#I understand that angst must happen but that couldn't be me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

08luvmailz · 1 month ago

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★ ﾟ๑ I'D DO ANTHING JUST FOR ME TO SEE YOU AGAIN ୧ ⊹ ࣪

ᡴꪫ which yeon sieun sees you visiting him ୧ ⊹ ࣪ first part ／ party on you ୧ ⊹ ࣪ second part ／console me, and then i'll leave without a trace ──⠀ angst to fluff , set on ep7 of s2 , depictions of self harm , bullying , graphic scenes ⸝⸝ ◜◡◝ i got sick ... so i couldn't finish writing yesterday. please do make some requests <3

reader will be called dokja ／ because in reader in korean is dokja

For an entire year, she had tried everything to make herself feel whole again.

For someone, so bright — her smile had become rare, something she stored away in a locked box, fearing it would shatter if she opened it.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzzed above her, and the cold linoleum floor echoed each step as if the empty school itself whispered her name. Every corner held eyes that whispered behind tilted heads; every passing shoulder carried a story she used to be part of. She walked through that river of eyes like a stone sinking silently, carrying the weight of whispers in her chest.

She remembered how it felt at first, when the quiet ache had swelled like a balloon inside her ribs. She had tried to stretch it with excuses – busying herself with homework until her hands cramped, munching down snacks until her stomach ached, even jogging until her legs turned to jelly – anything to squeeze out a little satisfaction.

But nothing made the emptiness truly leave. It was like trying to fill a black hole with water; every drop vanished before it could make a ripple. In class, she doodled nothing except the back of her mind on the margins of her notebook: a heart that wouldn’t fill, a mouth that wouldn’t smile.

During lunch, while others crowded around tables trading jokes and laughter, she found a quiet corner.

The cafeteria lights and clatter of trays felt distant, as if she watched it happen in someone else’s dream. She chewed slowly on her rice, its dull flavor on her tongue.

She wondered if they were wondering why she ate so slowly, or thought she must eat quickly to stay strong. In her head, she counted the seconds between bites, hoping to feel any sensation more than the gnawing void inside.

She would glance on the table near her, It was the table they used to sat on. But she quickly disregard the gnawing pain of memories her brain kept locked in.

She heard the rumors.

Kids at her locker thinking she couldn’t hear, imagining her knuckles bruised from something they didn’t understand, lips curling into cruel stories.

She was the shadow stretching long across the hallway’s bright walls – not quite human, not quite monster. Some were scared to approach, afraid she might lash out with hands that had, one time, raised to defend something small and precious.

Each morning felt like climbing a hill she could never reach the top of. Even the sun casting light through her kitchen window failed to warm her insides. Her reflection in the mirror as she put on her uniform was a girl with tired eyes, the kind that quiet mornings and too many secrets give you.

She wondered if the corners of her mouth had forgotten how to go up. On some mornings, she pinched her palm with her nails just to feel a flash of anything real, a proof that she was still there and not just an echo.

She often thought about who she used to be, or who she wanted to be.

Sometimes, in rare moments alone in the afternoon, she would hum a tune she once loved, and for a breath she’d almost believe everything would be okay again.

But when the bell rang and the hurried footsteps as the hallway became empty, reality clung to her again like a cold coat. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, tried to make herself small and unnoticeable so she could disappear into the background.

It was easier this way – so people wouldn't come closer anymore.

As the year dragged on, she built a quiet routine of coping.

Some days, after the final bell, she would find a hidden corner of the library and bury her face in a book, leaning into the paper and print so she could hold a whisper of someone else’s story.

Other days, she walked home along side streets, feet crunching on gravel, head down so that the roofs of houses blurred her vision and no one would say her name.

At night, before sleep stole her away, she sometimes imagined a dinner table where just once someone passed her plate without a warning glance. Those dreams faded by dawn, leaving only the morning ache.

She watched the other students as if from behind glass. They passed her in the halls—heads held high, friends jabbering shoulder-to-shoulder. They worried about tests, cram schools, summer vacation or going out.

Sometimes at night, late when everything was dark and the house was empty, she touched the scars she kept hidden on her wrist. They were faint lines, as if she had cut herself just enough to feel. Enough to remember that I’m here.

The ache in her stomach and heart became the same longing, and she ached to feel anything but hollow. Yet morning would come, as it always did, and she would tuck those memories back inside her ribcage and wear her uniform once more.

She was careful now.

Careful to walk in the center of the corridors so no one had reason to crowd her. Careful to keep her voice low if a teacher asked her a question.

She preferred to blend into the pattern of her desk in class or the gray cement wall outside the school, so that anyone might forget she was there at all. She told herself that being invisible was the least she could offer the world.

Sometimes when she passed a reflection in a store window, she stared at the girl who looked back with hungry eyes and wondered if that was her, really, or just another stranger pulling a cart alongside the frozen aisles of life. She envied how warm and bright her classmates appeared in her imagination, as if they wore their warmth and hunger on their tongues without any effort.

She started learning how to ride Suho’s motorcycle a month after everything happened. Not because she had a reason. Just because sitting still made her feel like she’d disappear.

It wasn’t easy. Her hands weren’t made for handlebars or throttle grips, and the engine always roared too loud for her quiet head. But she kept practicing. Around the block, then across the neighborhood, then down the same roads Suho used to ride when he was still—

She doesn’t finish the sentence. She just keeps riding.

Sometimes she visits his grandmother first, carrying grocery bags that dig red marks into her palms. They don’t talk much—just share the silence like old friends do. She helps clean, picks up the mail, waters the plants that Suho forgot to before everything fell apart. And then, like ritual, she visits the hospital.

She doesn’t bring flowers anymore. That stopped after the fifth week. Now it’s just her, a quiet chair, and Suho’s breathing. She talks sometimes, about nothing. About school. About how the vending machine’s been out of her favorite drink for a week straight. About the bike.

She took the job to keep her mind busy. A delivery service. Something that paid just enough and asked for nothing back. Using Suho's helmet that's too big on her because she couldn't used the pink helmet he brought for her, a schedule, and a willingness to keep going even when you’re tired.

She took the job because she wanted to make up for what she didn’t do—what she should’ve done back then. Maybe if she earned enough, it could at least cover Suho’s expenses for a few months. So when he woke up, he wouldn’t have to think about wasting time trying to make money again. He could just rest, catch up with everything he missed.

That was the idea. That was a brilliant plan.

Oh, how wrong she was.

It was hard to juggle everything—school during the day, taekwondo classes after, then deliveries until late. Her body ached more often now. Sleep became something borrowed, not earned. And sometimes, when she stared too long at her schedule, she wondered how Suho managed to do it all.

Then she let out a bitter chuckle.

Right. He didn’t study much.

He tried—she remembered that. Showing up to class with tired eyes, scribbling half-hearted notes, pretending to care when the teacher called on him. But studying was never the plan for him. He wasn’t built for libraries or lecture halls. He was planning to survive. To make a living. To take care of the people he loved, even if that meant running himself to the ground.

Now here she was, retracing his steps. As if mimicking his life could somehow bring him back. As if it could undo what happened.

But the truth was, she wasn’t doing this because it was right.

She was doing it because she didn’t know how else to grieve.

She was doing it to remember that she still lived for him—the only one.

It wasn’t like she suddenly believed in responsibility or wanted to prove something to her parents—they didn’t care either way. They nagged her about it at first, asking why she had to deliver food like some desperate kid. She told them she was trying to live like an adult now.

That was a lie.

What she really meant was: I need to do something that hurts a little. Something that makes me feel like I’m still here.

She picked up the helmet, looked at the old bike, and thought, If I could ride it well enough, maybe it would feel like Suho was still beside me.

At times, when she was in the saddle delivering food, her route veered past Sieun’s old neighborhood before she could stop herself. The engine’s hum would carry her right to the curb beneath that familiar streetlamp where they once sheltered from rain.

She’d cut the engine and sit in silence, remembering how he held the umbrella too high—as if standing close was its own kind of risk. She’d force a small, aching smile, tell herself it was only a shortcut on the map.

Other days, she’d pull up behind a low brick wall, park the bike with a screech, and leap off, ready to startle him. But in her memory, his voice would reach her first: “Too loud,” he’d said, never bothering to turn around.

So she’d shake off the pain, clip her helmet on again, and push forward—deliveries waiting, regret left to catch up on its own.

Most of all, she rode just like Suho used to—late into the evening, weaving between streetlights and memories. Each package she carried was fuel for her guilt, her promise to cover weeks of missed chores and unspoken goodbyes.

She was learning to ride the weight of her grief as surely as she learned to handle the throttle: both made her body ache, but at least it meant she was still moving.

She remembered, when she smiled at the mirror for the first time in a long while.

It wasn’t a triumphant smile—more like a small, crooked thing, half-formed and unsure, but there nonetheless. The bathroom was filled with the sharp scent of drugstore dye, gloves stained with streaks of artificial chestnut. She worked in silence, dragging the brush through her hair, clumsily but with care, as if repainting herself would somehow peel away the weight she carried on her shoulders.

When she finished drying it, the strands fanned out like paper—too soft, too light, the color warmer than she imagined. Under the cheap lighting, it almost looked orange. She stared at her reflection, blinked once, and let out a short, surprised laugh.

She looked like she was wearing a wig. Like a stranger trying on someone else’s softness.

She remembered when the three would glance at her when she questioned them if she would look good in a light brown haired color. The two nodded and Beomseok complimented her with a thought, then Suho—that bitch.

Said, "If you ever dyed your hair. You would look like wearing a wig"

She chuckled to herself that a kick was met on his face after he made a comment.

And yet... something about it made her pause. Not in shame. Not in regret. But in that fleeting, suspended moment where grief and girlhood blur.

It didn’t fix anything. But it made her feel like maybe she could try again.

Even if it was just hair.

Even if it was just for a second.

Then, it started.

The bullying.

The girls started again, their voices high and biting, a chorus of yapping dogs circling, teeth bared but too afraid to bite. Each word they threw at her was a stone, meant to make her crack. But the cracks were inside. The outside? The outside was numb, cold—so cold it almost felt like she wasn't even there. Not until the bathroom, cornered between the walls, did she feel the heat of her own anger rising.

Not at them.

No, not at them.

At herself.

She hated how she'd let it get to this point. How had she become this quiet thing—this thing that let them talk, let them push? If it were the old her, she'd have torn them apart by now. Fists flying, voice roaring. She would’ve been the storm they couldn't handle. She would’ve shown them what it meant to not be afraid.

A year ago, she would have struck first—fists flying before thought. She would have tasted the shock in their eyes as blood bloomed on her knuckles. But that girl was gone. Now she stood still, back pressed to cool porcelain, heart hammering a fierce rhythm against her ribs.

But not now.

Now, silence was all she could afford them. Giving them her attention, her energy—it felt like losing, like handing them the power to keep dragging her back into their pit. So, she waited. Let them bark, let them jeer.

She was waiting for the one to make a move. She could feel it coming. The sharpness of her breath, the way her lip trembled under the weight of what she wanted to do.

The fluorescent light hummed overhead, and the walls felt too close, as if they meant to press her in. She looked at them—low laughs, the scrape of heels on tile. Shadows swept across the stalls, narrowing in on her.

They surrounded her: girls with cigarettes dangling from their lips, eyes bright with cruelty. Their words stung—whispers of psycho, freak, worse. Each insult landed in her chest like a stone.

Her lips were dry, chapped beneath the heavy lipstick, so bright it almost hurt to see. She imagined, for a moment, what it would look like—if that lipstick were smeared with blood. Her blood or theirs, it didn’t matter. The thought of wiping it off with their mocking laughter, of seeing them eat their own arrogance, was a sickening sort of satisfaction.

The laughter, the cigarette smoke curling around their words—it all burned her. She didn’t need to move, didn’t need to react. But the fantasy? The fantasy was enough. They'd never know the rage coiled inside her like a snake, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But that moment never came. And she realized, standing there, that maybe it never would. She was a prisoner of her own calm.

She paused, breath steadying, and Suho’s voice cut through the noise in her head. “If they corner you, don’t let them control the space. Use anything around you. Make them intimidate you.” Not her teacher’s drills—Suho’s words, like a lifeline.

She straightened her spine. Every inch of her stood tall: shoulders back, chin up, eyes locked on the ring leader. The others fell silent, startled by the sudden shift in the air. She moved forward, step by deliberate step, until she was toe-to-toe with the girl who’d cornered her.

Her voice was low, rough from disuse—but clear.

" You done spouting bullshit? "

The hallway seemed to hold its breath. The girl’s smirk faltered as a tremor of hesitation rippled through the circle. And for the first time that day, She felt something bloom behind her ribs—not fear, but a fierce, electric calm. The world had tilted back into place. She owned this moment. And they knew it.

The girl scoffed, a bitter sound curling from her lips like smoke. Her voice trembled, mechanical and unsure, stuttering as if caught between fury and fear. “What did you say?” she asked, trying to hold the edges of control, to wear confidence like armor—though it barely clung to her.

“You just keep talking,” she spat. “Saying things you don’t even understand. You’ve got the ego of a man compensating for something small—so small. Always acting like you're above everyone, but you’re nothing more than a coward in a mask.”

Her anger was wildfire now, unchecked and consuming. She moved fast—too fast—reaching out to strike, to make the moment hers again. But the other girl was faster. Calm. Cold. She caught her wrist mid-air, twisted it hard.

There was a snap—sharp, sickening.

A breath caught in the girl’s throat.

She screamed in pain then came the kick, swift and brutal, sending her stumbling backward, wounded pride trailing behind her like a torn ribbon. She hurled in pain clutching her hand as she lay on the ground.

And then—silence.

She had the space she needed. A clear path to run, to disappear, to let this be over.

But she didn’t move.

Not yet, she isn't done.

They circled her like wolves, four against one, grinning with the kind of confidence that came in packs. Cheap perfume, chewing gum, and bad intentions hung thick in the air.

The first came charging, wild and loud. She sidestepped, smooth as water, and swept a leg out low. The girl hit the ground with a thud, her pride landing harder than her body. As another was baffled but lunged—fists swinging, rage without form. She caught her wrist mid-swing, twisted, and sent an elbow into her ribs. The sound that followed was breathless, raw.

The third tried to out-think her. She went low, hands reaching for ankles, but didn’t see the spin. A heel cracked across her jaw with the grace of violence learned in silence. She folded, crumpled, still.

The last girl hesitated.

She could’ve run. Could’ve walked away with just a bruise to her ego.

“Don’t,” she warned, softly. Like mercy.

But pride struck first, than being humble.

She attacked—and in seconds, she was face-down, her wrist bent behind her back, the ground cold and unforgiving. Her face met with the cold disgusting floor where many student stepped in.

She exhaled.

She looked at them with no compassion, she knelt and plucked a crumpled cigarette pack from one of their jackets. Held it up between two fingers like something dead.

“Pick them up,” she said.

No one answered, nor moved.

She exhaled with a look of annoyance.

She stood over them, still as a statue, the echo of violence humming in her bones. Around her, the bathroom was silent save for their ragged breathing—tile cold beneath scraped palms, smoke clinging to the walls like ghosts.

“PICKED THEM UP!” she shouted, voice cracking through the air like a whip.

It boomed off the tiled walls, reverberating through the stillness. The room swallowed the sound, but it stayed there, vibrating in the bones of those crouched on the floor.

They moved slowly, heads bowed like scolded children, fingers fumbling for the torn paper and crushed filters. One by one, they gathered the pieces.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

"Eat it." she commanded at them, as the other stare at her in fear. Others obeyed too quickly afraid to have more blooming bruises on their faces.

But the one who had confronted her—the first to strike, the first to fall—didn’t look away.

She sat against the tiled wall, cradling her broken wrist with the other hand, eyes burning with fury. It wasn’t fear in her face—it was defiance. Pride refusing to kneel, even in defeat.

Blood at the corner of her lip. Breathing sharp. Hate alive in her throat.

She walked toward her—not rushed, not cruel, just deliberate. Controlled. Her knees bent with a soft thud against the tile as she knelt before the girl. A single cigarette still burned on the floor, its ember a fading eye. She picked it up between her fingers, unflinching as the heat kissed her skin.

“Still holding onto that pride?” she asked, almost gently.

She caught her face in one hand, fingers gripping her cheeks, steady and strong. Thumb pried her mouth open.

“No more talking.” She murmured at her, and smiled at her. Sickingly.

The cigarette went in.

Smoke. Ash. Pained gasped. Burning tongue. Silence.

She watched her chew it—eyes wet, teeth grinding through heat and paper and humiliation. The taste of defiance turned to ash on her tongue.

She held her gaze the whole time at her. Chewing at her own pride.

Then she let go.

Her fingers slipped from the girl's face like a dying breeze. And then, without fury—only finality—she slapped her. A clean, echoing sound that cracked through the heavy stillness like a gunshot in a chapel. No rage in it. Just closure. She rose to her feet, slow and composed, the chaos behind her shrinking as if it had never touched her.

At the door, she paused.

The air in the bathroom was thick—smoke curling like ghosts above the flickering light, blood and ash staining silence. The girls were curled inward, pain folding their bodies like paper. Eyes wide, throats dry. Beaten, but still watching.

She turned to face them one last time.

“Tell a teacher,” she said, voice low but thunderous, coiled with quiet venom. “And it won’t just be my fists or my feet kneeling to your faces.” Her eyes swept over them—each one trembling, pride shattered and stinging beneath the skin.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even look in the mirror without choking on what you see.”

A breath.

“I will kill you.”

No screams. No theatrics. Just that promise—quiet and unshakeable.

Then she stepped through the doorway and disappeared. The door slammed behind her with the force of a verdict. The lock clicked shut, sealing the room like a tomb.

She walked slowly, each step measured, as though the weight of her own actions had yet to fully settle. Her heartbeat still echoed in her chest, a steady drum beneath the skin. The rush, that surge of power, still coursed through her veins like fire, bright and consuming.

But she remained composed.

Her breath, though quick, was steady, like the calm after a storm. The chaos of the bathroom—those faces crumpled in pain, the smell of smoke and defeat—was already fading into the periphery of her mind.

Her fingers, still tingling from the force of the slap, brushed against the cold metal of the doorframe as she passed. Her body knew what it had done, but her mind? Her mind was already someplace else, already turning over the pieces like a puzzle that had just been solved.

She didn't regret it. Not in that moment.

She didn’t need to look back.

She just have to keep moving forward.

Its been a year.

After endless of orders, knocking on doors, she fell asleep face-down on a half-finished worksheet, the highlighter uncapped and bleeding neon yellow into the page.

When she slept, she was impossible to wake—like the world could end outside her window and she’d sleep through the fire. It had become her escape, her only silence. But not tonight.

Her phone rang loud and sharp, slicing through the quiet like panic often does. She stirred, groggy and annoyed, until her eyes caught the caller ID: Hospital.

She blinked.

Hospital

Her heart didn’t stop—it collapsed.

She answered without thinking, her voice breathless, the fear already creeping up her spine. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end was formal, wrapped in professional indifference. “Hello. Is this Dokja-ssi’s phone?”

Her breath hitched. Something about the tone felt wrong. Off. Too careful. “Yes—yes, this is her. I’m Dokja. Why? What’s going on?” she asked, already standing, legs shaky, the panic flooding her veins.

“There’s been a complication,” the voice replied, each word like a crack in her chest. "Patient Anh Suho, is in a critical condition, Unfortunately, Sieun-ssi responded but he didn't came. Are you able to come?" The nurse voice replied.

For a second, time slowed. Then it shattered.

She didn’t respond. The call had ended. Or maybe she had ended it. She couldn’t remember. Her limbs moved on instinct. She didn’t change clothes. She didn’t think. She just ran.

She ran like she did the night everything fell apart.

She ran like apologies could catch up to prayers.

She ran like her heart would stop before she made it.

She ran even if her tears wouldn't stop streaming until her eyes became blurry at the sight.

She called and called Suho’s grandmother, but the line rang endlessly. The silence on the other end pressed against her ears like grief.

When she burst through the hospital entrance, breathless and wild-eyed, she was met with chaos—blurred voices, sharp lights, the dull smell of antiseptic, and somewhere behind it all, fear.

A nurse met her halfway, calm hands reaching to steady her. "Dokja-ssi? "she asked gently, guiding her to a seat. She nodded, unable to speak.

Then everything came too fast— loud shouts, jarring footsteps.

Too real.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. She just stood there, rooted to the floor as the world blurred into chaos.

Through the small square of glass, her eyes locked onto the scene like it might disappear if she looked away. Suho’s body, too still on the stretcher, wires snaking across his chest. The defibrillator pads were already in place. The sound of machines echoed even through the door, shrill and unrelenting.

She saw the moment his heart flatlined.

The jagged spike of the monitor became a flat line.

"He's in cardiac arrest!"

Doctors shouted orders she couldn’t understand, but her body translated their panic anyway. Hands moved fast, efficient and desperate, as if time could be bribed to give them more.

His chest lifted—once, twice—under compressions, and she could barely hear the nurse behind her asking her to sit down.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

All she could do was stare at the blinking lights, watching as they flickered like dying stars in a collapsing sky. He had always burned so bright. And now—Now he was fighting to stay lit.

Tears clung to her lashes, but she didn’t cry. Not yet. Not when he was still in there. Not when he might still wake up.

She placed a hand against the glass.

“Suho,” she whispered like it was a promise. Like her voice could reach him where machines couldn’t.

She didn’t know how long she stood there. Could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been forever. Time twisted itself into knots.

All she knew was that she had never felt so helpless.

Inside, the doctor called for another round. The paddles pressed to his chest.

Clear.

His body jolted.

She flinched.

