p.m. you found yourself staring at the ceiling, listening to the music and people singing outside.

you can’t help but toss and turn around as you overthink about the argument you had with tyler. tyler was your best friend, childhood neighbor, situationship, you don’t even know at this point. and although tyler and you were always risk takers, some risks are too hard for you to handle, but boone and tyler are a dangerous duo.

when you graduated high school you went straight to college and studied meteorology, you didn’t waste another second of your life and did everything that it took to where you are now. but, tyler and you were separated for college, you were halfway across the country while he stayed in his hometown. but when you graduated college, you went back home.

the both of you caught up on everything each other missed, and next thing you know, you ended up joining tyler’s storm-chasing team, the thing is, by something that happened to you in the past, you always rode alongside Dexter and Dani, there were moments where you rode with tyler, but you were always harnassed up even if you weren’t inside the tornado yet.

your train of thoughts were so rudely interrupted by the knock at your door. you sit up and take a breath before walking over to the door. before opening it, you were thinking to yourself that maybe it was going to be your mother, or your sister, not tyler owens. he sees the expression on your face and smiles, attempting to cheer you up.

“hey…” your nose flares, he notices and chuckles. “i brought your favorite… Tina Mae’s chocolate pie…” he hands it over to you and you take it. “maybe if you let me in we can sha—“ his words were cut off by the door slamming on his face. his eyebrows raised and he froze.

you put the pie on the desk next to your bed and open the bag, and it is indeed your favorite chocolate pie. you smile to yourself and head back to the door, as expected, tyler was still there.

“if you think you’re always gonna take me back with my favorite food, you’re wrong.” i inhale sharply and tap on the door.

“well, i wanted to do it another way if you’d let me show you…” you raise your eyebrows and cringe. “no—no, not like that, well…” he cocks an eyebrow and glances at you, you were about to close the door again but he stops it. “no, hey, i’m serious. get changed i want to take you somewhere.” he smiles. you hum and close the door gently so you can get changed.

“you can’t be serious. do you want me to forgive you or hate you more, tyler owens?” you say as you take your seats in the rodeo’s benches.

“bit of both.” he smiles, and you chuckle whilst shaking your head. “look, y/n, i’m sorry.”

“you’re apologizing here? rea—“ tyler touches your knee softly, cutting you off.

“i’m sorry, sorry for what i said earlier. i shouldn’t have said those things. you’ve been through so many things i can’t even begin to imagine, and it wasn’t my place to say anything about that. you know i would never do anything to hurt you, i am sorry.” the soft glow in his eye made you feel the truth he was saying. you nod and smile.

“and why would you ever think i wouldn’t forgive you?” tyler smiles at your words and so do you. “i think i should be the one apologizing, i tried to stop you from doing something you gave years of experience, and that was out of place and overprotective and unnecessary.”

“no, no, it’s okay. you of all people know about these stupid risks i take, i was a bull rider for God’s sake! I know you hated that.” you laugh.

“yeah, i think i hated that more than storm chasing.” he chuckles and glances at you, there was a small silence until you broke it. “i just… i don’t want to lose you, ty.”

“you’re never going to lose me.” you look over at him, your eyes stinging as you feel some tears coming. he wraps an arm around you and holds you. “you won’t.” he reassures you nod and after a while, let go.

“you and that stupid face…” you look away, trying to hide a smile.

“wait what?”

“every time i was cleaning blood off of you, whenever you got knocked off your bull, you would always make that stupid face, or like look at me some way like you were trying to get me to kiss you.” he raises an eyebrow and you look at him again.

“oh, you mean my charm? i already come with it, it’s not something i do on command.” you roll your eyes and click your tongue.

“well, “your charm” has never worked on me. never has, never will.” the two of you share a soft smile, all while maintaining that potent eye contact.

you don’t know if it was the tension, but you had sudden goosebumps and started getting chilly. although your hair was in a ponytail, your bangs were getting in the way, you never took your eyes off of tyler’s but you could see his hair starting to get messy too.

“well, i don’t know about you but, i think it’s working pretty well now.” he moves the strands of hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear before cupping your cheeks.

“about time.” you manage to let out seconds before his lips are on yours. your heart was racing the whole time, but you felt it could come out of your chest any second now.

the kiss started slow and gentle, but the moment you smiled into it, tyler deepened the kiss, you placed your hand behind his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, which made you notice how much his hair was moving around, as much as it pained you doing it, you pulled away and saw people walking away from the stands. you look around and pick up a leaf from the ground.

tyler notices and the two of you exchange a look. you both stand up and head for shelter, you feel the winds get stronger and that’s when you start to run, helping some people who have tripped along the way, but not wasting more than a second.

tyler and you managed to find a motel and in that motel an empty pool, where you sought shelter until the tornado passed over you. at that moment tyler had to help a man that had twisted his ankle, and a vending machine was blocking his way, due to the man panicking, he was gone.

tyler hid with you and another family of a mother and her daughter. the grip you had on tyler and that he had on you was like no other. you felt tyler plant kisses on your head to calm you down as you felt the tornado right above you, you held onto some pipes and his arms tightly, fearing for your life at that very moment.

when the tornado passed, you didn’t even want to let go of tyler, you hugged him and stayed with his arm wrapped around you the whole night, even when you shared your bed with him.

❛i know, “baby, no attachment.” but we’re… ❜

[estrellami-1]

How Steve Harrington Gets a Family

The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.

“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”

He frowns at her. “Remember what?”

“You called him dad, Steve.”

“I-” he gapes. “What?”

It goes like this.

He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.

He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.

Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.

“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-” 

“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”

Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.

“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”

Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”

Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”

“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.

“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.

Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”

Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”

“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”

“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.

Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”

Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”

A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.

Steve stiffens. “What?”

“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.

Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”

“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.

They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.

He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.

He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.

That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”

“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”

“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.

“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”

Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”

“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”

Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.

“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”

“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”

Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.

“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.

Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.

“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”

She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”

He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”

“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”

“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”

His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”

“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”

“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”

She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.

“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”

“You know Eddie.”

“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”

“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”

“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”

Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”

“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”

“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”

“I know what you mean,” she agrees.

“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”

“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”

Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”

Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”

“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”

“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.

Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.

He’s out before he hits the ground.

He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.

He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”

“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.

He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”

“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”

“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”

Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”

When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.

“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”

She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.

“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”

Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”

“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.

“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”

“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”

“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”

He falls asleep again.

He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”

Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”

“Are you asking me?”

Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.

“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”

Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”

Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”

Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you-”

“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”

“I think I care more than I should.”

Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”

“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.

“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”

Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”

“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”

“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”

“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”

“And Claudia?”

Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”

Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”

“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”

Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”

Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”

“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”

Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”

“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”

“But now you’ve got Wayne.”

“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”

“What’s it like? Living with him?”

“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”

Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”

“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”

“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”

“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”

“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”

Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”

Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.

Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.

“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”

“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”

Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.

It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.

It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.

A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”

“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”

“Mhm.”

“Y’take anything for it?”

Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”

Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.

He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.

“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.

Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”

Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”

“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.

They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.

Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.

He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.

“Steve?” El asks.

“Yeah?” He looks at her.

“Hopper is your dad.”

Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”

“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”

Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”

“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”

He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”

She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”

“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”

“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”

Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”

When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”