Her knees gave out before she even realized she was falling. The cold linoleum kissed her skin, and her fingers clawed at the base of the emergency room door—desperate, aching, as if she could tear through it and pull him back with her own bare hands.

“Suho,” she choked out, once, then again—until his name was no longer a name, but a prayer dragged through broken sobs.

Her body folded in on itself. Shoulders shaking, forehead pressed against the wood like it could listen. Like maybe if she stayed close enough, he’d hear her crying and come back just to scold her for it.

She wailed quietly at first, then louder, all the grief she had buried beneath discipline and duty unspooling in the rawest of ways. She gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth, nails digging in until her knuckles turned white.

Her voice cracked, mouth trembling as she whispered, “Please… please don’t go.”

No one answered.

Only the muffled chaos of the emergency room beyond the door. The soft buzz of machines still fighting to keep him here. The frantic shuffle of shoes and fabric and sterile urgency.

She quickly kneeled, blood in her throat and prayers in her lungs. Asking the universe, begging God, “If you're here, save him.”

Not long after, the noise settled. The beeping of machines, the shouting of doctors, the chaos in the emergency room all blurred into a dull hum as Suho’s heart slowly found its rhythm again.

She sat there, knees still trembling beneath her, as a nurse gently approached her. She had no words to offer, no comfort to give, but the way she placed a steady hand on her shoulder said enough. It was an anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

“Suho’s stable now,” the nurse said softly, but her voice was still kind, despite the exhaustion that clung to her like a second skin. “He’s in critical care, but the immediate danger has passed.”

“His vitals are steady. We’ll monitor him, of course.” The nurse’s tone was reassuring, but she couldn’t shake the cold dread that clung to her, the fear that, at any moment, everything could tip back into the unknown.

The doctor stepped in next, his presence steady but brisk, offering the facts as they were. “His heart stopped for a few moments, but we were able to stabilize him,” he said, glancing at the monitor and then at her. “We’ll continue monitoring him closely for the next few hours. He’s strong. He’ll pull through. But it’s too early to say much more.”

She nodded, the weight of his words settling into her bones. But her mind couldn’t quite rest on the relief; it was tangled in the knots of everything she had felt before this moment, the panic, the helplessness, the feeling of losing him before she even had the chance to understand what he truly meant to her.

She managed to speak, though her voice felt foreign. “Can I see him?”

The nurse and doctor exchanged glances. The doctor nodded. “Just for a moment. He’s sedated, but we’ll allow a brief visit.”

As they led her to Suho’s room, She felt her legs heavy, like she was walking through water. When she reached the threshold of his room, she stopped, standing there in the doorway for a moment, watching him. The sight of him—his face pale but familiar, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the monitors—was almost too much to bear.

But she stepped inside. Slowly. Quietly. As if afraid that if she moved too fast, she would wake from this nightmare too soon.

There, in the quiet hum of the hospital room, she sat by his bed, her hand carefully brushing through his hair.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

All she could do was stay. And wait.

"You scared the shit out of me, you bastard." Her voice cracked, soft but heavy with the weight of everything she had felt in the past few hours.

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, her fingers trembling as they lingered on his hand, still warm, still steady. The tears she had held back now fell freely, pooling on the edges of her lashes before they slipped down her cheeks.

"I thought... I thought I was going to lose you," she whispered, the words raw and honest, the fear she hadn’t known how to voice finally spilling from her. "I didn't know what I'd do without you."

"You always make me worry, don’t you?" she said, her voice quieter now, almost a fond reproach, as if she was talking to herself more than to him.

The sterile room felt colder now, quieter, but her presence by his side warmed the space. She could almost pretend that things were normal, that this moment was just one of those fleeting, quiet moments they used to have—when everything felt right, when there was nothing but them, no chaos, no questions. Just the quiet hum of being together.

"If you scared me like that again, i will kill you." she murmured, her hand brushing over the cool fabric of his hospital gown. "Please, wake up."

But silence was the loud answer.

Soon, she would hear his voice.

Again.

Soon she left the room, as the doctor checked his vitals.

She stepped away from the cold, sterile walls of the waiting room, seeking solace in a quiet corner where she could break without being seen. Her breath caught in her throat as her body trembled, each sob a sharp, painful release of everything she had held back.

She pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it was useless. The grief, the fear, the desperate prayer to some higher power—she couldn’t contain it any longer.

"Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, don’t take him too."

She was lost in her own panic, until her gaze lifted, and through blurred eyes, she saw them.

Three figures in the distance, standing near the entrance of the waiting area.

Their presence felt like a strange disruption, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to the storm inside her. She quickly wiped her tears away, forcing herself to steady her breathing, her chest still tight, aching from the earlier rush of emotion.

She couldn’t show them the cracks. Not now. Not here.

Her eyes darted to the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the sound sharp and confident as it drew closer. Without even looking, she knew.

She recognized the familiar cadence, the polished, poised steps of someone who had a presence that filled the room. And when she heard the words, soft yet piercing, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing over.

“Sieun,” his mother’s voice echoed, a quiet, clipped tone that made her blood run cold.

Her heart stopped for a moment, suspended in time. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare.

She had to stay still. To breathe. To keep herself from trembling at the sight of his mother, at the thought of Sieun.

As the woman turned, disappearing into the hallway, the rest of them—those familiar figures from long ago—remained.

She heard those words again, echoing in her chest like a cracked bell, "Don't worry. He's stable now."

But “stable” felt hollow—an empty promise carved from glass. It pressed against her ribs until she could hardly breathe. Stable meant he had already teetered on the edge.

Stable meant the world had nearly slipped him away once, and could do so again.

In that moment, the corridor’s light blurred into silver dust, and every step she took felt haunted by the question: What had broken him, and could she piece him back together?

Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, standing up as the need to know, to understand, burned through her chest. She walked toward them, each step hesitant but determined, her feet carrying her forward as if they knew the path she needed to take.

When she reached them, her voice was steady, but the question she asked felt like it came from someone else, someone too broken to stop herself.

“What happened to Sieun?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, though she hoped it didn’t sound as fragile as it felt.

Her eyes caught theirs, scanning each face, searching for a truth that had eluded her. And for a split second, in that fleeting moment, she realized how deeply she had missed them, how much she had needed to see them. But all she could focus on was Sieun. Where was he? Was he okay?

They met her gaze, each face shifting with something—pity? Worry? It was hard to tell, but she needed to know. She had to know.

The first met her gaze for an instant—his head shaved close, eyes hard—before he looked away. The second hunched forward, hood drawn tight, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his knee. The third leaned back, arms crossed, but his glance flickered to her like a startled bird.

“Who are you?” the one wearing a blazer asked, voice cautious.

Her throat constricted. “I—” She forced the words out. “I’m just asking if he’s okay.”

“Why do you care?” the first boy challenged, sharp eyes narrowing.

“I was his friend,” she whispered, voice thin as spun glass. “Please… just tell me.” They exchanged hesitant looks, the silence stretching between them like a wound.

“We weren’t there,” the boy with folded arms finally said, each word weighed by uncertainty. “Someone brought him in. He… hasn’t woken up yet.” She bowed her head, letting the news settle like snow in her chest.

The boy with a fur jacket on as his voice softened, almost a murmur: “You close to him, then?” She blinked at him, She didn’t know how to answer him. Are you close to him? — the question wasn’t cruel, just curious. Simple. But it rattled something. She would've said we are, once. It would’ve been easy. Natural.

But they weren’t.

Not anymore.

So the silence stretched for a second too long, and she could feel it waiting — the question, the boys, even the fluorescent lights buzzing above. “I was,” she said. Quiet. Honest. Maybe too honest. She didn’t know what else to say. Nothing she could say would explain it anyway.

The words hung in the air behind her as she walked, not really expecting them to understand.

The three boys watched her go, but none of them tried to stop her. It wasn’t like they could.

As she neared the hallway where Sieun’s mother had disappeared, the heels clicking sharply on the tile floor were unmistakable. The woman, tall and dressed in black, walked with a certain kind of authority, but there was something fragile about the way she moved — like even the weight of her own footsteps might be too much for her.

She didn't hesitate. Her legs carried her forward, and before she could second-guess herself, she was standing at the door where his mother had entered.

By the time she reached the door — the same one his mother had disappeared through — her hand was already on the frame, fingers trembling.

She leaned in.

The glass was small, but clear enough to steal her breath.

There he was.

Sieun. Still. Pale. Wires crawling across his skin like questions with no answers. Machines blinking quietly beside him, a soundless rhythm of worry. Her stomach turned. Something inside her dropped.

Her breathe hitched.

Him too?

And she didn't even know.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes before she could blink them back, stinging sharp and sudden. Not just because of the sight. But because it felt like some invisible thread had snapped — and she hadn't even realized it was still there until now.

It hit her like a quiet betrayal.

She used to pride herself on noticing things—on knowing when people were hurting even if they didn’t say it out loud. But this?

She hadn’t known a damn thing.

She didn't know what happened.

There was no warning. No signs. Just a body behind glass. A boy who once walked beside her now laid out like a question without an answer.

Her chest ached. Not sharp, just hollow.

She wondered if he tried to reach out. If he hesitated before deleting her number. If he thought about her at all.

Would it have changed anything?

Would she have come running sooner, if she knew?

She didn’t even know what floor he was on until she heard his name from someone else's mouth. And now here she was, heart pressed against glass, breathing in grief like it was her fault she didn’t notice him slipping.

She didn’t notice the door open. Not until a voice sliced through the haze, sharp and clean like a blade pressed too close to skin. “What is it?” The woman’s tone was brisk—businesslike, wrapped in steel—but not cruel. Not yet.

And for a moment, she couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak. She stood there, breath caught halfway, spine tense like she’d been caught somewhere she shouldn’t be.

What was she supposed to say? That she was standing outside the room of a boy she hadn’t seen in months, one who used to walk beside her like a shadow, now lying still behind glass like a stranger? That she didn’t know why she was here, only that her feet wouldn’t let her go anywhere else?

But none of that would sound right. None of that would explain the tears she hadn’t wiped away, the guilt tightening her chest, the ache of realizing she was too late.

“…What happened to Sieun?” She asked the question again, but it felt heavier this time. More desperate.

The woman paused.

Sieun’s mother glanced at her, with a mask of recognition.

“You...” Sieun’s mother said softly, her voice filled with the weight of years of distance. “You’re the girl who visited us... a year ago?”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“I was,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

The woman paused, studying her carefully. There was something in her gaze—concern, perhaps, or understanding—something that made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

Sieun’s mother’s eyes softened for just a moment, her expression unreadable, but there was a kindness in the way she spoke next.

But at her first question, her jaw tensed — a small, silent betrayal of everything she refused to let slip. There was a flicker in her eyes, something restrained and quiet, like a dam holding back too much water. She gave a slow shake of her head — not dismissive, not angry — just tired. The kind of tired that lived in the bones, not the muscles. The kind that grief makes permanent.

For a moment, the hallway felt too still. The soft mechanical murmurs behind the walls seemed distant, unimportant. Time hung suspended in fluorescent light and stale air.

Then, finally, Sieun’s mother exhaled — low, controlled, as if she could force herself to stay composed with nothing but breath.

“He’s in a bad state,” she said, and the words landed with the weight of something half-buried. “Unconscious when they brought him in. He got hit by a bus, thankfully it wasn't that critical. But the doctors are trying. They’re doing what they can.”

The ache hit without warning — a sharp, invisible thing that cracked down her spine like lightning. She didn’t know when she started shaking. Only that it hurt to stand still, and it hurt more to listen.

She wanted to ask more. A thousand questions pressed behind her teeth, begging for air. But none of them mattered. Not right now.

“Do you... want to see him?” Sieun’s mother asked, her voice softer now, like she understood what it meant to be left behind by someone still breathing.

“Yes.” Her voice came out too fast, too fragile. “Please. I— I need to.” The older woman gave a quiet nod and turned, her steps slow and heavy. And the girl followed, unsure if her knees were steady enough to carry her through the weight of the moment.

Behind every step was a memory. Behind every breath was something she wished she’d said.

But ahead… ahead was the hope of seeing him again — and maybe, just maybe, a chance to fix what time and silence had fractured.

“Are... are you a friend of Sieun’s?” Sieun’s mother asked, her voice faltering slightly. “I always believed something must have happened... between the two of you.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a sharp reminder of the distance she had put between them, a distance that had been as much her doing as anyone else’s.

“I used to be his friend,” she replied, her voice faltering, unsure of what else to say. Sieun’s mother’s eyes softened for just a moment, her expression unreadable, but there was a kindness in the way she spoke next.

She steps slowly toward Sieun's room, her heart racing in her chest, and each step feels heavier than the last. The guilt still lingers, but she pushes it aside, forcing herself to focus on the present. She can’t afford to think about the past anymore. Not now.

The reality of what’s happening hits her—she’s finally facing Sieun after all this time, after everything that’s happened. She doesn’t know what she’s going to say, or if she’ll even be able to say anything at all.

But she knows one thing for certain: she has to be there for him, even if it’s just in silence.

The sterile smell of the hospital room fills her senses. The sound of beeping machines and the soft rustle of sheets are the only noises that break the stillness of the room. She looks at him, lying unconscious in the hospital bed. His face is peaceful, but his body is marked with signs of his struggle.

It’s hard to look at him—he looks so fragile, so far from the boy she used to know. She’s reminded of all the things left unsaid, of the friendship that was lost, and the connection that never truly faded, even when she thought it had.

His mother gave a small nod, saying nothing, only shifting slightly to offer the empty seat beside her.

She sat down, the chair cold beneath her, the air colder still.

Silence erupted in the room—not hollow, but thick. The kind that fills your lungs until it’s hard to breathe. Machines hummed gently, steady and indifferent. But everything else felt still, like the world had paused just outside these walls.

She didn’t look at him right away. She couldn’t. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, as if they were the only thing keeping her grounded.

She heard sieun's mother sighed softly, a mix of relief and lingering worry in her voice. “The doctor says it wasn’t critical, but his nervous system was affected. He’s been having trouble...” Her voice falters a bit.

“...trouble sleeping.” Her voice barely above a whisper, heart racing at the realization. As she finished Sieun's mother sentence. Her eyes widen in surprise, as if a flash of recognition crosses her mind. “Did Sieun tell you this?”

She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips, though it’s drowned in the ache of regret. “No, I haven’t talked to him... not since he switched schools.” She glanced at her lap, fiddling at the edge of her t-shirt, afraid to look at her.

A pause, her gaze softening, yet heavy with understanding. Her voice becomes quiet but firm, almost as if she’s been waiting to say this. “The moment I saw you standing at our door... I knew you had a connection with him. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I could tell you meant a lot to him.”

She is struck by her words, her heart sinking in guilt. She bows her head into her lap, the tears threatening to spill over. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, not with all the emotions swirling inside her, not after everything she wished she’d done differently.

Her voice lowers with empathy, a soft sadness in her words, as she takes a cautious step closer. “Sieun’s always been reserved... He’s never been good at opening up, especially when it matters the most. That’s how he is... always locking everything inside.” She paused as she glanced at the girl's appearance.

She trembled, shoulders tight, voice barely holding beneath the weight that had sat on her chest for far too long.

“I... I let my pride get in the way,” she whispered, each word splintering against the silence. “I didn’t talk to him when I had the chance... I should’ve, but I didn’t. I thought he’d be fine—like he always is. I told myself he’d figure it out. But now—” her breath hitched, “now he’s in here, like this. And I wasn’t there. I wasn’t even close.”

Her hands lifted, covering her face as the tears finally broke through, warm and merciless.

She hated herself for waiting. For hesitating. For thinking there would always be more time.

The silence they once shared now felt like punishment. A distance she could’ve closed, but didn’t. And now the air between them was filled with wires and machines and too many what-ifs.

If only she’d said something. If only she hadn’t let fear speak louder than her heart.

Now, it might be too late to say any of it at all.

Her voice was calm—steady in a way that only someone who had learned how to carry pain without letting it break them could manage. It reached her like a soft touch, like the kind of comfort that doesn’t need to be loud to be heard.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, not accusing, not dismissive—just honest. A breath left her lips, weary but full of knowing. “You can’t predict everything. Especially with someone like Sieun.”

She paused, as if weighing her next words with care.

“Sometimes... people need to fall a little. Walk into the dark by themselves before they can find their way back. That’s not on you. You can’t carry that alone.”

The words lingered in the quiet, gentle but undeniable. A truth that she hadn’t let herself believe. She had been so sure it was her failure, her silence, her pride that led to this—but maybe... it wasn’t all hers to hold.

Then, softer now, almost like an offering:

“If you were once his friend... maybe you still are. Maybe that hasn’t changed. It’s not too late. He’s been through more than we know, but maybe—just maybe—seeing you now will remind him... that he’s not alone. That someone still cares.”

And in that moment, the she felt something shift—not the ache, not the guilt, but the helplessness. It didn’t fade completely. But it loosened just enough to let hope slip in.

She feels a sudden rush of uncertainty—an ache that rises to her throat and threatens to pull her under. Should she stay? Should she leave? What right did she have to be here, after everything?

Her pride claws at her, whispering that it’s too late. That she should walk away quietly, like she always did. But something deeper—something older and softer—fights back. The part of her that still remembers his tired eyes, his rare half-smiles, the way he tried even when no one else saw it.

Regret crashes against her chest like a wave, but it’s no longer paralyzing. It’s a reminder. Of time wasted. Of words left unsaid. Of the cost of silence.

She glances at Sieun’s mother, who doesn’t speak—just waits with that patient, knowing gaze. Her breath stutters, but her feet don’t move. Something has shifted. The guilt is still there, heavy and sharp, but now it’s tethered to something else—resolve.

She can’t go back. She can’t undo the past.

But maybe... she can be here now.

Maybe this is the moment that matters.

For a moment, the room is silent again. The machines continue to beep steadily, and the she wonders if Sieun can hear her. Wondering if maybe, deep down, he knows that she’s here, that she’s trying. Her eyes start to blur with tears, but she blinks them away.

She stands by his bed, her hands shaking slightly as she places them on the edge of the bed, as she closed her eyes and whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sieun-ah"

The next day felt like a blur.

She quietly steps into the sterile hospital room where Suho still lies, unmoving. She finds solace in the mundane, almost as if speaking about ordinary things could bridge the chasm of everything that had happened recently.

She talks to him, her words flowing easily, the way they used to when everything was simple. She tells him about her day—how the schoolwork felt heavier than usual, how his grandmother seemed well despite the worries she had about him. And she mentions Sieun too, his mother, how strange it felt to walk that line between regret and the need to reconnect.

“I saw his mom yesterday,” she continues, her voice softer now. “She said he’s not critical... but his nervous system’s been hit harder than I expected. He’s having trouble... sleeping. I didn’t know, Suho... I thought I was the one to blame for everything.”

She doesn’t expect an answer, but the words feel like they needed to be said.

She pauses, blinking away a few tears, but laughs softly to herself as she recalls the comforting words of Sieun’s mother. “She said I wasn’t the cause of it... that people sometimes have to go through things alone before they come back. I guess... I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The quiet hum of the machines fills the silence as she sighs, her shoulders slumping as though the weight of it all is settling in. She leans back, taking a long breath, her exhaustion creeping in after days of emotional strain.

Her eyes flutter closed, and before she knows it, the chair becomes a quiet refuge, the steady beeping from Suho’s side becoming the lullaby she never thought she’d need.

Her hand, instinctively, rests on Suho’s, and in the quiet of the night, she falls asleep. It’s not the restful sleep of peace, but the kind that brings temporary relief—a brief escape from the chaos of everything around her.

And even if it’s just for a moment, she finds some comfort in the familiarity of the space, the stillness, and the softness of hope that maybe, just maybe, things will begin to heal.

She stirred awake slowly, but didn’t move. The heaviness in her limbs wasn’t from sleep—it was from everything else. Her head remained rested against the hospital bed, her hand still loosely curled near Suho’s.

The room was dim, still caught between the fading night and the gentle glow of morning.

The door creaked open quietly. She heard it but didn’t open her eyes. Part of her wanted to turn, to see—but she stayed still. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was both.

Then, his voice.

“Suho… I’m sorry I’m late.”

Her breath caught in her throat. That voice, distant yet achingly familiar, dragged her right back to every moment she spent waiting—for answers, for closure, for him.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, her fingers twitching slightly.

And then, the second wound.

“I’m sorry, Dokja-ah.”

It was said softer, like a ghost brushing past her.

She heard the shuffling of shoes, the sound of someone about to leave. Her pride could’ve let him walk. Her anger, too. But grief, time, and the ache of everything unspoken pushed her forward.

She sat up slowly, eyes still fixed ahead, and her voice—tired but sharp—cut through the sterile room, as the machine beeping echoed.

“Took you a year to say that?”

The footsteps paused. Silence stretched—long enough for her heart to pound in her ears.

He froze.

The sound of her voice—raspy, fragile, but laced with something unmistakably raw—stopped him in his tracks. He faced her, still seating on the chair faced forward. She didn’t look at him.

Not yet.

Her eyes stayed on Suho, like she was still guarding something, or maybe just trying to keep herself from unraveling.

A long silence passed before she finally turned her head, just slightly. Enough to see the outline of him in the soft light.

Her gaze didn’t soften, but it didn’t harden either. It just held.

“I waited,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Not for an apology. Just… something. Anything.”

Her hand brushed lightly against Suho’s, grounding her. She didn’t want to cry. Not again. Not in front of him.

“But you disappeared,” she continued. “Like none of it mattered. Like we didn’t matter.” Her voice wavered, but her words stayed steady. “You don’t get to walk in and say sorry like that’s enough.”

She wasn’t yelling.

She didn’t need to.

Her silence hurts the both of them.

She looked at him then, fully—and for a moment, he looked like the boy she used to know. And someone else entirely.

Still, her next words weren’t bitter. Just… tired.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Sieun.”

And beneath it all, she meant it.

Do you even know what you left behind?

He stood there, caught in the doorway like someone who didn’t belong in the scene he'd wandered into. His hands twitched at his sides, empty. Always empty when it came to her. And yet, somehow, this felt heavier than any fight he’d ever taken.

Her words didn’t cut—they lingered.

Hung in the space between them like mist over a lake he was too afraid to step into.

He wanted to speak.

He wanted to explain.

What could he say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse?

So he just looked at her.

The way her shoulders curved inward now. The way her voice cracked like a fault line trying to stay closed. The way she kept glancing at Suho—as if he were the bridge between them. As if he was the only one allowed to still believe in them both.

He swallowed the guilt, thick and sharp. “I didn’t know how to come back,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And when I finally did… I wasn’t sure I deserved to.”

She didn’t respond—not right away.

But her looked says it all, "You didn't even try?"

So he took a step closer.

“I didn’t stop caring,” he murmured. “I just… didn’t know how to carry it without breaking.”

"You think I didn’t notice, but I did," she said, her voice low, not shaking, not angry—just tired. The kind of tired that sits deep in your bones, where no sleep can reach.

She let out a breath, almost a laugh, but it was hollow.

"I just didn’t want to believe it. So I made excuses. I told myself you were busy, or overwhelmed, or just... thinking things through. I waited. I gave you space. And you took it—so much space there was nothing left of you. No message. No call. Not even a goodbye. Just... absence. You left, and I stayed behind trying to stitch something back together that I didn’t even break." Her hands were still clenched at her sides, but her shoulders had slumped slightly, the weight of it all pulling her down again.

"Do you know what that feels like?" she asked, not looking at him now. "To lose everyone, one by one, and then have you—you—just disappear like you were never part of any of it? Suho ended up in a hospital bed. Beomseok vanished like smoke. Yeong-i stopped answering. And then there was just me. Alone. And you were supposed to be the one who stayed." She turned her head toward him, finally meeting his eyes again.

"I waited for you. I waited so long, and it got quiet. So quiet that it hurt. I’d stare at my phone for hours. I'd start typing something to you and delete it before I sent it. I’d run out of reasons to pretend like it was okay, like you were coming back. But I still hoped. Isn’t that sad? I still hoped." Her voice wavered now, just a little. But she didn’t let it fall apart.

"I kept asking myself, what did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Should I have asked more questions, held on tighter, yelled, cried, anything? I was folding myself into pieces trying to find the version of me you wouldn’t walk away from." Her breath caught, but she blinked it back.

She didn’t cry.

She didn't want to anymore.

"And now you're here, and you look sorry, but sorry isn’t a time machine. Sorry doesn’t put things back where they were. Sorry doesn’t tell me why you thought I couldn’t handle the truth when I was already surviving the wreckage you left behind." She took a step back.

"You left. You made that choice. And I lived with the silence. Don’t come back now and act like you were the one hurting."

She stood now, walking past the bed until she was closer to him—arms still at her side, fists clenched.

She shook her head, a bitter laugh slipping past her lips before she could stop it. It sounded smaller than she expected. Tired, too.

“I waited,” she said, the words sitting heavy in her throat. “Every day, I waited for you to come back. And when you didn’t… I started to hate you. But worse than that—I hated myself.”

Her voice thinned, the way it does when something old and buried rises too fast, too sharp. Like the weight of it had finally lodged in her chest and was pressing, hard.

“Because I kept thinking—if I’d just opened my mouth. If I hadn’t let my pride win. If I’d said anything instead of staying silent... maybe we wouldn’t be here. Standing like strangers, pretending we used to be something more.”

Sieun looked pale, like the guilt in his chest had found its way to his face. He looked like he wanted to reach for her, but didn’t. Couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Softer now. Like he meant it, but didn’t believe it was enough.

She looked at him, hollow-eyed.

“I don’t need your sorry,” she said. “I needed you.”

The silence that followed didn’t feel empty. It felt deafening—like the aftermath of a scream. Like the room itself was holding its breath.

She turned away and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, pretending the motion was casual. It wasn’t.

“If you’re going to leave again,” she said quietly, “just go now.”

“I’m not—” he stated.

“Don’t promise me things,” she snapped, too fast. “You’re not good at keeping them.”

That stopped him. His gaze dropped for a second, shame flickering across his face. But when he looked up again, something had changed. His eyes weren’t defensive or desperate. Just steady. Heavy with everything he hadn’t said until now.

“I know,” he said. “I know you did. You waited.”

He stepped away from the door, not closer to her—but toward the weight between them. Like he was choosing, finally, not to run.

“You think I didn’t want to come back?” he said, his voice quiet. “I did. Every day I told myself—just one message. Just one call. But then I’d remember the way you looked at me the last time. Like I’d already broken something important.”

She opened her mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to agree—but he kept going.

“I couldn’t face Suho. Or you. Or who I used to be. Because after everything fell apart, I thought it was my fault. I thought I ruined everything. And maybe I did.”

There was no anger in his voice. Just weariness.

“I told myself staying away was cleaner. That I wouldn’t hurt you more by showing up broken. But the truth is... I was just scared. Scared of being the one who couldn’t fix what he shattered.”

She didn’t speak. She just stared, hands clenched at her sides, like letting them relax might make all of this too real.

“I thought forgetting would be easier if I stayed gone. But I didn’t forget,” he said. “I just kept losing parts of myself, until there was nothing left that felt like enough.”

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His words came steady, quiet—but sharp enough to cut.

“I couldn’t face it. I told myself I was protecting you, giving you space, whatever lie made it easier to breathe. But the truth is—I was a coward. Not the dramatic kind, not the ones who run screaming. The quiet kind. The kind that slips out the back door and convinces themselves it’s mercy.”

He looked at her then, really looked—like maybe it had taken this long to let himself.

“I thought if I stayed away long enough, you’d stop needing me. That you’d forget whatever version of me you used to count on. That you’d move on, and I could pretend I didn’t break anything.”

She didn’t say a word. Her jaw was tight. Her eyes were red. But she listened.

“I saw Suho in that bed,” he went on, softer now. “I saw you next to him. And I realized how much I missed. How much I left you to carry. Alone. You always carried everything so quietly—I think I convinced myself you’d be okay without me. But you weren’t. And I wasn’t okay without you either.”

He took a step forward, not asking permission. Just letting her see that maybe—for once—he wasn’t hiding behind silence.

“I’m not going to make promises. I don’t think I have the right to anymore. But I will say this: I never stopped thinking about you. And I was wrong. You didn’t deserve that kind of silence. You didn’t deserve to feel like you were the one left behind.”

“I’m not here to undo it,” he said, voice low, steady. “I know I can’t. I know showing up now doesn’t erase anything.”

His gaze lingered on her—the shine in her eyes that wasn’t light, but tears; the shadows beneath them carved by sleepless nights; the way her hair had grown longer, falling like silence across her shoulders.

She looked heartbreakingly beautiful. Not in the way the world defines it, but in the way sorrow shapes someone who kept going anyway.

And it killed him—

That he was the reason her eyes were wet.

That her sadness wore his name.

She stood there, shoulders tight, something trembling at the edges of her expression. She wanted to scream. Or cry. Or fall into his chest and tell him to hold her like nothing ever broke. But all she could say was, “Then don’t leave again.”

He looked at her, really looked—no flinching, no turning away.

“I won’t,” he said. “Not if you want me to stay.”

The moment his words settled between them, she didn’t think—she moved.

Two steps. Three.

She crashed into him.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders with a desperation that trembled. He froze at first, caught in the sheer force of her pain, then slowly—gently—his arms came up, holding her like she might disappear again if he let go.

Her voice broke between sobs against his shoulder. “I hate you… for disappearing from me.” Her fists curled into his jacket like she wanted to push him away and pull him closer at the same time.

“I hate that you left without a word. I hate that I waited. That I made excuses. That I let you take everything with you.” Sieun didn’t flinch. He just held her tighter, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head, grounding her in the way she didn’t know she still craved.

"I know" he whispered into her ear, as his hands rested carefully on her waist, "I hate myself too."

Her crying wasn’t loud—but it hurt. It was the kind of crying that sounded like years of swallowed grief cracking open in the arms of someone who once knew her heart.

And in that hospital room, with the beep of Suho’s monitors humming steady in the background, it was the most honest they’d ever been.

No more pride.

No more what ifs.

No more sleepless nights.

No more wondering.

No more pretending.

Just them.

The two of them.

And maybe Suho too.

Just them—tired, broken, but finally, finally not alone.

The sobs had quieted into soft sniffles. She didn’t let go at first—but Sieun gently pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes. His voice still low from everything that had been said. "I have to go."

She didn’t flinch. She just blinked, slow and steady, like she was trying to brace herself for something she already knew. “They’re waiting for you, aren't they.” she said to him.

That made him pause. His brow pulled in, confused. “Have you met them?” She nodded once, wiping gently under her eye with the edge of her thumb. Her voice softened, raw at the edges. “They remind me of Suho, Yeong-I and...Beomseok before.” She whispered like a broken tale.

There it was—the way his shoulders dipped, almost imperceptibly. Something in him shifted. A ghost passed between them. And for the briefest second, something rare flickered across his face: a smile. Small, hesitant. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it curled faintly at the corners, like it was trying.

Like it still hurt.

“You want to meet them?”

The question sat between them like glass. Fragile. Waiting.

She looked down, flexed her fingers once, then met his eyes again.

“Do you want me to?”

The air shifted—just slightly. It was still thick with history, but the weight of it wasn’t unbearable anymore. Something in it had softened. And for once, there was no panic in his silence.

He didn’t rush to answer. He just breathed.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “I think I do.”

She took a breath of her own, the kind that comes from choosing to stay, even when the past clings to your ribs. Then she stepped forward—close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed, not quite touching, but near enough that warmth moved between them again.

“Then let’s go,” she said.

So they did. No grand declarations. No clean endings. Just two people walking slowly through the quiet, side by side, carrying what couldn’t be fixed—but not alone this time.

They stepped into the lobby, their fingers still loosely threaded—barely holding, but not letting go. The world outside the hospital buzzed with fluorescent hums and distant footsteps, louder now, clearer somehow. And yet, the quiet between them was no longer something sharp. It was calm. Steady. A kind of peace.

Sieun’s pace faltered when he saw them.

Jun-tae stood with a gaze filled with worry. Go Tak was next to him—always alert, the crease between his brows softening the moment his eyes landed on Sieun. Baku sat on the bench, knee bouncing restlessly like he’d been trying not to bounce off the walls entirely.

Jun-tae noticed first.

“Sieun,” he said simply.

Go Tak straightened, the edge in his posture lifting slightly. “You okay?”

Sieun gave a small nod. His voice was low, but there was something solid in it now.

“Yeah. I'm pretty sure.”

He didn’t elaborate, but none of them needed more than that.

Jun-tae gave a tearful confession, she smiled at him. He was a nice kid. Then this guy—stands up and pats him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Saying that he doesn't need to worry about Sieun at all. Go Tak offered a small nod, concern folding quietly into relief.

“Took you long enough,” he said, voice just above a murmur.

This guy, Baku.

He stood with all the dramatic energy of someone who’d been holding back a performance, like the entire hospital lobby was his stage and he’d just found his cue. With a flourish only Baku could pull off, he patted Jun-tae’s shoulder—a casual gesture that somehow still managed to be loud—and then turned, eyes narrowing like he’d spotted something scandalous.

His gaze dropped to their hands—still loosely laced, still warm from all the unspoken things they hadn’t let go of yet. Baku’s eyes darted between them, growing comically wide. He pointed, slowly, accusingly, like he’d uncovered a government secret.

“WAIT—SIEUN—YOU—SHE—YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Sieun blinked.

She blinked.

The hand-holding, still soft between them, hadn’t quite registered until that exact moment.

Sieun looked down at their hands like he was just now remembering he’d been holding hers. She didn’t let go, though. Neither did he.

Go Tak rolled his eyes with a sigh. Jun-tae chuckled softly even with tears brimming his eyes.

But Baku was already mid-spin, arms out, voice raised dramatically.

“Can we just take a moment to appreciate this development? Sieun! With a hand-holding—a hand-holding!—in public!”

Sieun groaned under his breath.

“It’s not like that.”

She lifted her chin a little, trying not to smile.

“We’re just close.”

Baku gave them both a slow, skeptical once-over before the corners of his mouth curled up into a knowing grin.

“It’s like the confession scene in Slam Dunk,” he said, voice dipped in exaggerated awe, clutching his chest as if overcome by the sheer romance of it all. “You know—when Rukawa says nothing but it’s everything? The hands, the silence, the undeniable tension—ah, iconic.”

She laughed at him, “…Rukawa never confessed.”

“That’s the point!” Baku cried, throwing his arms up. “The beauty is in the restraint! In the mutual understanding! In the unspoken emotions shimerring beneath the surface!”

Go Tak sighed, clearly done with this.

No one bothered correcting him again.

The group moved on, steps falling into rhythm. The jokes kept coming, the teasing never quite biting. And between all of it, their hands stayed where they were—still laced, still sure.

She smiled as she watched them—three boys tangled in their usual chaos, laughter sparking like old warmth in a place too quiet for too long. Her voice came low, almost a sigh dressed in fondness.

“Wah… he really is like Suho.” She murmured quietly but enough for Sieun to hear. At the sound of her, Sieun turned. His gaze found hers, lingering—not with surprise, but something quieter. Something like recognition. “You’re leaving?”

She nodded, the edges of her smile softening. “I should. I’ve been here too long… and you’ve got company now.” But he was already moving before she finished, closing the distance like a reflex he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’ll walk you out.”

The three looked at them, and just let them be.

They stepped into the hall together, silence pressing gently between them—not heavy, not awkward, just full of all the things neither of them had the courage to name.

Then, from behind them—

“YEAH, SIEUN—TAKE CARE OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” Baku’s voice rang out, unfiltered and obnoxiously proud.

Sieun didn’t miss a beat.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

He stated, but his eyes glint at him. "Back off"

Baku grinned wider, unbothered. “So I can ask her out?” A sharp thwack cracked through the air as Go Tak smacked the back of Baku’s head, exasperated. “You idiot.”

She laughed, quietly.

And Sieun, for a moment, almost smiled too. He grasped tightly to her hand as they walked side by side.

The automatic doors slid open in front of them. The cold outside air kissed her cheeks, sharp and sobering. Sieun stepped out beside her, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes cast toward the horizon like he was searching for something that hadn’t quite arrived yet.

They walked a few steps in silence, their shoulders not quite touching, but close enough to feel the presence of one another.

“I wasn’t planning to stay long,” she said quietly, watching her breath curl in the air like smoke. “But it felt hard to leave.”

Sieun looked at her. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

She nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. “I didn’t know what I wanted to say when I saw you again,” she admitted. “But it was never about the words, was it?”

“No,” he murmured. “It was about showing up.”

The silence this time wasn’t heavy. It hung between them like a thread, soft and delicate, but strong enough to hold something unspoken.

She paused near the curb, the edge of where she had to go. He stopped with her.

“Text me,” she said again, barely above a whisper. “Even if it’s just one word.”

“I will.” This time, she smiled—not wide, but real. She took a step backward, eyes still on him.

“Take care of them, okay?” He nodded. “I will.”

And when she turned to leave, he didn’t stop her—not out of apathy, but trust. Trust that she would turn around if she ever needed to, and he’d be there.

Sieun stood beneath the washed-out glow of the awning, the light pooling softly at his feet. He didn’t call her name. Didn’t move. Just watched as she walked into the night, her figure slowly swallowed by shadows and streetlight.

She didn’t look back. Not at first.

But a few steps before the crosswalk, she stopped. The kind of pause that wasn’t hesitation—it was decision.

Then she turned.

Her eyes weren’t bright with tears, and her expression held no drama. Just a kind of quiet knowing. She walked back toward him, deliberate, steady. When she stopped again, it wasn’t hesitation—it was declaration.

From her pocket, she pulled something small.

Then—flick—the arc of motion was smooth, unceremonious. It landed in his hand with the soft clink of metal.

A black punch ring.

Sieun blinked down at it, the cool weight settling into his palm. He didn’t need to ask why. Her voice came low and firm, laced with something fiercer than sadness. “You can’t possibly win with just a ballpen, Sieun-ah. I don’t know what you’re fighting for… but you better win.”

And just like that, she turned.

No goodbye. No glance over her shoulder.

Only the echo of her footsteps and the charged silence she left behind.

Sieun stared at the ring, the hard curve of it pressing into his lifeline.

And then—just barely—a smile found its way to his face.

Not joy. Not hope.

But the kind saying that he was ready.

Ready for her.

Reay to face it all.

After all, he is a hero. A weak one.

♡ note ───── I'd do anything just for you to be mines again. I felt sadness pour into me. When you became a stranger, I knew that you'd be leaving me. Then you became a danger, I felt sadness pour into me.

♡ note ── hope you enjoy it, this would be the last part <3 Probably there would be another one but in S3

───── ★ requested by : @heeknow @alwaysgenerousvoid @snowflakemoon3 @yeon103 @kellystyles18 @littlebluebird2000 @hollxe1 @dripoftheseus @enhajungwonheart @energydrinkstastegood @zuwizy @trasshy-artist @cassieeelim @myouiwp @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @rexxiiia @aple-piie @sarangs-world-02 @enhacolor

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calumfmu · 1 year ago

Text

i heard you like magic

Steddie x AFAB!reader; 5.9k+ words

Eddie spoke often of Steve, mentioning how much he couldn't stand him, him stealing Dustin from him, being rude, so perfect in his perfect little house. You thought the feeling was mutual until you laid eyes on him, immediately understanding the tension was more than they both led on.

cw: riding, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, p in v, threesome, blowjobs, Steve eating it from the back (gasp!), Eddie being (kinda) dominant, angst, hidden feelings, smut, smut, smut...

“So… this girl…” Steve began, mouth full as he stole a bag of chips off of Robin’s lap. “She’s like hot hot?”

Eddie stared at him, lip slightly curved up in a grimace as he watched crumbs come out of the younger man’s mouth. His affliction for him had grown during the last few weeks, but he still was wary of the man in general. Dustin’s urges to make them friends fell short most of the time, the two men bickering most days an attempt was made. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his body towards Steve, running his eyes over his stupid corduroy sweater.

“You jealous, Harrington?” He asked, grin growing as he saw Steve’s face redden with the accusation. A cough came out of his mouth as he choked a piece of the food down.

“Ladies love me, Munson,” he shot back, cutting a look to Robin as she cackled. A faux serious expression crossed her face as she pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze. “I couldn’t be jealous of someone who doesn’t exist.”

It was a running joke amongst the friend group. Even worse than the questionable presence of Suzie when Dustin first mentioned her, nobody believed it when Eddie mentioned the “hottest chick you’ll ever meet”. He fought for his life trying to convince the group that he did pull, he did have people his age interested in him who weren’t solely into DND.

“But you could be jealous of someone who’s gotten laid more recently than you,” Eddie quipped back, leaning his elbows on the arm of the chair to stare Steve down. Steve sat reclined in his seat on the couch, hand propped on the arm, legs crossed as he held the eye contact. Robin’s eyes darted in between the two of them, finger held in front of Dustin’s face who wanted to cut out the argument before it even began. A growing smile sat on her face, nearly shaking with excitement as the tension grew.

“Is that so?” Steve’s mouth formed an upside down smile, mockery hidden in his words. “Does her name happen to start with ‘Right’ and end in ‘Hand’ by any chance?”

The smirk dropped from Eddie’s face, tongue running over his front teeth between parted lips. Briefly glancing down at the movement, Steve rolled his eyes, shoving another chip into his mouth.

“Wish it was you, big boy?” Eddie sneered, leaning even further as his voice dropped low. Robin gasped around her smile, eyes fixated on Steve as his face turned up, irritation covering his gestures.

“Oh, shove i-”

“Children! Please!” Dustin’s voice cut through the air, hands coming up to wave between the older men. Reluctantly, all three turned their bodies to face the young teen, watching as he pinched his nose bridge. “I swear, somehow I end up watching you guys and your bullshit instead of the other way around.”

The tension dissipated, Eddie leaning back in his seat as Steve crossed his arms over his chest, turning his body dramatically the other direction. Robin sat content, back against the couch and her legs crossed in front of her, eyes fixated on the TV across the room.

“I was just saying,” Steve grumbled, waving a hand in their direction. “Must be hard entertaining your pillow all the god damn time.”

“You know wh-”

“You guys!” The curly headed boy’s voice cracked as he shouted, standing up to move between them. Turning to Steve, Dustin sighed. “Steve… we know.”

Steve smirked at Dustin, eyebrows raising as he felt triumphant. The younger boy shot a look at Eddie sitting there, hating the way Steve just looked so happy as he pushed that perfect curl of hair out of his eyes.

“And… Eddie, I’m sure she’s…” Dustin trailed off, ignoring the protest Eddie gave him as he moved to go sit down back next to Steve. The man gaped at him, eyes flitting between the two.

“Henderson, you don’t believe me either?” Eddie was pissed, standing up as he placed his hands on his hips out of frustration. The younger boy shrugged, avoiding eye contact as Robin’s interest piqued yet again.

“I don’t think anyone believes you,” she said, leaning an elbow to rest of Steve’s knee. Leaning her head in her hand, she raised an eyebrow, chewing at her bottom lip. “You said you met her at a … rock show? Come on, what girl willingly goes to that shit?”

“My girl,” his eyes were glued to the ceiling, his mouth running over rude phrases he didn’t dare utter, no matter how bad he wanted to.

“Eddie, it’s okay, I’ll believe it…” she continued, nodding as she mustered up a serious expression. Eddie’s shoulders sagged in relief, feeling content as he finally had someone on his side. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. “…When I see it.”

“You guys can rightfully fuck off.” And with that, he turned on his heel, storming out of the Henderson home. He ignored Dustin’s calls of his name and the intertwined laughter of the older teenagers, he didn’t have to deal with that shit.

His fingers fumbled with pulling keys out of his pocket, cursing as they fell to the floor before he could unlock the vehicle. Grabbing them, he threw open the driver’s side door, cringing at the squeaking of his weight settling in. She was going to be in town later, the first time he had seen her in a month and two weeks—not like he had been counting. He was going to prove to everyone that she was real, she was Eddie’s girlfriend, everything and more in which he had described.

Eddie’s head was thrown back against the van wall, hair sticking to his forehead with his eyes shut. His fingers left pale marks in your skin, hips flush to his own as he rutted up into you, the smell of sex filling the dense air.

Knees firmly planted on either side of his hips, your fingers were interlocked behind his head, laced in his hair as moans escaped your mouth around his name, bouncing up and down on his cock, hitting that deep, sensitive spot inside of you. You couldn’t get enough of him, the smell of his cologne, his shampoo filling your senses. It had been too long since he had filled you like this, that last weekend you had seen each other lingering in your mind.

Your panties had been pushed to the side, short leather skirt hiked up to your mid section, breasts pulled out of the top of your shirt in the haste of the moment. Eddie’s clothes were still on, cock pulled out of the top of his pants as he fucked into you, jean material dampening as you leaked around him.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, mouth open as he stared at you, his head hit the van wall with every rise and fall of your hips, grunts falling out of his mouth. “You feel so good, so—ah, fuck—fucking g-good, baby.”

“Need you to fuck me harder, baby,” you breathed, grinding your hips in circles as you slowed your pace. You needed him deep, wanted to feel him in places you hadn’t before, anticipation not yet being fulfilled in his previous absence.

His eyes rolled back at your words, the grip on your hips disappearing as he went to grab the globes of your ass. He pulled his feet up, anchoring himself as he began to thrust up hard into you, shaking your body with every harsh movement. His hips began to stutter, brows knitting together as you leaned to press your mouth into his, he was nearing his orgasm, prolonging it to sit in this ecstasy. It barely could classify as a kiss, just a mush of mouths together as you both breathed heavy into it, Eddie sticking his tongue out to brush against yours, groan sitting in the back of his throat.

You felt your hips tense up as you neared your own, slick began nearly dripping out of you, walls clenching around his thick cock. With a shout, you came around him, vision blurring as you clenched, fluttering. Slumping against him, you grinded down, moaning as one of his hands came up to grip at the back of your head.

His thrusts turned slow, deep as he reached his peak, one hand tangled in your hair as the other wrapped around your waist, torsos pressed against one another. You felt a warm rush of liquid as he came inside of you, stilling as he pressed his teeth to your neck, leaving a deep, red mark in the skin.

You caught your breath, legs quivering as you sat on top of him, feeling the dull thud of his heartbeat in his chest. He pulled away from your neck, pressing a quick kiss to the skin before placing another on your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face.

“I missed you, baby,” he whispered, smile lines showing as he looked up at you. You giggled, nodding as you shifted your hips, a low groan escaping his mouth as he remained inside of you.

“I could tell, babe,” you laughed, running your hands through his hair. He hoisted you off of him, tucking himself in before adjusting your clothing, pressing kisses to the skin with every adjustment he made. You let him take his time, giggling with each brush of his lips against your skin.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, leaning up to press a kiss to your mouth. You leaned into it, hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Opening your mouth to him, you quickly nipped at his lip, whining when he pulled away. “You can’t—we’re never going to make it to my friends.”

“And what’s the harm in that?” A hand reached up to place on his chest, smile widening as he gripped your wrist, stopping it from sliding down further.

His face suddenly flushed, eyes leaving yours as he glanced around the van. Furrowing your brow, you placed that same hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to you. He met your eyes, nerves written all over him.

“They don’t, uhhh,” he began, poking out his tongue as he thought of what to say. “They don’t think you’re real.”

Your eyes widened at his words, a moment of silence passing before you cackled at him. His blush deepened further.

“Well, that felt pretty real, didn’t it?” Your hand rubbed at his cheek, other one coming to rest on his thigh as you kneeled in front of him. You pushed a faux innocence on your features, lip jutting out. “I could show you again? Prove it?”

His shoulders tensed as his eyes fluttered shut, cursing as you began to inch your hand up his thigh.

“Babe, you’re going to fucking kill me,” he said, jaw clenching and unclenching. “I’m actually going to die. Death through dick.”

You pulled away, crouching as you stood in the bed of the van, not being able to reach your full stretch of height. You clambered over the passenger seat, sliding in as you buckled up, feet hitched up on the dash. Eddie raised an eyebrow to you, confused as he wasn’t sure what was happening.

You turned towards him, arm stretching around the back of the drivers seat as your body turned.

“You going to sit there and look pretty all night, or do you want to prove to your friends I’m here?” You asked, laughing as he stood up, following your movements. He slid in the drivers seat, pushing your arm away before starting the engine. As he pulled out of the empty parking lot, you kept your eyes trained on him, enjoying the way his hair whipped behind him as wind poured through the side window.

He drove through the streets of Hawkins, knee bouncing as his other pressed the pedals. He chewed on his thumbnail, nerves tugging at his heart. He didn’t mention anything through the drive, but you knew he had so many things on his mind. Why he was so nervous, you had no idea, choosing to remain silent as you leaned back into your seat.

The house he pulled up on was beautiful, two stories, gray panels surrounding red double doors and greenery drowning out the background of the house. There weren’t neighbors any close in sight, the faint blare of music coming from deep in the house.

You glanced towards Eddie, eyebrow raised at the sight.

“You have friends who live here?” From what you had seen of Eddie, he didn’t seem like he would have any association with this type of person from Hawkins. He lived in a trailer with his uncle, prided himself in the social isolation he maintained for most of his life, and enjoyed playing a board game with 14-year-olds, for Christs sake.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled before hopping out to car to run around the van, opening the door for you. You smiled at him, hand gripping his as you stepped out. He closed the door behind you, hand on the small of your back as you began walking up the drive way. “Harrington… Steve, that is. He’s more of a friend of a friend, you know, forced to hang around him.”

The name was familiar, hearing it multiple times over the phone during your late night phone calls. The two of you rounded the side of the house, Eddie reaching up to unlatch a side gate leading to the backyard. From your memory, he claimed to not like the younger man, frustration dripping from his voice as he claimed he “stole the Henderson” kid from him. You didn’t know either of them, laughing at his complaints through the crackling of his voice over the phone.

“Mmm… Steve,” you teased, eyebrows wiggling at him as he lightly pushed you through the gate, shaking his head. You took a few steps, poking his side as he swung the gate closed. Despite his claims of hating the guy, you wondered if there had been something more, Eddie’s character not exactly screaming straight.

“Stop it,” he laughed, hand coming up around your shoulders. The voices and music began louder, a small gathering of teenagers appearing in the distance.

“I’m just saying, babe,” you said, leaning into his side as the two of you made it around the side of the house. You looked up at him, reveling in the way he glanced down at you, cheeks flushed at your teasing. “If he’s cute, just say that.”

He sputtered, mouth dropping open as he looked down at you. “I don’t—that’s not—he’s not-”

A voice cut his words, a younger, curly headed boy shouting out to him. “Eddie!”

You felt the way your boyfriend’s hands tightened on your shoulder, pulling you into him before coming closer into view. The kid ran up to you two, the smile on his face dropping as he glanced over at you.

“Who are you?” He was confused, eyes flitting between you and Eddie and the hand on your shoulder. You laughed, stepping closer to hold out a hand. His gaze narrowed, reluctantly taking hold of it to shake.

You said your name, introduced yourself as “the mysterious girlfriend.” Dustin, as you learned, beamed at the title, laughing out loud before dragging you over to the other people.

“You guys, look at this shit!” He exclaimed, hands on your shoulders as he shook you. You laughed at the loud gesture, feeling slightly nervous as they all looked at you. You heard their disbelief, ‘No way’s’ and ‘Nice, Munson’s’ were thrown in your direction. You were surrounded by the young teenagers, their voices piling over each other as they hounded you with questions.

“How much did he pay you?”

“Lucas, shut up, I doubt he’s that smart.”

“You actually like the music he listens to?”

“You’re like with him, with him?”

It became overwhelming, Eddie’s hands finding your shoulders relaxing you as you didn’t know which one to focus on.

“Relax!” He said, voice loud as it shut them up. He pointed out their names, a blur that you would have to memorize better at a later time. He guided you to one of the lounge chairs, seated next to the older teenagers, a couple in one, leaning against each other, and another in the one across from you, distance between them as they eyed you.

Immediately, you recognized Steve, Eddie’s phone descriptions of him matching true. His chestnut hair perfectly styled, large brown eyes complimenting his features, moles dotted around his face. His gaze was intense on you, jaw clenched as he took you in.

You waved hello and fell into the introductions to the group before settling into Eddie, finding comfort in his broad shoulders. Small talk occurred between you all, Steve remaining silent as his stare lingered between you and Eddie. You didn’t know his deal, confused on how Eddie “hated” him so much when he didn’t match the rude description you had heard so many times.

They were like a little family, all of these people you had just met, mingling with each other perfectly, personalities complimenting each other despite being so different. Before you knew it, you found yourself relaxed among them, Eddie gone from your side as he stood with the younger group of teens.

“Steve, right?” You found your voice, small as a conversation carried on next to you. His eyes shot to yours, eyebrows raising in surprised. He glanced at Eddie briefly before realizing the older man was stuck in a conversation with Dustin, a few feet behind you guys.

“Uhh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me,” he dropped his eyes to the floor, turning his body so he wasn’t staring at you. Laughing under your breath, you recognized what he was doing, trying to ‘play it cool’.

“Nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” You didn’t think his eyes could get any wider as he looked towards you once again, breathing even as he pondered over your words. A light smile sat on your face, knees tucked in your chest as your arms crossed around them.

“You have?” His voice was a low rasp as his face turned up. A brief flash of color tinted his cheeks before he adjusted in his seat, chest huffing at the end of his question.

“Yeah, Eddie talks about you, like, all the time,” you glanced at the others, noticing how you and Steve seemed rapped up in your own world. Nobody paid attention to the two of you, stuck in the midst of their own conversations.

“He does—What does he say?” The look on Steve’s face turned up even more, and a glint in your eye appeared as you realized what was happening. The enemy story they had painted about each other wasn’t as true as it seemed.

“Oh you know, this and that,” you chose not to elaborate, giggling at the way he seemed more confused. You didn’t want to toy with your relationship with Eddie, but did want to test the waters to see how far you could push it.

He settled down into his chair, lips pulled to the side as he chewed on his bottom lip, eyes darting out as he didn’t focus on anything particular. He opened his mouth to ask something, instead, chose not to as he sat there, thinking hard.

Smug, you leaned back in your chair, humour on your face as you realized what fun this was going to be. Eddie’s voice was loud as he poked fun at Dustin, laughing as he held the other boy in a loose headlock. You shook your head, noticing the way that Steve spared a few glances towards the two, eyes lingering on your boyfriend, his long hair framing the exposure of his neck.

You found yourself in the bathroom, running your hands under the sink as you stared at yourself in the reflection. A small gasp escaped your mouth as you noticed a dark red mark at the base of your neck, half hidden by your shirt. It hadn’t been there earlier, the ticking of time deepening the wound.

The memory of Eddie’s teeth on your neck sent a rush of heat through your body as you brushed your fingers against your skin. A knock to the door had you sitting up right, pressing the back of your hand to it, cooling its heat.

“Sorry, I’ll be right out!” You called, adjusting your hair before turning to look at your outfit, making sure everything checked out. Moving to turn around and dry your hands on the rack behind you, you startled as the door swung open, Steve standing behind it.

“Oh uh—sorry,” he breathed, eyes quickly glancing over your body as he stood in the way of the door. Your hands had paused mid-movement, gripping the towel between your fingers. “I thought you’d be in the other one.”

“No, I’m in here.” Closing your eyes briefly, you laughed softly at the obvious statement before turning towards him. “Guess I better go.”

Steve nodded, but made no effort to move, instead standing there, hands stretched between the door frame. His eyes ran over one more time, a deep flush covering both of your faces.

“Eddie’s out there, you probably should,” he said, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. In this moment, you realized how handsome Steve really was, understanding Eddie’s frustration towards him because God, was it unfair.

A moment passed as you stared, maybe twenty, you didn’t really know. The awkward air disappeared, filling with a tension of another kind as your eyes held each other.

“Yn?” Eddie’s voice startled you, sending you and Steve into motion as you two ran into each other, you trying to step out of the bathroom and Steve attempting to go in at the same time. You stumbled back, almost losing your footing as his hand reached out to grab you, large fingers stretched across your hip.

Eddie stared down at the grip, expressionless as it slowly fell off of your body, fingertips brushing the curve of your ass as Steve stepped fully in. The door closed with a soft thud behind you, Eddie inspecting your face as his was void with emotion. The hallway was silent, save for the sound of the clinking of Eddie’s chains around his wrist.

“What are you doing?” He asked, voice low as he blinking slowly at you standing there, hands clasped behind your back. The tone in his voice was accusatory, your head cocked to the side, pretending to not know what he was referencing.

“What d’you mean?” You batted your lashes at him, tongue slightly poking out between your smile.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he continued, crossing his arms to his chest. You dropped the look you were giving him, instead stepping to him to place a hand on his chest. Glancing back towards the door, you noticed the shadow of two feet below the crack, in which you could presumably imagine Steve standing there, ear pressed to the door. You looked up into your boyfriends eyes, a devious glint in your eye.

"I'm just making friendly conversation," you said, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. It was warm below your touch, the muscle twitching underneath your lips as he fought his smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he placed his hands on your hips.

The truth was that Eddie knew what you were doing, you knew what you were doing. It wasn't the first time you had toyed with the idea of another person joining the fun that you had together, late night conversations shared over the phone as you explored the ideas of your sex life. You were sure though that Eddie had no idea you would find that person in the midst of his friend group, with someone he had claimed he couldn't stand being around.

"A friendly conversation?" He clarified, head nodding as he smiled down at you. His gaze was mocking as you smirked up at him, head tilted to the side. "With Steve?"

You reached behind you, moving his hand lower on your hip so he gripped the curve of your ass where it met your thigh. His tongue ran across his red lips, you pressing a quick kiss to the wetness it left behind.

"I get it now, Eddie," you breathed against his mouth, inches away from his face. His fingers lifted the bottom of your skirt, dipping closer to the heat between your thighs. "He's so pretty, it's no wonder why you can't get him out of your mind."

Eddie swallowed loudly, eyes widening at your brashness. He had never told you what he truly thought of the man, he just assumed that you believed his words.

"I figured we could have a little fun, the three of us," you whispered at him. "While I'm in town for the weekend."

A slow nod came from him, barely noticeable before he leaned into you, only to be stopped by your finger pressing to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the skin there instead, head leaning back as he realized you weren't finished with your offer.

"Would you like that, Eddie?"

The hand remaining at your waist slid up the expanse of your back, feeling the smooth skin underneath your shirt. You realized the two of you probably looked raunchy, a compromising position that was a little too inappropriate for the public setting of the hallway.

"Me pressed between the two of you?" Your voice was low, intimate between as it carried in the air, but loud enough to be heard on the other side of the bathroom door. You knew Steve was listening, unsure if Eddie was aware of the same fact.

He was growing hard beneath you, the taut fabric of his jeans pressing into you.

"Or if you'd like... imagine Steve pressed between us. I bet he makes the prettiest of noises."

A low groan escaped his throat as he gulped, eyes fluttering shut briefly at the image. You had him right where you wanted him to be, stuck in state of wanting for the situation, offer right at his fingertips.

"How do you know he wants to?" Eddie's voice was shaky as he asked you, brow furrowed. You gave him a look, a silent 'really?' exchanged. You thought he had picked up on the looks Steve had been throwing him, you didn't even need to be around the two all the time to pick up on their sexual tension.

The bathroom door swung open, Steve standing there, flushed in the face as he avoided eye contact with the two of you. Pulling away from Eddie, you didn't adjust your clothing, the bottom exposure of your ass still on display. The front of his clothes were rumbled slightly towards his groin, shirt partially tucked in as if he had just had his hand stuffed down there. You chose to stare at that part of his body, finger coming up to fit between your teeth as he shifted nervously in front of the two of you.

"I'm going to-" He pointed down the hall, quickly leaving the scene before turning around, realizing he was going the wrong direction. You laughed at his descent down the stairs, feet tripping over one another as he scurried away. Eddie stood there dumbfounded, eyebrows raised as he followed Steve's trail.

You pulled down your skirt, adjusting your clothes as you stared down your boyfriend. His eyes held the staircase for a moment before landing on you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed together.

"Told you, babe."

You turned on your heel, following the direction that Steve had gone in to meet the group of teenagers at the bottom. You were giddy with emotion, excited to see where this weekend trip was going to take you.

The younger teenagers had left Steve's house about an hour ago, mentioning something about how boring you all were. Eddie complained at the rude comment, yelling at Dustin to watch his tone. While you enjoyed the company of the teenagers, you felt relieved for Eddie to step out of his 'dad mode' as you called it, wanting to see just how far he would be able to take it without their presence.

Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had lingered behind, choosing to partake in the weed that Eddie had brought out once the kids disappeared. You stayed back, instead, wading in the pool on your lonesome.

Steve's jaw had dropped once you rid yourself of your clothing, a pink lace matching set beneath as you jumped into the pool. Robin was funny, you learned, she had picked up on the weird, yet obvious behavior he was giving you. She chose to tease him, enjoying the way he crumbled at each quip.

"Pick your jaw up, Steve," she laughed, reaching out to push his mouth closed. He swatted at her hand, blushing deeply as he looked at you to see if you had heard. You did.

The night continued between all of you, Jonathan coming out of his shell more as the drug took its effects, making Nancy cackle with laughter as he shared some story that had happened to him earlier that week. Steve sat at the edge of the pool this time, feet dipped in with his jeans pushed up to his mid-calf. Robin and Eddie sat together, once passing a joint between each other, but now long gone, instead leaning close in each other's personal space. Steve had even opened up, choosing to speak to you more openly than he did previously, a more flirtatious tone taking his words.

"Wanna come up here?" He asked, patting the ground next to him. Steam came off of the water, the heating of the pool being a direct contradiction to his next words. "I think it's much warmer next to me."

You laughed, splashing water in his direction as he blocked his face from the droplets. "I'm sure you'd love that."

"I'm just looking out for Eddie's girl," he said, voice low as he dropped his tone. You swam up to him, leaning your elbows up to the cold concrete. Your arm brushed against his thigh, a sharp sting running through the contact.

"And who's going to look out for you?" You brushed your wet hair from your face, tongue darting out to catch the droplets that crossed your lips. Steve's lip was chewed raw as his eyeline bore into you.

"I think you'd manage just fine," he said, your hand coming up to be placed on his knee. His leg widened slightly at the placement, your damp fingers darkening the material of his blue jeans. He became lost in the touch, mouth parted as he fixated on your fingers.

A curse escaped his lips as you pulled his leg, causing him to fall into the pool with a loud splash. The other teenagers laughed at him, watching the way he bobbed up out of the water, hair flying wildly around his face as he brushed it out of the way. His sweater was about six shades darker, falling heavily on his shoulders as it dripped.

"Fuck you," he laughed, pulling his sweater off of his body, tossing it onto the concrete where he previously sat. He pushed the water in your direction causing a huge splash of water to cover you. A small tussle in the water began, you begging him to stop through tears of laughter as he repeatedly threw water in your face. You tried getting him back, failing as his wingspan was much wider than your own.

Eddie stared at the two of you, smile tugging at his lips. He was more okay with this than he should be, his dick thinking before his brain, he figured. Your words earlier confused him, had him questioning if the strong emotion he had felt for Steve this entire time was really hate—or if it was something else.

Jonathan stood up, stretching as Nancy followed his lead, "Hey, man, I think we're going to head out. It's getting pretty late."

Eddie bid a goodbye, eyes lingering on the two of you as you messed around the pool, you on Steve's back before he stood up to his full height, sending you flying backwards into the water. The flash of your matching set had him hardening in his pants, the promise of what was going to come later on the tip of his tongue.

"Rob, you coming?" Nancy asked, now standing in front of the sliding glass door. Robin shrugged, leaning back on her elbows. Nancy stared at her as if she wanted to say something, while Jonathan stood there, yawning into his elbow.

"I think I might want to stay back, you know, hang out," she said, eyes fixated on the two of you messing around in the pool. Silence lingered between them, all three pairs of eyes on her for a moment before she noticed, glancing up at them. Her fingers stopped in their tracks, caught balled up as they rubbed against her eye.

Eddie's gaze was incredulous, a bored look crossing his face as the brunette sat there, confused for a moment. Nancy shifted where she stood, blinking rapidly as she tried to hint with her eyes towards the two of you in the pool.

Realization crossed her features as she finally looked over at the two of you, mouth dropping open. "Ohhh," she said, nodding slowly as she met Eddie's gaze. Her thumb pointed in the pool's direction, chipped black polish covering the nail. "You want to—with Steve—oohh, and your girl—"

With a shake of her head, she laughed out loud, clapping her hands together. Eddie blushed, hating the way that Robin was just so loud and bold with her statement. A smug look crossed her face as she stood up, smoothing out the back of her shorts with the palms of her hands. She smirked at Eddie, saying "Fucking finally." before walking in the direction of the couple at the door. Eddie laughed under his breath, disbelief in his mind as everyone seemed to have noticed before he had.

"What's going on?" He heard Jonathan whisper at Nancy before he was shoved inside by the girl, Robin's laugh echoing behind him as the door closed.

Focusing on the two of you in the pool, Eddie grew nervous at the situation becoming more real. The two of you had stopped play-fighting at this point, standing in front of each other—closer than you should've been—as you tread the water. Somewhere along the way, his pants had joined the discarded sweater, dripping on the concrete. It had been a struggle for him to get them off, him cursing at you as you laughed, watching him struggle with the wet denim.

Your voice was a low whisper as you spoke something to Steve, chin tilted down as you look at him through your lashes, wet as they clumped together. Eddie could recognize that look anywhere, knowing that it already had Steve crumbling inside. He watched as your hand came up to brush against the hair on his chest, finger running up to brush against the adam's apple, applying a little bit of pressure as Steve gulped beneath the touch.

You swam a bit closer to the man, aware that Eddie was watching from afar. Steve was nervous, you could tell by the way he remained silent and still in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, invading his personal space as you made a show of biting your lip.

Coming even closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing in relief as his hands came up to your waist below the water. He gave you the green light, welcoming your touch as nervous fingers found their place on your hips. Warmth found you, filling your body in the coolness surrounding you. Pressing your chest to his, you parted your lips, stopping inches before his mouth.

For a moment, you stood there, none of you daring to make the first move as you both stared at each other, gazes interchanging between eye contact and staring at your mouths.

Steve leaned in first, capturing your lips into his as you moaned softly, tangling your hand in the wet mat of his hair. His mouth was soft and warm as he kissed you, hand sprawling over the small of your back as he brought you further into him. Your knee hitched up, hooking around the back of his leg as your lips moved together.

Suddenly, Steve pulled away, realization crossing his face as he turned toward Eddie, who stared at the two of you, mouth dropped open. His hands didn't leave your waist though, fingers digging into the skin as he felt lost in the moment. Feeling his hesitation, you held onto him tighter, leaning up to whisper in his ear as your eyes remained on your boyfriend.

"It's okay, Steve," you said, dropping a hand around his neck to trail down his chest. His breathing quickened as his gaze remained on the older man. Eddie looked like a predator watching its prey, hand lingering on top of his bulge, yet not moving. "Eddie wants you, just as much as you want him."

Steve let out a small moan at your fingers dipping below his boxers. Your fingers brushed the skin there, running across the thatch of hair that sat on his pubic bone.

"You want him, Steve?" He nodded dumbly at your words, eyes fluttering as you gripped him, fingers closing around his cock. You pressed a kiss to a spot beneath his ear. He groaned, hips thrusting up as you began to work him. "And I'm sure you want me too, right, Steve?"

He turned his head towards you, capturing your lips into his as your fingers ran over the length of his cock. He panted into your mouth, hips rutting up into your hand as you made out with him, tongues becoming nearly one as the kiss became dirtier. The feeling of him on you had your pussy fluttering, a throbbing between your legs as you imagined him pressing inside of you, stretching you out as you choked on Eddie's cock.

"Baby?" Eddie called out, pulling you away from the kiss. Steve moved to follow your lips, a trail of saliva connecting you two. Giggling, you pressed a hand to his cheek, stopping him as he chased you.

"Yeah?" Your voice was rough as Steve snuck a hand down, pushing your panties aside so he could run a finger along your slit. He pressed his lips to your neck, marking the skin right next to where Eddie had earlier. Another rush was sent to your core as you realized you were being claimed by the prettiest boys in Hawkins.

"Come out, I need to touch you," Eddie stood up, proudly adjusting the bulge in his pants as he stared down at you two. You pulled away from the man, not ignoring the way he whined at the separation. His hand slowly left your panties, dipping quickly at your clit before he completely removed himself.

You climbed out of the pool, sitting on the ledge before swinging your legs over, standing up to run over to your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laughing as his hand reached down to grab at your ass, a loud smack filling the air. He leaned down to kiss the taste of Steve off of your lips, taking his time in the embrace. Pulling away, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, eyes looking over your head to Steve.

He remained in the pool, eyes low as one of his hands was below the water, running over his own hardness in his pants.

Eddie turned towards the door, walking with you in his hands before turning towards Steve. "You coming, Harrington?" The two of you stepped inside, hearing the commotion behind you as you made your way towards the stairs. It was a splash of water and a loud curse as he clambered out of the pool, nearly planting his face into the concrete as he ran to catch up to you two.

You were pressed into the mattress, stomach flat on the bed as Steve hovered above you, hand on your neck to crane your head back to kiss him. The angle had your neck twisted, his cock digging into your ass as he lay above you. He ground his hips into you repeatedly, growing harder by each passing second as he moaned into your mouth.

Eddie's hands ran across your face as he sat in front of the two of you, legs splayed wide with his back pressed to the headboard. He lies almost completely naked, boxers pushed to his mid thigh as he ran his hand over his cock, working it to the sight of you and Steve making out above it.

It was the most compromising position you had found yourself in, heat flowing between your legs as all of your senses were filled with the men around you. Eddie groaned loudly as Steve's hand reached down between your legs to rub at your pussy, fingers dipping behind the lace of your underwear. Widening your legs with his own, he pushed a finger inside of you, smiling at the way you moaned into his mouth, saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth as you pushed your ass into his hips.

"Fuck," you moaned, working your hips to meet his pumps half way. Dropping your head down to rest on Eddie's thigh, you groaned at the feeling, your own hand reaching up to replace Eddie's. His head hit the back of the headboard, a bead of precum dripping out of the head.

Steve removed himself from you, the heat leaving you whining even as he pulled you up to your knees, pushing down the small of your back so you arched up into the air. You leaned on your elbows, briefly glancing behind you as Steve pulled down the lace panties, leaving them stretched between your knees.

Eddie's hand came up to lace in your head, tugging your towards his cock as you mewled at the feeling of Steve's tongue on you, lapping between your folds. It had you jumping, eyes fluttering closed before you wrapped your lips around the head of Eddie's cock. A groan in unison flew from all of your mouths as you pushed your hips back, grinding into Steve's face as you simultaneously pushed further down on Eddie.

Eddie's hand tangled into your hair to stop you from deep throating him, feeling his orgasm already building up in him as he looked at Steve licking into you. The man's eyes were shut as he dipped his tongue in and out of you, flattening his tongue to run up your slit, daring to flick his tongue over your hole, cheeks pulled apart to expose you completely. Eddie groaned as you hollowed your cheeks, hand moving to cup at his balls, bobbing your head over him. The two of you were so locked into the moment, it made his head spin.

"Fuck, Harrington," Eddie groaned, widening his legs as you jerked him, tongue running up his length from his balls to the tip. Spit and precum covered your lips as you sucked at the tip, staring up at him. "You look like you love that shit."

Steve hummed, eyes darting open to find Eddie staring at him, hands tangled in your hair as you choked on him. He smirked, nodding as he leaned down to suck at your clit. You moaned again, hips pressing back into his face.

"She tastes good," he muttered in between licks, tongue darting at your ass as he slipped two fingers inside. You fluttered around him, sticky white covering his fingers as they moved inside of you.

"You wanna fuck her next?" Eddie asked, pulling your hair out of your eyes as he began to slowly fuck your throat, enjoying the way you gagged around him when he pushed too far. You moaned at the conversation, both boys pretending like you weren't even there as they spoke about you.

Steve lifted his head, eyes focused on his fingers as they moved inside of you, other hand thumbing at your ass, watching the way he arched into the touch. Dipping his thumb inside, you moaned, another glob of slick falling around his fingers.

Looking up at Eddie, Steve nodded, cock pressed into the side of your ass from the angle he kneeled at. A third finger pressed into you and you pulled off of Eddie, your hand replacing your mouth as you whined into his hip.

"Fuck--I need something, baby," you moaned, pushing your hips back into Steve as he fingered you. Eddie nodded at your words, understanding the overstimulating emotion you felt. He sat up, fingers running through your hair as your mouth was drawn up in a silent sob, eyes squeezed shut.

"Move, Harrington," he said, squeezing the base of his cock as you panted into his thigh. His orgasm was on its verge, threatening to burst as Steve leaned down to shove his face even further into you than before, tongue moving rapidly as you rocked against his face.

Steve hummed a 'no', his fingers leaving you to rub at your clit, rubbing faster as you began to whine, hips twitching at his movements. It was almost too much for you, your orgasm flowing through you as you felt blinded, a scream caught in your throat. You buried your face into Eddie's thigh, fingers digging marks into his skin as you rode it out.

Eddie's fingers ran through your hair, irritation on his face as Steve slowly straightened up, smirk on his wet face. He licked your remnants off of him, hand shoved down the front of his boxers.

"You're such a brat, you know that, Harrington?" Eddie grumbles, maneuvering you so you lay on your back. You stared at the ceiling as you caught your breath, eyes fixated on Eddie as he crawled over to Steve.

His hand came up to grip his face, fingers digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look into his eyes. Steve's smirk was wide, eyes darting between Eddie's mouth and eyes.

"You're going to do something about it, then?" You moaned as Eddie crashed his lips into the younger man's, his clothed cock rubbing against Eddie's exposed one. The noises they made were pornographic, Steve running his hands over his hair, his back, his chest, anything he could touch. You could tell the moment had been building up for a while, their mouths moving over each other like they had been starved. Eddie pulled away first, reaching down to smack at Steve's ass.

"Go lay down."

Steve threw himself beside you, head tilted in your direction as he looked at you, chest heaving, breasts exposed. He reached up to grab one, fingers running slowly over the nipple as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Get up, I want you to ride him, baby."

Eddie's voice had you shivering, legs shaking as you stood up on shaky knees, palms pressed to Steve's chest. You grabbed his boxers, sliding them down his legs before tossing them to the side. You threw a leg over his waist, sitting on him, cock nudged in the cave of your pussy.

You moved your hips slowly, grinding against him as he moaned beneath you, head falling into the pillows as his hands found your hips, guiding your movements. Eddie kneeled behind you, boxers discarded now as his wet cock nudged into your back.

"Bend over, baby," He whispered into your ear, pressing a palm flat to your back as you leaned to press your chest into Steve. You kissed him, moving as you felt Eddie reach between you, guiding Steve into you. He was dripping wet, head pulsating as he pressed into you, slowly stretching you out.

The both of you moaned into each other's mouths, one of Eddie's hands running down the shaft of Steve's dick and the other pressing your hips down onto him. Once fully seated, you moaned, hips twitching as you felt him pressed in all the right places. Eddie's hands went to move you, raising slightly before stopping, your hands gripping at his waist as you tilted your hand to look back at him. He was fixated on where you two met, tongue poked out the corner of his mouth.

"Gimme a sec- I needa second-" You whined, not used to the width. Where Eddie lacked in girth, he made up in length, head often catching onto your cervix, having you whining, running from the brutal, yet blinding feeling most often. You felt Steve laugh slightly, the movement of his body having you drop your head to his chest, vibrations running through your body.

"I know, baby," Eddie whispered, moving your hips slowly as he guided the rise and fall of your hips. Steve stretched you out good, eyes squeezed shut as his moans carried in the air, arms wrapped around your torso. "Come here, baby."

You sat up, grimacing at the way you sank deeper. Eddie brought you to his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder as his hand snaked down, rubbing circles over your sensitive clit, breathing deep into your ear. He guided you with his other hand, not slowing down as he bounced you, eyes on Steve as he fell apart below you.

Eddie's guidance was brutal, not allowing you to slow down as you and Steve neared closer to your breaking points. Every touch Steve tried to give you, Eddie smacked it away causing Steve to curse at him, frustration amidst his high. He pulled at his hair, hands running over his face as he brought a pillow over him. You heard him shout into the pillow, feet coming up to rest on the bed as his knees bent, using the angle to fuck into you harder.

You came for a second time that night, a shout on your lips as Steve hips paused below you, filling you up as you clenched around him. Eddie let out a low laugh as he let go of you, watching the way you fell forward, chest smacking into Steve as he pulled the pillow away from his face.

"How was that, Harrington?" He teased, ignoring the way Steve threw the middle finger at him, running his other hand over your forehead, wiping the strands of loose hair that stuck to the skin. He slipped out of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Eddie leaned over you, your body sandwiched between the two men as you felt him prod at your entrance, pushing the cum that dripped out of you back in with his cock. You whined, pressing your face into Steve's shoulder as he pushed inside.

"Tell me if it's too much, baby," He whispered against your skin, hips moving slowly into you as you pushed back against him. His hips stuttered with each movement, you knew he was close before he even began. The overstimulation had you whining, a deep ache forming between your legs. His fingers dipped in between you, gripping at your boob as he fucked into you. You mouthed at Steve's neck, feeling his fingers run over your forearms, soothing you through Eddie's hips stuttering into you. Profanities fell from his lips, having you fall apart with each word.

You're so beautiful, baby, fuck—you look so good on my dick.

Such a slut, such a slut for me.

His hands wrapped around your throat, forcing your head back to look at Steve, head jerking forward with each movement of his hips.

Such a slut for Steve, too, huh, baby?

Look at him, baby, he loves this shit.

Steve moaned, cock stirring up again as you fell apart between the two of them, dripping down onto him.

Think you can cum again? Cum on my cock, show the brat what a good girl looks like. You think you can do that? Cum for him, and maybe we both can be inside of you... think about it, both of our cocks ins-

You shouted, eyes rolling back as your final orgasm left your body. Eddie followed suit, already hanging on by a thread, waiting for your cue before letting go. His orgasm was loud, a FUCK escaping his lips as he spilled inside of you.

He let you drop against Steve fully this time, listen to the whispers of him soothing you in your ear, you did so good. He collapsed next to the two of you, chest heaving as he watched the way Steve grabbed you in his arms, your head nestled into his chest. He hated to admit it, but you looked good in his arms, even better with the two of them surrounding you.

He felt Steve's eyes on him, glancing up at his doe eyes, wide as they bore into him.

"So... is this something we talk about or...?" Steve's voice was raspy, hand running circles into your back. You had fallen asleep, quickly and silently as every ounce of you was spent.

Eddie laughed, his own hand coming up to rest on you. Subconsciously, you leaned into the touch, a deep sigh spent into Steve's skin.

"I'm pretty sure everyone already knows," he muttered, laughing at the look on Steve's face. His mouth sputtered open, swallowing deeply.

"They said that?" Eddie's heart began racing at his look, nervous at the man's look. He didn't want to fuck this up, whatever this was. His feelings had been pushed down too far, for too long; he didn't want to confess, just to be rejected again.

"No, but—uh, I think that's why they left," he said, gaze dropping from Steve boring into him. "Rob said something about 'finally' before... they left."

Steve stayed silent, nodding as he looked down at you in his arms, snuggling into the heat of his arms. He didn't know what to say for a moment, opening his mouth repeatedly as he took back the sentences he began, but didn't finish.

An awkward silence lingered in the air, Eddie turning over as he figured Steve wouldn't say anything else in the moment.

"Well, I guess that takes care of it, then," his voice cut through the air, Eddie's head whipping around to stare at him, eyes wide with the fear of his next words. "Makes it easier for, ya'know."

Eddie laughed out loud, shocked at how this moment could've passed so much easier. "Makes it easier for what, Harrington? Us fucking each other?"

Steve blushed, a quick nod thrown to him. "Guess you could say that."

You sighed, lifting your hand to grab at Eddie's shoulder. Both boys looked at you, surprised at the movement as you should've been asleep, deaf to the conversation around you. You peaked your eye open at them, squinting in the bright light of the room.

"This means I have to visit more often, yeah?" Steve's laughter vibrated you, his chest shaking as Eddie leaned up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You preened at the touch, blushing as he looked down at you. Both boys were beautiful, smiles wide as their laughter carried through the room. It was a shock how you didn't implode right then and there, heart full as they held you.

a/n: I didn't know how to end it, don't hate me. I also don't know how to write anything less than 5k.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #steddie x reader #steddie x you #Steve Harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #smut #steddie x reader smut #steddie smut #okay #I've been thinking of this for ages #so I had to share #and idk how to write short things #someone pls help

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killa-cookie · 5 months ago

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hii :3c can I get a shadow milk cookie x gn reader angst?? were like reader used to worked with before his corruption but when he became corrupted they stop working with him, left him and reunited with when he escaped the silver tree

(sorry if it's long and wordy LMAO)

oohfph angst

REUNION

Shadow milk x Gn! Reader angst

"______ Cookie, could you get me that book?"

"Yes Bluebery Milk!"

You quickly dashed to his side in a Swift motion, handing him the book eagerly. He softly smiled at you in response as he began reading.

"You know, ________. You're the best assistant I could ever ask for. " he softly hummed gazing at you, waiting for a response

"Since when did you get all sappy Mr. blueberry— I know you like complimenting others but now this is a leap!" You exclaimed, a shocked look on your face.

"Hm, is that just an excuse for you saying you don't believe me?" His tone amused as he lifted his head from the book, properly looking at your dumbfounded face.

"N-no way! I always believe you Sir. Blueberry!" You stammered, he was right though. You couldn't just accept a praise as high as that from such a kind figure.

"I know you do, but I also know that you don't believe high praise." His gaze softened.

"Ugh— it's not fair you know everything Sir!" You groan in defeat, he was always right. He knows he's always right, and you do too.

"I am the virtue of knowledge, _______." He deadpanned at you. He then chuckled, amused by your behavior.

"Gh... Just promise you won't do anything you might regret in the future... " you looked at the ground then back to him. His expression curious.

"Now why would I do that? But, I promise."

— those days were shortly lived.

Destruction surrounded you, fires spreading like light. The nearest buildings were destroyed, your favourite library... Gone.

You had evacuated all the nearby townsfolks, all those innocent. You helped those trapped in debris, those trapped under wood and other solid materials.

You were scrambling, while hiding from the attacks those beasts had struck. You can hear Burning Spice's loud laughs, amused by what he had inflicted onto the sacred land.

As you were looking to find more townsfolk, you met eye to eye... With him.

He looked sinful, he wasn't the blueberry milk you knew, he was a monster.

"_______ cookie! I can explain—" he knew what kind of monster he had become, he couldn't explain but he wanted you to calm down, he hated seeing you scared... Scared of him.

"NO— YOUR A MONSTER; A BEAST. YOUR NOT THE COMRADE I HAD ALWAYS ADMIRED, STAY BACK.!" You screamed at him with all the oxygen you had in your body, enraged at what he had done.

"______ cookie...." He weakly reached out to you, as you quickly backed away.

You hated him, despised him. He had given into temptation. He broke your promise, don't do anything you would regret in the future.

He was too distracted by how you looked at him, and you took this as the chance to run away.

By a miracle you had gotten away, but the destruction had inflicted good damage onto you.

You leaned onto a rock and sobbed, you had never thought this would have happened. You missed blueberry milk cookie, you missed everyone. They weren't themselves anymore.

—

"So you were a librarian that served Shado— I mean, Blueberry Milk Cookie?" GingerBrave exclaimed in awe. It was an honor to meet such a historical figure as your self!

"You can refer to him as Shadow Milk in front of me, no worries. But we must focus on keeping him and the others inside that tree."

Your tone slowly drifted to seriousness. You didn't want him to inflict the same damage he had done in the past.

Especially on this sacred Faerie kingdom, even if they knew you used to work for Shadow Milk. They treated you as an equal, as if you didn't work for a sinner, a BEAST. This land was sacred and pure, you adored it.

Even though you didn't fully understand this Dark Enchantress thing... You loved traveling with gingerbrave and the others, you weren't so sure about pure vanilla though... He reminded you so much of blueberry and you hated it.

The battle had already begun and not even an hour had passed, the rift in the tree slowly opening wider and wider by the minute. You couldn't do much since you were only such a simple librarian.

" WE MUST FIGHT OFF AS MUCH AS WE CAN FAERIES! " the elder spoke, charging at the rift at full speed. You admired his brave and courageous demeanor for an old man. (You were probably older than him)

White Lily's bud helped in trying to close the portal, but it wasn't enough.

Elder Faerie had sacrificed himself for more power would be bestowed unto Lily, a brave action indeed. You admired that.

It was then strong enough to hold the rift for a while, but you were still paranoid. It's as if a voice was calling you to get closer to the portal, you were always somewhere near it but you wouldn't dare to get closer.

You were guarding the rift the whole day, not even taking a break. The Faerie soldiers were slightly worried because you weren't moving your stance a bit and stayed in the same position for hours. One of them even thought you had become a statue and stared panicking.

You decided to shut your eyes for a mere moment... For a MERE MOMENT.

"T-THE PORTAL! IT'S OPENING AGAIN!" A Faerie soldier yelled, he quickly asked others for backup and support. The Faerie soldiers were very diligent in their attacks.

You had been helping them by casting spells of bounding onto the rift, but it just absorbed the spells- disappearing without a trace. You then decided to test your luck and get dangerously close...

You felt an eerie presence as you got closer and jolted backwards in fear. He was there, waiting. The gingerbrave team had just arrived helping in the rift. But it wasn't enough.

Then... He emerged from the portal.

"OH MY OH MY~! WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE—"

Shadow milk's voice was filled with excitement, he looked around for a bit until his eyes settled onto you. His gaze softened for a hit before sharpening once more. He told himself that you were just forced to be him, you wouldn't actually hurt him?

He tried making himself believe that you would never betray him, you were his trusted comrade! But deep down he knows... His most precious treasure would die just for him to be killed.

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maybankslover · 7 months ago

Note

hii, i loved ur ‘so long, london’ series so much it’s insanely well written😭 i think a similar fic with them breaking up over him cheating (or not, just being overly close) with odessa and reader releasing an album like HMHAS by billie about him, specifically ‘the greatest’ and ‘blue (or maybe even ‘wildflower’ if she’s trying to write it from odessa’s pov) would be so so good and i don’t think anyone could write it as good as you 🥹 if you’re not open to it considering u already have a fic like it i completely understand, just pitching in an idea :)

liar- drew starkey

drew starkey x artist!reader

one shot

warnings: angst, emotional cheating, cheating, mention of sexual themes, slut shaming, everything is for the plot, drew ain't that good and o is gonna be mentioned not in the nicest way. several pov's.

summary: the request.

spotify playlist

a/n: thank you for your kind words, you have no idea what this means to me really. to know people enjoy what i write and so long, london specially because i put so much work into it. also it's funny that i'm writing with billie's songs as inspo because i have her blocked on spotify (nothing against her just don't like her music.)

a/n: jade thirlwall is the one in the picture.

a/n: won't be turning this into a series. this is a one shot.

third person pov

she had wanted him since the moment she had set her eyes on him, she knew he had a girlfriend, everyone knew he had a girlfriend in fact he was the boyfriend of.

she had a name and he was the boyfriend of her. not the other way around, no she wasn't the girlfriend of, she was the name. and she hated it but she wasn't good, she wasn't nice, she just needed to crawl her way into his life, into their circle.

but how could she compete? if all he ever talked about was her, if his family loved her while they didn't really cared to ask many things about her when they met her, if his friends were also her friends while they laughed with her but didn't tried to be-friend her, if everyone loved her and she couldn't be more different than her.

her hair was free and her smile was sweet, her voice was powerful, her songs full of life while hers were almost quiet. she wanted to be her, she wanted to have him, she wanted for him to look at her eyes and not think of his girlfriend.

and then she met her, he invited her to his girl's concert. the seventh concert of the month in the madison square garden.

"baby." she laughed while she runed to drew's arm's who picked her up like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"amazing as always." she took his face in his hand uniting their lips, ignoring the girl that stood behind her boyfriend until her feet touched the floor again and she looked her way.

"oh hey! you must be dessa." she smiled and separated herself from drew to hug her. "shit sorry i'm all sweaty."

"don't worry." she smiled back. "you were really good. first time seeing you."

"you're the sweetest." she was so oblivious to the intentions the friend of her boyfriend had. "we're going to eat afterwards with the team wanna come?"

she noded agreeing.

"wait around here while she changes, we'll come get you." drew took his girl's hand while they walked to the changing room.

how could've she imagined her loving boyfriend would turn on her? how could've she imagined the girl that seemed sweet would become her most hated person in the world?

a month later her life flipped on a 180°.

y/n pov's

it had never happen, he never rejected me.

"c'mon they're waiting." he stopped my hands from wondering further down.

"that's never stopped us before, we'll tell them we couldn't get my clothes off." i continued to kiss down his neck, guiding his hands to my chest and trapping him against me with my legs as i sit on the table behind me.

"i'm serious, dessa is right outside." my eyebrows snap together and i drop his hands.

"go then." i push him away and i get down from the table while i try to get the zipper of my dress down.

"here let me help you." he reaches to help but i move.

"no, go. didn't you say she's outside?" he sighs.

"don't be like this." i stare at him through the mirror. "alright i'll be outside."

i look at them once i step outside, laughing like they're the only one's in the place.

"hey! it was amazing." she says one she spots me and he turns around, his gaze colder than i ever saw before. maybe i made him feel bad. i try not to look sad, i try not to look hurt.

so as we lay in bed i try to apologise.

"i'm tired, let's go to sleep." he turns off the lights and i look at him sleep all night.

i don't want to but i reach for my journal and i start writing. i feel like i shouldn't, we're fine right? but i can't stop myself and i write the whole song in a matter of minutes.

third person pov

the tour was moving around europe and outer bank's filming started, the world kept spinning and they hadn't seen eachother in two months.

maybe that was the reason the text's were shorter, maybe it just meant filming was busier than usual and she was overseas, the hour difference was bigger sometimes, maybe it was just that.

but if it was just that why did she found herself writting another sad song in her journal, but if it was just that why did she received a text from one of their friend's warning her.

text

maddie c 'hey babe.'

maddie c 'i know you're probably on stage right now but i thought i should let you know. odessa is on set, she landed last night.'

maddie c 'she slept in drew's room.'

maddie c 'call me when you can.'

her world crumbled down when her assitant handed the phone to her.

odessa's pov

i know he's telling her there's nothing to worry about but even if he didn't touch me, it's a lie right? she should be worrying because i'm in his bed. i'm getting where i wanted to be.

but his friend's don't speak to me, they all send me dirty looks, i'm where i wanted to be. taking up her space, so why i don't fit if i'm filling the empty space in his bed anyway?.

i'm where i wanted to be but he still closes his eyes for a second before looking back at me and tells me to leave.

"you should leave." he says.

"you kiddin' right?" i laugh at him but he doesn't laugh back. "c'mon she's just a jealous bitch who doesn't know when she's out of place."

"don't you dare talking about her like that." he almost shouts at me. "you're the one out of place here."

"drew c'mon we just shared a bed." but i know it's a lie.

"you know it's not all that happened. that kiss, that kiss was a mistake." he runs his hands through his hair. "it meant nothing."

fucker.

but i leave, i give him what he asks. i know how to crawl my way back, i just need to let time pass before going back in.

third person's pov

he asked for time off and the producer's gave it to him. she hadn't answer to one single call in the past three days, he saw the video's of her latest presentation.

her voice breaking down to 'love me or leave me.' it had been written about a former love but the tears were because of him.

and now he sat infront of her in her hotel room. he didn't tell her about the kiss.

"i should've gone to sleep to one of the guy's room, her room just wasn't prepared." the look in her eyes was just empty.

"you slept with another girl in the same bed." he nodded yes.

"i ask you to please forgive me." he took her hand in his and she flinched. "i 'm so sorry baby, i love you."

did he? did she believe him?

"alright." he didn't press any further, he didn't want to push his luck. she wouldn't find out at the kiss and a white lie didn't hurt anyone.

only that cheating on your girlfriend of three years wasn't a white lie.

"i don't want her in your life." he nodded yes.

"whatever makes you happy baby."

but that sickening feeling inside of her never left. just seven months later she was back in his life.

still no one liked her.

seven months later she woke up in their house feeling sick, he was at disney for that girl's birthday.

why couldn't he let go of her while his girlfriend's love and patience became brushed aside.

she no longer felt the greatest in his life, she was turning blue. their house was grey and she felt herself burning alive.

yn's pov

i should've known when i woke up looking sick yesterday, when i puked all afternoon, i should've known.

my biggest fear, the uncomfotable feeling that had set in my chest after reading madelyn's text's months ago, i should've known.

i should've known when i saw his 10 missing calls this morning and the video from my sister.

they were holding hands while her sister filmed them and she kissed him. and he didn't push her away, he smiled at her when stepped back.

text

yn 'i don't even wanna know, i saw the video and I can imagine the rest. we're fucking done, don't come home.'

you've blocked this contact

third person pov

the locks had been changed when he came back only a day later. he had fucked up.

she had sent all his things to his mother's house in a matter of hours who had called him, furious screaming at him to not even dare to bring his so called 'friend' home.

drew's pov

"baby please i know you're inside."

i knew she was, i could hear her breathing on the other side of the door.

"sweetheart."

"go away." her hand slams against the door and her voice is a shell of what i'm used to hear. "you got nothing else here, it's all at your mom's."

"i know. i just need to talk to you." i clean the tear that falls from my eyes.

"there's nothing to talk about, you cheated and we're done. i can't look at you." the thing she says next even if i know i deserve it, pierces right through my heart. "i hate you. i wish i had never even met you."

i hear her steps fade away. the consequence of my mistake, of the way i ruined my life makes itself known in the silence and darkness as she turns the porch lights off.

odessa's pov

all i see in the back of my mind is the way he looked at her and the hate in his eyes when he told me he never wanted to see me again.

i was a second away from being her. i wonder if she felt like i feel right now when she cried on valentine's day, when i stole her happiness thinking he would chose me.

a second away from getting him to look at me the way he looked at her. now i'm blocked everywhere and even my friends tell me I'm a slut.

drew's pov

six months after the worst mistake of my life i still have the notifications of her post on. now i look at her latest instagram post with an ep announcement.

liked by madelyncline, brookestarkey and 1.230.665 more

starsign my ep 'liar' is out. liner note- to pour your heart out is one of the scariest things you can do, it was the scariest thing i did and i would've married you if you had stuck around but we were doomed.

comments are desactivated.

third person pov

he was a liar ruining the greatest thing of his life.

masterlist

taglist: @chenslucy @gillybear17 @imliterallyamirrorball @nichmeddar @gillybooboo @julczimozart @bellbottombabe @silkylovey @droppedyourhnd @jaydaaasworld @congratsloserr @carrerascameron @m1santhropicc @wearemadeofstardust0 @chiaraanatra @rlalliehayes @ijustwanttoreadlols @sunny1616 @theoraekenslover @isaidoop @ethanthequeefqueen @rafesdrew @loverdrew @frankoceanluvr11

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tearsofastraeax · 6 months ago

Text

a/n: i fear i might have made it worse, i promise it will get better... actually, nvm i can't promise anything, so sorry in advance :)

cw: angst, very angsty angst

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

what you saw in his eyes felt like he ripped open your chest, violently split apart your ribs, took his gigantic hand and ripped your heart out.

but the breathtaking smile on his lips was what sealed your fate. what threw your heart on the ground and trampled on it.

how dare him? how fucking dare him that he smiled at you while he was breaking your fucking heart to pieces.

you were frozen in place, like the world around you started to move twice its normal speed, and you slowed down. slowed down so much so that the mist of your warm breath against the window spread out in slow motion. your clammy hands fiddled with the hem of your winter coat. your throat felt dry. your eyes burning.

and suddenly the world seemed to spin again. simon directed his gentle smile at the blonde in his arms. the same one that leaned in now, angled her head up and smirked at him.

your feet started carrying you on their own accord. the ice that crept through your veins carried a gentle calm with it.

several pairs of eyes turned toward you as you stepped into the warmth of the bar. but you couldn't even focus on them, your gaze locked on simon.

"y/n", was all he could mutter, when he turned to you.

he stepped closer to you, letting go of the blonde - much to her discontent - and reached out an arm.

coolly, you noticed how it was the same one that he had just wrapped around the other woman.

"don't touch me, simon."

your voice came out weak, barely a whisper. but it seemed to hit him like a punch in the face. his eyes scanned your face for what felt the first time.

in your peripheral view you could barely make out the blonde stepping up behind simon, like his dandy little thing that needed protection. you saw soap and gaz regarding you with wary eyes, their eyebrows nearly touching their hairline in confusion. the only one reasonable as always was price, one hand on simon’s shoulder, his calm eyes taking in the situation unfolding in front of him.

the acid in your stomach rose up, your face pulling into a bitter laugh, but barely a sound escaped as you watched on as simon’s hand blocked the woman from you. was he trying to protect her?

what the actual hell was happening? what kind of sick twisted nightmare had you stepped into?

“you shouldn’t have come here.”

the words rang in your ear. you could barely register simon’s lips moving, his voice echoing on and on. your lips trembled. the colour draining off your face. your heart sank into your stomach.

you shouldn’t have come here? you?

you felt like your world was being torn to shreds right in front of you, for everyone to see. humiliation, anger and a never-ending pit of hopelessness spread throughout you. letting numbness settle deep within.

your eyes met his again. the intensity that had pulled you in before, now made you feel sick to your stomach.

how could he?

you tried to grasp for something to say, something to do. but there was nothing. so, you did the only sensible thing in a situation where you clearly weren't wanted. you turned around and you left.

"wait, you don't understand", a desperate plea reached your ears, his voice gruff.

what could you have possibly misunderstood? the way he had smiled at the woman? the way he had so publicly rejected you? the way he hadn't even for a smidge of a second considered how you must have felt.

"let her go, simon", price rough tone cut into the heavy atmosphere in the room.

it was all you could focus on, on your way out. price's words wrapping around you like a safety blanket and carrying you out of the nightmare, and into the freezing cold.

#don't worry he won't be let go unscathed #couldn't just leave it at the already major angst so sorry i guess #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley angst #✧･ﾟ⊹ astra writes 📖

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heavensoutofsight · 4 months ago

Text

stay with me | b.e.

SYNOPSIS: when your emotions get the best of you, billie is always there.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

TAGS/WARNINGS: a little bit of angst, but mostly fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, reader is implied to be socially anxious (just like me fr)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hello i am so sorry if maybe this short lil fic is boring but honestly this is really self-indulgent and what i fantasize about often as a stressed as fuck college student to be real and i just wanted to get it out of my mind 😞😞 idk if this will be comforting to any of you as well but if so i'd be glad :))) enjoyyy.

(divider cred: @/strangergraphics-archive)

[ TAGLIST: @hannahluvsbillie, @bilssturns, @bla1rxoxo, @billiesrighthand, @weluvwbb, @belleishot, @natbelovasblog, @wilfdflwr8, @likefirenrain, @amara-eilish, @sevikasleftbicep ]

The second you stepped through your door, your feet began moving on their own, walking you toward a specific room in yours and Billie's home that was quickly becoming a place you spent more time in than your own shared bedroom.

Billie still went over to Finneas's place to work sometimes, but whenever she wanted to do some stuff on her own, she'd play around in her own studio at home. It wasn't perfect by any means, and she was still in the process of decorating the space and buying more equipment, but she had the essentials, and even though her little studio was still a new place she was already well acquainted with the space.

You were well acquainted with the area as well, because there was one thing you loved to do more than anything, and that was sit down on the little sofa in there and watch and listen your girlfriend work; which was exactly what you were desperately wanting to do as soon as you came back home from work.

Before you entered the studio, you could hear Billie recording some vocals, and for a few minutes you stood outside the door, listening carefully sporting a small smile. The stress of everything that happened at work and during the rest of the day was already leaving your body.

You gave a couple of small knocks before slowly entering the room, and upon hearing the door creak open, Billie swiveled around in her seat, her microphone still in her hand. The image of her, with her long hair framing her face and looking all cozy in an oversized shirt and simple sweats made your heart warm. To you, she was home personified.

A smile that stretched from ear to ear immediately appeared on her face as she greeted you. She stood up, meeting you eye-to-eye, wrapping her arms around your waist and giving you a quick kiss. She squeezed your waist ever so gently, pulling away and looking at you with pure affection in her eyes.

"How was your day?" She asked softly. You didn't immediately respond with a verbal answer; you simply sighed, leaning forward to rest your head on her shoulder, pulling Billie in closer. You inhaled the clean scent of her hoodie, which smelled like her perfume, a scent that very quickly became comforting for you.

"Exhausting." Was all you said as a response after a couple of minutes of silence, and Billie was quick to understand how you were feeling in the moment. You usually came home tired, but there were small things that you would do when you had a day that was a bit more intense than usual, and she could always pick up on those things. Everything about your body language in this particular moment told her everything she needed to know.

"Today must have been a lot, huh?" Billie asked you, although she already knew the answer. She moved her hands to around your shoulders, hugging you properly, while yours were now around her waist. Billie never minded embracing you for as long as you needed, and she even rubbed your back a little, the action further helping you relax.

"Yeah," you started, your voice quiet. "I just got so overwhelmed today and I couldn't get out of my own head and was feeling anxious the whole time and I just… wanted to be home and away from everybody." You spoke earnestly.

"I know, baby. I know. I'm so sorry today was rough." Billie said, sincerity in her tone. She pulled out of the hug, only so she could hold your face in her hands. She could see the tiredness in your eyes.

"Is there anything you need right now?" Billie asked. Whenever she could tell you were drained, she was always ready to provide you with anything you needed, be it food or a cuddle session on the couch; the simple gesture made you fall in love with her all over again. In this moment, though, there was only one thing on your mind.

"No, I don't need anything. Just you." You replied with a small, tired grin. Billie just nodded, returning the warm expression, leaning in to kiss you a couple more times.

"Okay, angel." She replied sweetly.

With that, you sat down on her little couch, as she sat back down in her swivel chair. She resumed working, and you immediately became transfixed, admiring the soothing sound of her voice and the beautiful snippets of music that she'd play from her speakers every now and then. There was nothing more calming to you than watching your girlfriend in her element, focused and working hard at her little desk.

Every now and then, she'd turn to glance at you, giving you a smile or blowing you a kiss, and every time a series of chuckles would escape you. If she ever had to get up to use the bathroom or grab a snack, she'd always give you a peck on the lips before leaving and she'd always ask you if you wanted her to grab anything while she was out. Her thoughtfulness only reminded you of why you chose to spend the rest of your life with her—you truly wouldn't have it any other way, especially on days like these.

In the comfort of her studio, you were away from the bustling, loud atmosphere that was your workplace. You didn't have to fake any more smiles or put on any carefully constructed masks. In Billie's presence, you could finally just be.

At some point, after many hours, Billie had found a stopping point, feeling satisfied with the progress that she had made. When she turned around in her seat to look at you, she noticed that you were lying down on the couch now, resting your head on a throw pillow, blinking slowly as you were adorably trying to fight sleep.

Billie immediately found herself walking over to you, kneeling down to be close to your face. She moved some hair out of your eyes, gazing at you fondly. You looked back at her, your eyes just barely cracked open.

"Hey, babygirl," Billie said, her voice just barely above a whisper. "Wanna go to the bed?"

After letting out a yawn, you nodded. "Mhmm." You replied sleepily, and Billie chuckled, kissing your cheek.

"Come on then, sleepyhead. I could use a nap myself."

You found yourself a bit reluctant to get off the couch, but you did eventually, grabbing onto Billie's hand and walking with her to your shared bedroom. The natural sunlight filling the room was enough, so she kept the lights off, and the two of you immediately crawled into bed atop the covers. You were still in your day clothes but you were far too worn out to give a damn. Billie definitely didn't care at all, happily pulling you in close.

Billie was behind you, taking the role of a big spoon, her arms wrapping around you comfortably.

The world knew Billie as a superstar; but in your modest little home, Billie to you was your everything, your safe haven, your future wife who'd you spend your last days on earth with.

"I love you so much." You suddenly heard Billie whisper. You smiled at the sound of her voice.

"I love you, too." You responded, melting into her.

(author's note pt. 2: need her to speak softly and gently to me irl so bad i'm crashing out 💔💔💔)

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader #also just now realizing i have forgotten some ppl on the taglist i am so sorry!!! 🙏🏾 fully my mistake bc i am Stupid

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wordsarelife · 2 years ago

Note

heyyy, I just saw your appeal for theodore nott requests, but I also saw in one of your posts that you have a lot to do lately and I don't want to annoy you or something, take your time ♡

My idea for something with theo would be detention with Umbridge (I know it's cliche, but let's ignore this fact) and the reader (fem!reader would be great, but you can choose) has to write something that really insults her and hurts her pride like "I must not open my filthy mouth" or "Nobody wants to be bothered by me" (wow that sounds a bit depressing but let's ignore this too). And maybe theo is in Umbridge's little investigation team but changes when he sees the cuts on reader's hand (does this even make sense?). And maybe a little bit of angst which ends in fluff?

But please don't stress yourself ♡

—you are in love

pairing: theo nott x reader

summary: after a lovely visit with umbridge, theo must prove that the words carved into your skin are the opposite of the truth

warnings: mentions of blood and a wound, a little graphic

note: i initially didn't want this to get all like 'who did this to you?' but i just threw my principles out of the window in the middle of writing lol!! i hope this is something in the direction of what you wished for!! also: i'm living for enzo, just thirdwheeling and living his best life lmao

you knew you didn't like the woman the moment she had entered the halls of the castle. but now your hate was as evident as ever. she was sitting across from your, sipping on her tea, while reading the papers and you had a single task to fulfill.

you had much rather used the quill to cut out her eyes-

"go on, dear" she smiled and you had the sudden need to throw up "start writing"

"i don't think-"

"that wasn't a question!" you looked down at the paper, reading the sentence you were supposed to write ten times. it didn't even make sense to you what kind of punishment this should be. but what you read hurt you and maybe that was just the punishment she was so proud of.

you raised the quill, tapping it into the ink. the quill flew out of your hand after the first word. pain flodded through your body. "what?" you whispered to yourself, as you noticed the first word of the sentence carving into your skin slowly. the blood escaped the wound and dripped down your finger.

"continue" umbridge said and you did as you were told.

whatever she had done to you in that room, was the worst kind of torture, especially because you were doing it to yourself, with no escape. you read the sentence on your hand over and over again, scrunching your eyes closed in the hope that it would disappear, but it didn't.

atleast it was in the palm, which didn't make it any less hurtful, but atleast you could hide it better that way.

"there you are!" theo said the moment you entered the common room

"hi y/n!" enzo waved from one of the couches

"hey" you said tiredly, making a beeline to your dorm.

"woah" theo stepped into your way "no chess?"

"not tonight, theo" you tried to escape his eyes

"is something wrong?" theo asked concerned "did something happen?"

"i'm just tired okay? i want to sleep" you clenched your hand together, trying to upkeep the lie. but you had unintentionally clenched your wounded hand. you winced in pain and a drop of blood hit the floor.

it was like slowmotion as theo, enzo and you all looked down.

"what the fuck" enzo stood up "is that blood?"

theo reached for your hand, but you pulled it back, causing more blood to drip.

"fuck, y/n" theo said "show me your hand"

"yeah" enzo agreed "whatever that is can't be normal" he leaned in to whisper at theo, but did it loud enough for your to hear as well "girls don't normally do that right?"

theo turned his head at enzo, sending him a look with raised eyebrows and then slowly shook his head. enzo nodded, turning back to you "show him, y/n"

you sighed, understanding that you couldn't escape them even if you tried. theo gently took your offered hand, rolling the cloak up and opening your hand. he was met with nothing short of a sea of blood, which flodded your whole hand, making it impossible to see any skin underneath.

theo was staring at your hand. "get me a towel or something, quick" he instructed enzo, who just gulped and nodded, looking like he was going to throw up, but he hurried off right away.

theo guided you to sit down.

"what happened?" he asked, but you didn't answer "i asked you something"

"i fell over" you said. you knew that if you said it was umbridge, theo might never believe you. there was no use in fighting a teacher. especially not when theo was working for her and definitely not if this was your punishment after simply talking during class.

"the fuck you did" theo shook his head. before you could argue, enzo reentered the room, with a towel and a whole roll of toilet paper in hand.

theo wrapped the towel around your hand. it quickly soaked up the blood. he opened it back up, to softly pat some toilet paper on your wound. you winced in pain.

you watched theo closely and you knew what question he would repeat any moment now. he opened his mouth, but before anything could come out, he halted.

"are those words?" he asked calmly. too calm.

you tried to drag your hand away, embarrassed what exact words had been carved into your skin, but theo was quicker.

"hold her arm" he instructed enzo. enzo took your arm with one hand, while he clasped the other over both mouth and nose.

"what are you doing?" theo asked irritated.

"it smells so bad" enzo said disgusted, tears in his eyes, while looking anywhere but your hand "and i don't want to throw up on her, then she'd be full of blood and puke"

"very wise decision making" you nodded "can't you just put a plaster on that and call it a day?" you asked theo. he shook his head, taking a new piece of the toilet paper and soaking up the rest of the blood. the wound was mostly dried now. the blood had been moved all around your hand and arm, but it was all dry aswell.

theo took off the toilet paper and his eyes flew over the words on your palm.

enzo, incapable of reading it quietly announced the words loudly "i will never be loved" he turned his head to look at you, eyes big. you kept your eyes on theo, waiting for his reaction.

theo just kept staring at your hand and you were more anxious than ever before. "theo?" enzo asked "what are we gonna do about it?"

"what are you gonna do?" you repeated "nothing! obviously. none of you will do anything, you hear me?"

"fuck that" theo said, making both enzo and you look at him.

"what?" you asked.

"tell me the name"

"no" theo was still keeping a close eye on your hand, before he looked up at your answer suddenly.

"tell me the name, y/n" he repeated "enzo and i will deal with it."

"yeah" enzo agreed "we're on the inquisitorial squad. we can at least take points from them"

theo noticed how you looked at your hand at that. a very obvious tell you should've hidden better. but theo was usually too smart for you to trick anyway.

"oh" he said, understanding what had happened "umbridge did it, didn't she?"

"umbridge?" enzo repeated confused "what did she do?"

"sometimes, you're so slow" theo rolled his eyes at enzo "umbridge hurt out girl" he turned back to you "she did that to you"

your lack of an answer was enough for him. "take her to madam pomfrey, enzo" theo stood up.

"where are you going?" you asked.

"i have to take care of something"

you watched him leave the common room. enzo just shrugged. "come on"

madam pomfrey had quickly wrapped your wound in some bandages, but not before putting on a special treatment, that would help to heal it faster.

you were staring at the ceiling, bored to death, when there was a sudden sound. "theo" you said surprised. "where is your badge?" you asked, noticing it missing on his robe.

"i gave it back" he sat down on your bed.

"you did what?" you tried to sit up, but accidently put your weight on your hurt hand, wincing in pain.

theos eyes softened "i don't want to join some club that is fine with hurting the people i love"

"you didn't have to do that" your argued.

"yes i had" he insisted "simply because what she made you write isn't true. but i know that you questioned if it was. i won't let you think that"

"theo" you said softly.

"i spoke with potter and told him what happened. he has something going on as well. i know i can't do much, but he said he had a plan"

"you did all of that because of me?"

"are you kidding?" theo asked "of course i did. because i love you"

a tear slipped over your cheek. "thank you" you whispered "i love you too" theo softly kissed your forehead.

"i hope you get out of here soon"

"it will just be tonight"

"good" theo smiled "did enzo, the coward, really leave you here on your own?"

you shook your head, smiling, before you leaned over theo, dragging the curtain behind him to the side. there in the bed was laying enzo.

"he passed out, just after she took out the first syringe" you laughed "she gave him some sedatives and he's been out ever since"

theo shook his head, laughing, before he drew the curtain close again "at least then he can't see me do this" and with that, he kissed you.

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #harrypotterimagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter #you are in love #taylor swift

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sportswriters · 3 months ago

Text

misunderstandings can be dangerous - j. woll

pairing: joseph woll x female!reader | established relationship | angst if you squint, fluff | wc: 1.2k | a/n: i'm so endeared by this man - namu

the vibes were weird. you were sitting alone in your living room, the tv on in the background. the presenters were talking about the great performance of the toronto maple leafs in today's game, but none of it was really sticking in your head. a few messages from your friend were popping up in your notifications, but you couldn't stop staring at the open photo on your phone screen.

you're not the type of person to worry about speculation or the opinions of strangers, especially when it comes to your relationship with a public person. however, your friend was responsible for forwarding a photo apparently taken after today's game, where the focus was on joseph and a woman laughing with matthew and his girlfriend. the unknown woman was comfortable enough to rest her head on joseph's shoulder. you knew the other couple, but you had never seen this woman before in your life, and you couldn't understand how joseph was so relaxed about such physical contact.

“she must have been invited by matthew's girlfriend, the comments are boiling over against this girl,” said her friend, now on the call. “i had to go on the blogs and see for myself, i'm sorry.”

“it's okay, i get it. it's not often that this happens.”

in fact, you were only the subject of gossip when you first started showing up together, but as soon as the relationship circulated without much to talk about, there were only a few compliments during public appearances and in the comments of photos. besides, joseph had never been the target of scandals, so tranquility could be preserved in everyday life.

“i've seen some people commenting that she's been seen at other games with other friends, that she's probably looking for that wag life,” your friend snorted. “but what this clueless girl doesn't know is that even the gossip blogs love your relationship, so a lot of people are doubting that joey is involved in anything.”

you murmured in agreement, the withering tone not going unnoticed.

“how are you feeling? i know that worry crossed your mind at the beginning of everything.”

“yeah... well, it's just a photo at the right timing. i'll wait for him to get home and have a difficult conversation.”

“that's fine, call me if you need anything. anything.”

you laughed, then replied: “i'll be okay! love you, thank you.”

as soon as she hung up, you went back to staring at the photo, but a message from joseph appeared at the top of the screen.

lovey: you won't believe what happened today

a few minutes later, you heard the security code being typed in, then joseph walked through the door. he only had a simple backpack, probably left his bigger bag in the car. he was restless, rushed, as he always is when he has urgent news - which is usually cute, but today especially there wasn't much space in your head to focus on how adorable he was.

“hi, love,” he greeted, kneeling down to give you a kiss on the forehead. “feeling okay? you look tired.”

“long day, that's all. tell me what you wanted.”

“are you sure? i can cook for us and tell you later.”

“don't kill me with curiosity, joey.”

your voice managed to convey your tiredness, convincing your boyfriend that there was nothing more to it than that.

“you know kniesy's girlfriend? she recently started using her extra invitation to bring a so-called friend to our arena. this so-called friend is always trying to talk too close to me, even though i've already mentioned that you're my girlfriend!”

joseph stood up and started pacing back and forth.

“but today she crossed the line, she was blabbing, laughing and touching my arm while I was waiting for a guy from the staff to give him a lift home. that's actually why it took me so long to get here,” he reasoned, raising his index finger. “who does she think she is? what a horrible woman, love! i hate to be indiscreet, but i had to scold her in front of everyone. i told kniesy's girlfriend to get a grip or i'd talk to the admin who handles these invitations. i'm not the guy she wants to mess with in order to try and get in.”

you had a surprised expression that gradually became comical as he vented. although he had defended many attempts on goal a few hours ago, joseph still seemed to have the breath to speak without breaks.

“i can't believe i went through that,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands. “i wish you were there. actually, no. gee, just thinking about her embarrassing you gives me a bad feeling, my blood pressure goes up.”

“love.”

“i'm going to make shirts with your face on and wear them all the time to make sure this never happens again.”

“joey, come here.”

he finally stopped and walked back to the sofa, snuggling up to you. his slightly irregular breathing indicated his genuine annoyance. a minute passed in silence, with you just stroking his hair. then you finally unlocked your phone and showed him the photo you'd received earlier. joseph's eyes widened, his irritation returning in full force.

“look at that! the timing so terribly perfect it makes it look like i'm laughing with-”

he stopped, stared at the photo, then looked at you with wide eyes. absolutely worried.

“where did you find this? what did they tell you?” he asked, the difference in tone almost making you laugh. joseph looked on the verge of tears.

“i think she was quick to send it to the gossip blogs, but it wasn't very successful. my insider told me that almost no one believed that you were feeding it to her.”

joseph took a few seconds to scan your face for any attempt to hide something, he was genuinely afraid that you had been hurt by it. the seconds inside his own head became obvious externally, so you had to bring him back before he spiraled.

“honey, i believe in you. i need you to calm down.”

“what a mess, love. i'm sorry you have to go through these things,” he said, wrapping your body in a tight hug.

“you can't be immune being a public person, but fortunately we have a very beautiful and healthy relationship,” you replied, leaving a kiss on his temple. “and you went through the worst of it, it must have been very uncomfortable. i'm sorry.”

“how bad were you?” his voice came out muffled in the curve of your neck. you let out a little air through your nose, aware that his focus was different.

��i can't deny it, i was a little shocked, but not out of mistrust,” you admitted. “misunderstandings can be very dangerous sometimes.”

“i hate that, i hate the thought that i might bring doubt to your mind, even if it's just briefly.”

“it's over now, i feel better already.” you continued to run your hand through his hair, feeling his body relax on top of yours.

“i love you.”

“i love you too. as soon as you calm down, we'll cook together while i tell you about this fantastic piece of company gossip.”

joseph raised his head, his wide eyes showing his interest.

“is it about that iced coffee guy?”

“yes, except now he has an opponent on the same level as him.”

he gasped, shifting to sit down. you grumbled as you lost the warmth of his body.

“love, start talking this instant!”

#joseph woll #joseph woll imagines #joseph woll scenarios #nhl imagines #nhl scenarios #nhl drabbles #nhl blurbs #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll fluff #toronto maple leafs imagines #sportswriters ❤

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estherscorner · 5 months ago

Text

♧ Maybe in this life, or the next.

♡ Pairings; Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN!Reader || ROMANCE

◇ Summary; Loving you was easy, but keeping you was the challenge. What happens if your fate remained unchanged during your next life?

♤ Warnings; Angst/No comfort, Reader gets reincarnated, You two genuinely loved eachother but were never meant to be together, OOC scara, vulnerable scara, soft scara, shitty writing lmao, major character death.

Let me know if I miss any!

(NOT EDITED!) [SHORT STORY]

After everything he went through for centuries, Scaramouche made a silent vow to himself that he will never get attached to mortals.

They had a short lifespan, often making the most out of it by celebrating yearly. For those unfortunate, they pass away at a young age. The reason behind it consisted of their death being caused by their own kind or a cruel fate they were destined to meet. And those who were considered lucky and spared would surpass a century of age.

So for an immortal like him, this must be the version of his divine punishment. The cruel fate that he was always destined to meet. The curse of immortality and mortality.

You. You were his curse. The one he came to adore. The one who's fate always ends so abruptly.

The one who was meant to be.

You were the one he was destined to be with, or so he believed. He wasn't a fan of romance at all, and he didn't believe in what humans called “soulmates”. But if he were to have one, it was definitely you. Almost every life you had, he had fallen for you over and over again.

And it was his curse.

He met you when he still went by Kunikuzushi. The naive puppet, exploring the world of Inazuma and learning basic survival all by his own. The one who had been abandoned by their creator, and much more recently, by a friend.

And you were just an Inazuman villager that was nearing your death. One who took pity on him as he approached you with an innocent smile.

The one who helped him learn how to love.

You taught him basic human knowledge, what they need for survival and what not. You never informed him that humans can contract diseases. Hiding the fact that you were nearing your death due to your sickness.

You didn't want to break his heart. As you were aware of how he held deep affection towards you.

When he met a small boy that was just like him and you, you made sure to stick to his side. Monitoring the boy's health in secret while helping him learn how to take care of others- but also trying your best to learn his nature. To let him learn and create an identity for himself.

You helped him create a name and identity. And you had him learn human emotions.

Which was a small mistake on your part.

You wanted to love him back, to reciprocate his feelings and help him with exploring the world. But you were powerless. You who slowly succumbed to your illness. Never waking up as you laid still beside him.

He was deeply hurt. He vividly remembered the tears he spilled for you. Crying and begging for you to stop joking with him. Thinking you were playing a cruel prank on him once more.

He wished that he was in tears because of a harsh prank, instead of weeping right over your corpse.

Your being held a huge significance to him. It it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have easily learned how humans worked.

You left an imprint on his nonexistent heart.

You, along with the boy, was his final betrayal that made him "understand". The way you made him feel, it made him doubt you. Made him feel like your love towards him was just a lie to bait him. To trick him into succumbing to his worthless emotions.

Like how you succumbed to your illness.

The second time he saw you was when he was recently promoted as a harbinger. Going by the codename “The Balladeer”. You were one of his subordinates.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, and he couldn't deny how his heart squeezed the moment he made eye contact with you.

He swore to scrub away every last bit of human emotion within him. But he already broke the promise to himself when he decided to talk to you. The harbinger that was known and feared by everyone for his cruel words was unusually quiet when it came to you. It confused you to no end but you were content with it.

It must've been a coincidence, right? The fact you were exactly similar to someone he used to love. Down to your philosophy- you were exactly like them. Only with a different name and background this time.

It was eerie how it was as if you got reincarnated. He couldn’t shake off the thought and idea of it. Was this the celestial gods above finally apologising for mistreating him? For making mad at the humans and gods?

Or was this another trap. That you were trying to lure him back into being exactly who he once was?

Weak, vulnerable, stupid. He was always like that with you.

You were much stronger this time. Much more strong willed. If he could turn you into an immortal, that would be perfect. Maybe this time you wouldn’t be unfortunate enough to succumb to a cruel fate.

He let his guard down just for you. Looking at you so lovingly despite how his harsh words seemed to contrast his gaze. How he'd check up on you after every mission. You were strong. He is strong. This felt like the correct time. Like the stars above were aligning just for him.

Maybe just this once, You would have all the time in the world with him.

And deep within him, he wished he should've just gone with his idea of turning you into one of the doctor's experiment. Making you immortal.

There your lifeless form laid on the grass. The green patch below you turned into crimson red as your eyes were back to being dull. A feeling he hadn't felt in years crept right back. A feeling he long forgot about.

Dread.

It was merely a mission that went wrong. You were his right-hand commander. The one he always trusted. He knew your beliefs, he learned the world whilst continuing to believe in your philosophy. No matter how stupid it sounded to him.

But maybe it was his mistake for trusting you to begin with.

He couldn't even mourn. This was his punishment for breaking the promise he swore to himself all those years prior. The promise he broke as soon as he decided to fall in love with you again.

This was a dark reminder that you were one of his betrayal, and nothing would ever change that.

Does he even have the right to cry? He should have expected the worst. Yet he fell for your trap and found himself vulnerable again. A state that was supposed to be erased from his very being.

He hated you. Hated how you toyed with his feelings.

The third and final time he saw you was after he erased his very existence. Becoming a failed attempt of a God and gaining an anemo vision after getting his memories back with the help of Nahida.

And those memories included you.

He came to terms with himself. Removing his past identity.

Removing the identity you helped him create.

He went by the name Wanderer. And even after all these years, he couldn't help but feel bitter towards you.

He hated how you were so significant to his being. How you could easily melt away his ice cold wall he so delicately placed around his heart to keep everyone out.

And how you always seemed to find your way to him again. Coming right back into his life.

You weren't a villager who was ill, you weren't someone who's job always risked themselves and was in constant danger.

You were a traveler with a vision. Exploring cities and landscapes you’ve heard stories of. Loving the new views and meeting new people.

But as if to mock him, you were still exact one he had fallen for.

You were the same old you, The one he fell in love with all those centuries ago. The one he stupidly got vulnerable with.

And this time, You were the first to approach him.

You were more open in this life, always chattering and bothering him despite the fact he'd try to push you away or shut you off. His cruel words didn't even faze you. This time, it was you clinging onto him.

Following him around, Buying him food, talking to him about your commissions. You were the one who constantly pestered him.

And he was still the same idiot that believed in you. Even after claiming he hated you.

How could he even get himself to hate you?

Old habits always die hard.

But he promised. Thuis time, he will learn how to love you in time. This time, he wouldn't wait until you die in his arms. He'll protect you from your fate.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Wanderer?”

You asked, laying down on the patch of grass right next to him. He leaned onto the wooden bark behind him. Closing his eyes as he hummed. How ironic.

The wind blew stronger.

“Only idiots believe in those.”

He bluntly said. Eyes opening to gaze down at you, arms under the back of your head as you stared up at the clouds right up at the blue sky. Admiring the view despite there wasn't much going on.

He never truly understood how mortals seemed to cherish even the smallest things.

“Does that make me an idiot, then?”

You asked. Chuckling as he raised a brow at you. You closed your eyes taking in a deep breath. Moments like these are what you cherish the most. Relaxing and having fun with the ones you love.

“You were always an idiot.”

He scoffed at you. Feigning annoyance and hurt. Sitting up to his level and slapping his shoulder, sulking. You puffed your cheeks up. Not saying another word as you pout at his bluntness.

He knew it all too well. You were always trying your best to make him smile.

And you never failed to do so.

“What? Am I wrong?”

He said sarcastically, smiling at you as you just rolled your eyes at him. Scoffing at his words. He watched as you laid on your back again. Arms on your stomach this time, yawning.

“Life is really scary. But I feel like being alone is scarier.”

you said, trailing off as you glanced back at him. Eyes locking with his sharp ones. You gave him a smile. A simple and soft smile.

It was contagious. He always loved seeing that etched on your lips.

“That's why I'm glad I have you.”

You followed up. He gagged and rolled his eyes at your cheesiness. You didn’t even know why you're saying all these words.

But maybe it's because you just wanted to tell him how he truly meant to you.

“You're so cheesy, It's disgusting."

He said. Tone blunt as he placed his large hat on your face to block your view. You didn't fail to notice how his cheeks seemed to turn a hue of red despite the fact you both were under the shade.

You couldn't help but smile at his reaction.

“I'm not being cheesy! I just wanted to tell you that you mean a lot to me! We rarely have heart to hearts.”

You said. Removing his hat that he placed on your face and placing it on your stomach. Arms around the large accessory as you looked up at him again.

His elbow was on his knee, hand on his chin as he stared down at you with softened expression.

“I love you, I truly do.”

Despite the fact you loved him for centuries on end in your past lives, he never got to hear you say those words in person.

Most of the time, he could see it through your expression and your shared silence.

Maybe the problem was with your fate. Alwats ending so abruptly back then. But, he was happy that he got to hear those words. Even if it were just mere sentences. Even if it took him a lifetime.

“..Yeah.”

He couldn't bring himself to say it back. He never could. He wasn't Kunikuzushi anymore. But with your hum, it was like a confirmation that you knew he loved you back.

He wished he could tell you how much he truly loved you. But for now, he wanted to keep the comfortable silence.

There was a small glimmer of hope that there was finally some progress with your fate, even if it took him centuries, he will wait until you and him finally got the happy ending he wanted.

The happy ending you both deserved.

But he wonders if he could act fast and beat destiny, before it could take you away again.

He held your hand. Fingers intertwined as droplets of tears spilled onto the cold skin below him.

Your eyes were sickeningly dull. And he was all to familiar with how it looks.

Your vision in his other hand, slowly turning a shade of grey before completely becoming a dull colorless one. Similar to those visions without an owner.

As he held your hand. He truly wondered how many times he will have to be tormented like this.

And if he was truly guaranteed to meet you in your next life.

(A/N); "I lowkey don't like this one since I feel like I can do better! But it's fine, I'm very new to writing anyways. I also can't feel the angst ughh :("

♤ Property of Esther ♤

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #angst

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dont-look-its-embarrassing · 4 months ago

Text

Inner Ace pt.2

The Hunting Incident

I'm glad you guys like this idea! Personally, I couldn't really jive well with the image of Feyre just balls to the wall learning how to hunt suddenly and being perfect at it to survive. This storyline was my original bridge for that in my mind, so I am glad that it went well with you all :)

Update right before I post; I'm going to be honest I got EXTREMELY carried away with this one, so I apologize for the length...

Summary: As the time went by and tensions rose between the human lands and fae, the IC have been working tirelessly to try and maintain a balance and a new ally. As The High Lord and Lady cannot be outside their court for long (as other matters must be attended to in preparation for the war), Azriel is designated liaison for reporting back on the movements and whereabouts of the human queens. Having become friends through Feyre, Azriel finds himself spending more time with the human girl, coming to his own conclusion of close friendship and more? Late nights between the two have confusing tensions rise, that is until the Inner court makes a group stop to check in with Y/n before talking with the queens. An accident has not only the IC realizing this bond might go deeper then friends, but a realization within the Spymaster himself as he finds himself gazing at the beautiful woman more often than not.

Warnings: injury, cannon typical violence, fluff, sexual tension, (a little) angst, potential non-cannon faebane workings (ngl some of it is lost on me), non-cannon time (meaning it is a bit longer of a timeline bc wym this all happened in less than a couple years?!), injury, alcohol consumption

Pt 1 Masterlist

WC (I forgot this in the first part, oops): 11,301

The time that Feyre and the males came and went from her home left Y/n's head spinning. Although for a couple days, the relief and warmth within her home was notably missing upon their departure back to their court. Although Y/n understood that Feyre had in fact become an influential power figure within their world, the hole that she leaves when her presence is gone always has Y/n reeling. She wouldn't describe herself as some who is dependent on another person or her friends, but it sure does make the cold nights a bit warmer with the promise of seeing them tomorrow. Y/n had grown extremely close to the bunch within her home. As her status of 'best friend' with Feyre was any sort of key, the rest of the males quickly followed suit with dinners and time spent with each other talking and getting to know about the other party. Although Cassian had to be cut off with some of the stupid invasive questions he asked the girl, it only fueled the bond that they all began to share. It made the goodbye (although not for forever) harder for them all.

"You need to come back and see me." Y/n had eyed the Feyre down, not allowing her to break. "This isn't a request or some sort of bargain that I don't understand. You are going to make time for a sit-down gossip session like we used to have."

Laughing as if this plan would happen within a week, at most, Feyre had embraced Y/n in an all-encompassing hug.

"Of course."

Giving a nod and pulling away, Y/n's eyes had met that of the High Lord, Rhys. Upon a small chat with Feyre, Y/n had been informed that this man, or male, was Feyre's forever bond or something. He had offered a warm smile, one that Y/n sent back easily.

Again, something that the human girl didn't fully understand, but respected none the less.

"Thank you for letting us stay. I know that it was a risk, we won't forget that and are in your debt." The small eye roll that Y/n couldn't hold made him chuckle.

"Relax there, lover boy." A nickname that again, upon hearing about her best friend's lover, was given. It had caused an exaggerated aghast look when Y/n had used it only days ago, which also made her tense in worry that she had insulted him, but the loud laughs that Feyre couldn't hold in let her tension ease.

The chuckle to her right brought her attention to the gentle giant that she now knows as Cass. He was a breeze to get along with to say the least. Although her initial assessment as him being the biggest- thus- scariest was the most far off out of the three. Granted, he was a force to be reckoned with, but amongst friends he was nothing but a pile of jokes, laughs and warmth.

His large stature altered a bit sideways as he folded his large wings into himself further as to not hit his brother, turning towards Y/n.

"I'm offended I didn't get an invite to this gossip session." The human girl laughed while giving a hug into the side of the larger male.

"You can't gossip when the topic of the gossip is there." She joked. Shaking his head, Cassian offered another squeeze to her body before letting go and stepping back a bit.

Then all who was left was Azriel.

The very male that she admittedly harbored a small stupid crush on as his soft shadows continued to swirl around her space. They had had multiple conversations, but also multiple silences, just allowing each other to exist in the other's company. Over these past few days, it was found that they had very similar sleeping habits, finding it hard to find peace to rest and keeping them up to all hours of the night. Initially, the small creek of the Spymaster sneaking out of his room the first night had Y/n shooting up off the couch, throwing the book she had been reading to the ground. Azriel had apologized that night for startling her, but it was also the night they became comfortable within the space together.

"Can't sleep?" Her voice was soft, soft enough to have the spymaster's eyes flutter slightly at the sound. Her silhouette was illuminated by the hearth that still flickered in life, it made the curve of her form warm and inviting to his eye. The setting was oddly, intimate.

"No, sadly." He offered. Y/n nodded while taking ahold of her hands, laying them in front of herself. Azriel realized it wasn't a defensive or uncomfortable gesture, just one that was simply inquiring. Not knowing what else to offer, Azriel attempted to meet her halfway realizing he had stepped into her impromptu 'room' as she had given away her only beds to himself and his court. "Cassian snores."

Azriel winced the moment the sentence came out of his mouth. Never in his life has he felt so inept to talk to a female.

However, nothing could prepare him for the soft bell like sound of a hushed giggle that resonated from Y/n. Her eyes held mirth as she picked up the book from the floor and moved her bedding over on the larger seat, placing herself in one of the corners.

"Well, you are more than welcome to come here for some peace. I normally read until much later." Offering the seat on the other corner of the more comfortable couch Azriel couldn't push down the budding warmth that spread within his chest.

Y/n couldn’t help it. She didn’t know why her nerves settled with this fae in particular, but the dry remark of Cassian snoring had her defensive pacifism towards him dropping like the dead. He looked just as lost and hesitant as she was, she couldn’t help but giggle at it. The image of this tall, dark and handsome powerful being having the same reserves about someone as frail as herself made this whole ‘I should be worried’ thing seem petulant. If he truly meant her harm, she knew she would’ve already been dead.

He stood there for a moment, Y/n assumed he was trying to figure out what to do about the offer.

“There are some novels on the shelf under the stairs.” She offered. “You’re more than welcome to help yourself if you need something to pass the time.”

"Thank you." His tone was soft enough to match Y/n's as he took a step or two over to the desired pages. Assessing the shelf's titles, he grabbed one, grey in color. Brining himself back to the offered seat, Y/n made sure to do one more check to see if he had space to sit and adjust. Upon his weight settling on the cushion less than a foot away from her, she relaxed back into her position.

A soft silence settled over the two as the popping of the fire's light licked at their skin.

Azriel didn't know how much time had passed, he was a good chunk of his novel through, when he glanced back to the human girl. Y/n had been fully engrossed in the story that played before her. Luckily, the binding of the book didn't give way to the soft love story that unfolded within the pages. The glimmer in her eye caught by the Spymaster as a question flooded his mind. Without much thought, he let his inquiry slip through his lips, falling victim to the comforting nature of his company.

"How do you know how to read?" The deep baritone broke Y/n out of her trance. However, the question made an easy sly smile spread on her face. Slowly turning her head to meet Azriel's gaze, Y/n couldn't tell if it was the warmth of the fire that painted his cheeks in a dusty rose, of it he truly didn't think before he spoke.

Azriel wanted the floor to swallow him.

What was he thinking?

How do you know how to read? Really.

The laughs of his shadows taunted him as he swallowed, beginning to try and dig himself out of his never-ending hole.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that-" Scanning her face, that sly smile and raised brows queued him into her train of thought just enough to cut himself off. "You think it's funny." He whispered a deadpan.

"I think this is hilarious, to be quite frank." Y/n closed her book, placing it at her side while returning her attention back to the male. "Out of the two of us, I should be the one stumbling over my words and saying the wrong things."

A sigh followed through her lips; Az fought himself to lean closer.

"But here you are, all of you." Y/n gestured to the bulk of the male on the couch, "Do I make you nervous?"

Azriel allowed his shoulders to fall, melt into the space and even felt his guard lower enough for the girl to peek through.

"I haven't figured that out yet." He offered, placing his book down as well, allowing himself to turn towards the girl. A brief pause as they looked at each other.

"You were asking that because Feyre couldn't, right?" Y/n began. Az nodded a simple 'yes', allowing her to bring her knees to her chest, getting comfortable. "I barely knew myself when I found her, and we became close. I had maybe two, no, three books?" Y/n's eyes had glazed in memory.

"It was always on the list of things to try and teach her, but I could only work so fast." The spymaster quirked his head towards her at that, an elaborative gesture. "Survival seemed more important." Was all Y/n gave him. She had hoped it wasn't received as a 'I don't want to talk about it', but it was simply a sore spot for her. She had faulted herself on all the things she never got to do with her best friend, but truly, some things were more important.

"From when she left, I got better. Taught myself to read more sophisticated books to a degree and attempting to write when I could." Y/n looked down, blush coating her cheeks. "I still can't write very well. It isn't super legible."

Azriel had imagined this was similar to how his brother felt upon realizing the female in front of him was pushed aside on something so vital but simple.

"Would you like to practice? I can help."

"You are only going to be here for a couple days."

"I'll be back." Y/n was surprised at the instancy and promise that laced Azriel's voice. For her, she would be lucky to see Feyre again after this, but now, there is another promise for someone else to come see her. For someone else to care about seeing her.

"Okay." The heat didn't leave her cheeks for the rest of the night as their conversation continued after that, soft and vulnerable in nature. As the rest of the house slept, it would be a little secret of theirs and routine for the following days. Every night, right as Cassian would start to snore within the shared bedroom, Y/n could count on the shadow of wings and a soft hum of blue stones making his way down to the couch, grabbing a book on his way.

"I'll be back." Azriel said, bringing back Y/n the present. His tone wasn't as warm as that night, but the underlying promise still stood prominent between them. A small elbow jab into the side of Rhys had him turning to his mate, clocking the excitement in her eyes as she watched the two.

You are sending him back here upon the earliest opportunity.

Of course, Feyre darling.

Y/n hadn't moved from her spot and Azriel didn't know if he should go for an embrace like his brother or keep his distance. Everything in his being told him closer, closer, closer.

Closer. Closer. Closer. Embrace. She wants it. Embrace.

Or it was just his shadows pushing him towards her. Y/n had noticed during the time they spent together; his shadows couldn't help but flock to the similar nape of her neck like they had done the night they met. Upon its repeated offense, Y/n had assured the spymaster that it was a welcomed experience and to not worry about it. To her, she couldn't quite grasp the whole 'they are a part of me' conversation, so in her mind, every so often the slipped out from his control.

Azriel didn't correct this way of thinking at all. In fact, he indulged in it more than he probably should have. When she had left for the woods, a small cluster of them had followed her without much of her knowledge. Anytime her frame was out of his gaze a small tendril would follow, reporting back to its' owner of any inconvenience or issue that she might come across. It was a precautionary measure for his high lady's best friend, at least that is what he told himself as his mind eased with the quick sight of shadow darting behind her neck.

The brush of wind and breath against Y/n's ear had her shiver slightly. Even without a welcome embrace of the male, this was oddly more him.

As the group funneled out of the door, the promise of aid and help floated in her direction before they had disappeared into what seemed was the wind.

She wouldn't see anyone from that group again until a week or so later when a rapt on her door drew her attention from the meal she was prepping for that night. She hadn't been expecting anyone, her normal buyer for game wasn't set to arrive until next week and her produce hadn't grown in for the month yet to be selling, so Y/n was at a loss.

Hesitantly making her way to the door, she stopped to listen to see if anyone would inquire about who they were or what they wanted. Upon pressing her hands against the door in preparation to crack it open, a familiar breath against her ear made an involuntary smile take ahold of her features.

"You know, it is pretty cold out here. Could you please open the door?" The voice of Azriel came out muffled through the wood.

Y/n couldn't open the door quick enough to grab the male and drag him inside.

A small chuckle rung from him as he followed her in quickly.

"You can't do that!" She chastised, quickly closing the curtains and peeping out the window to make sure nobody was around.

"I didn't want to be rude."

"Ya? Well, be rude. You will get yourself killed otherwise."

"Am I supposed to just winnow in here then?"

"Win what?" Azriel stopped, placing a small sack down on the couch, turning to her with amusement in his eyes. His brow raised in question, asking to continue, it had Y/n nodding.

"Remember when we left?" Y/n nodded again; the motion making the spymaster's chest flutter. "It seemed that we just..." He searched for the word, "disappeared?"

"Yes, I assumed one of you had magic wind powers that no one told me about." Y/n knew she sounded stupid, ignorant even, but this whole experience made her ignorant to what felt like everything. However, Y/n would be as ignorant as she needed to be to elicit the loud laugh that came from Azriel. He was sat down now, all but sprawled on the couch in laze. The two had been comfortable before, now with his return it seemed they had entered a much deeper trust.

"No, that's not-" another laugh, "not how it works." Y/n followed suit, letting herself settle on the nearby seat. She giggled at the situation.

"What? You can't expect me to get that right first guess." Her giggles filled in the space between Azriel's now dwindling laugh.

"It is actually close now that I think about it." Looking to her again he began his short explanation. "It is some sort of magic. Cassian can't do it."

"Ah, I see. Doesn't have the ol' flare that the rest of you have?" The spymaster didn't want to think to clearly about the ease in which this girl pulled a relaxed smile from him.

"No, I guess not." He had continued with his little explanation, Y/n nodding the whole way through. Upon his finale she had adjusted herself to stand again. His eye's grazed over her form as she stood.

"Where are you going?" Her cheeks warmed.

"Just to add some more ingredients for dinner."

"Oh, speaking of which..." Az had reached for the bad he had tossed onto the furniture earlier, prying open the top. Reaching in he had grabbed a handful of a smaller pouch that resided in it. Upon tossing it towards Y/n, her hand instinctually catching it from the air. It was heavy and 'clinked' when it landed within her palm, that familiar weight and sound had the girl's eyes widening. "That is from the court."

"By the gods, this is a little much for a couple months, no?" It wasn't that Y/n was ungrateful, but a pouch filled as much as this one could have her living more than comfortably for a long time around here.

"It isn't that much Y/n."

"Yes, it is."

"Not for Rhys."

"Still, I feel bad."

"Why do you feel bad?"

"Because I feel like I'm using you guys."

"You are not using us."

"Really? Because how heavy this is I would say I'm using."

"Just take the coins Y/n."

"Okay."

Y/n twirled back towards the kitchen, quickly finding her stash of money and hiding it away. The quick banter between the two lingering in the air as a grin still remained on both of their faces. Following through with her plan, Y/n began adding some more portions to the already marinating meats.

The hours passed by quickly, an ease of comfort and warmth enveloping the two while Azriel got his tasks in order for what he needs to find and where he could go to find it. Y/n didn't pry much about his work, obviously seeing the tenseness gradually seeping into his form with each shadow that would return to him. So, as dinner came and went, the girl had made herself busy preparing his room and planning her route for the next day.

When she came back to the living room moments later, Y/n was surprised to see the lack of the hulking male that was once sat on her couch. Picking up her pace, she had quickly cracked the front door to see if he had left by foot. Upon finding no footprints on the snow, she shut the door and returned to cleaning up the place a bit more before his return.

Hours ticked by, Y/n had changed and prepped for bed quietly stepping back into her living room, grabbing the latest novel on her way. She had adorned a simple nightgown, nothing fancy or elaborate like what she had seen the Archerons wear after Feyre's departure, but the garment was divine to sleep in, emphasizing the "gorgeous silhouette" that her best friend had insisted about. She had worn it many times before, but the idea of the Spymaster seeing her in it had her heart skip a beat at the thought.

Y/n had taken her seat across from the fire that cackled, opened her novel, and began to read.

Azriel was annoyed.

He had gotten a whisper from one of his shadows about movement within one of the queen's guards and upon his departure, he didn't even have time to leave a note. Az knew that she wouldn't fret after hearing the summary of winnowing hours prior, but the thought of her looking for him without explanation about his absence struck a chord within his chest. He had been staked out for hours, not moving or even twitching from his position amongst the dark. The whispers continued to circle him, all reporting the same thing.

He had wasted his time tonight, there was nothing substantial going on with the Human Queen.

He let the vein in his forehead throb with the clench of his jaw. He had turned once more, checking the area around himself before settling on the decision to leave. His body almost longed for warmth despite his anatomy making it very hard for him to be actually cold. Azriel stopped his thought before he could dive any deeper on the thought of the specific heat he craved.

Home. Back. Beauty. Soft. Beauty. Leave.

It was a drug he couldn't quit. Without much else of a thought, Azriel had allowed his shadows to take him back to your little house that stood at the edge of the wall. Taking your prior conversation (and as much of a threat as Y/n could conjure towards him), he had winnowed right into the living room, bypassing the door.

Warm. Soft. Beauty. Look. Look. Look.

Azriel's eyes had trailed over to the couch, Y/n's form capturing his attention immediately. His shadows hadn't been lying, the way you laid was that of a spiritual sight. The curve of your body held gently by a soft looking nightdress that she must've put on after he left. The familiar lick of the hearth's light caressing her softly, almost akin to the most attuned lover, kissing her skin and shadows.

I was a sight that Azriel forced himself to memorize, and one that he knew he would see in his dreams to come.

It was obvious that you had been reading, the novel fallen on to the floor with some pages crinkled with its own weight.

Although Azriel didn't want to disrupt the sight of something so vulnerable and captivating, the thought of her sore body the next day from a fitful rest on the used couch made him move quickly. He had prayed to whatever deity that listened that his 'quiet' reputation proceeded him as he took steps on the creaking floor to get to Y/n without waking her. Upon his success, he let out a silent breath.

As effortless as she looked, Azriel had picked her up cradling her to himself as securely as possible without altering her form. Her slight sigh and twitch had him stalling for a moment, checking her heartbeat to ensure she was in fact still asleep. With his confirmation, he began his trek up the stairs and towards her room. He had passed by it multiple times during his prior time with his court, but holding her now as he placed her onto the bed, it stirred that inexplainable flutter in him.

Az had wanted to start helping Y/n on her writing tonight, but the subtle (although meaningless) shift in guard had pulled him away.

Tomorrow night then.

Y/n was ecstatic to have the spymaster around for as long as he did. Although only a couple days, the two had bonded and laughed with each-other. Much to Yn’s surprise, Az had been adamant on beginning her practice with a pen. It was a bit rough in the beginning, but by the end of his stay she was confident in some of the letters and how they flowed.

But sadly as all things do, he had to return home.

It was another awkward goodbye, this time the brush of his shadows lingered, almost matching the lingering gaze he shared with her. Y/n had sworn she almost got lost in it.

He had left her with the same promise as before.

“I’ll be back.” Then the male all but vanished from her door.

The next time he had stopped by it was in a flurry of motion, one that even had Y/n reeling. He had apologized before vanishing away only to be back in the middle of the night. Upon the sun rising, he had left a platter of produce on the table with another small pouch of coins and a note explaining his hasty departure.

It made Y/n smile, although disappointed she couldn’t see him more.

Occurrences like that became common for the two. His stays never lasting more then a couple of days at most before he was gone again. Through Azriel’s increased trips, Feyre had akin him to a letter boy with all of her messages and small trinkets that she wished to tell her still human best friend. As for Y/n? She couldn’t be happier in her life if she tried. Sure, Feyre wasn’t here with her next door and the male she has come to crush on like had their own demons to fight which took their time, but for the first time in a very long time Y/n felt remembered.

Even though the last trip that Azriel had taken tested the waters between the two, and Y/n would be damned if she didn’t stay up at night in embarrassment.

The breath against her ear didn’t startle Y/n anymore. She had become akin to the soft silken caress of the spymasters shadows and even reveled in their touch when they caressed her neck. The snow had officially begun to melt by now, the ground slowly becoming soft as the sky broke away to the sun once more.

“I need to wash the bedding in your room before you retire for the night.” She had twirled around, gentle and soft, adding to the allure of the scent of fruit that she had been cutting prior. There stood Azriel, as beautiful as ever, in her foyer looking over her form. It was a welcome gesture as since as much as she had tried capture his attention, he seemed as fortified as a fortress. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t attempt to try and test the boundaries between them. A glance here, accidental brush there, the best of her wardrobe when preparing dinner for herself hoping he would snatch her away.

The last thought was a bit much, but her mind didn’t care.

Az had noted a couple visits prior, sent a compliment towards her and the dress she had managed to adorn through the leftovers of the last coin pouch. It was a frivolous purchase, but she knew she needed to be a bit more open to receiving help as Feyre would have her had (and no doubt Azriel’s) if she didn’t.

“Don’t fret if it isn’t done until later.” The Spymaster assured. Y/n couldn’t help but throw a questioning glance at him. “I have to check something out for a bit and report. Might be a little while.”

“Shall I count you for dinner?” Y/n had hopes he would as she had missed him from his time away. “I’m going to grab some drinks from the market today, I was hoping you would try them with me.”

“I should hope so. If not this will be a long night.” Y/n smiled at that.

“Any specific types of drink you prefer?”

“Whatever you favor.” Azriel did not know much of human alcohol, he assumed there was the standard of wine, but that was as far as he had ventured. It wasn’t worth much to fae as it was not nearly as potent to have any sort of effects.

“Ah, I well then it’ll be a surprise to us both.” Y/n had turned around fully, back to her task, and also to hid the slight brushing of red that dusted her cheeks. She was embarrassed by her lack of experience, but he didn’t need to know that.

Obviously, Azriel figured it out, and quickly at that. Her hesitance with accepting his answer along with the slight rush of her heart and as a dead giveaway. Thinking about it now he assumed that there wasn’t much that this human girl could lie to him about that he wouldn’t catch. Az knew he can read people well, but this was almost effortless, as if he was attuned to those emotions.

He also knew that since her experience was limited, if at all, she would definitely have 0 tolerance.

Even if Az would be caught up in the most perilous situation (he wouldn’t be, but even so) he would make sure to find himself back at this little house by sundown.

As for Y/n, the idea that the male would be there for the experience brought a sense of comfort to her. Yes, it wasn't Feyre like she had hoped as since they had planned to get her 'inebriated' according to her best friend, but it was someone.

Y/n wouldn't be alone.

Plus, the person she would spend the experience with was a hulking dark and handsome male, so that was a huge bonus.

It wasn't long before Azriel had head out, making sure to bid a small farewell and promise to see her tonight. Y/n had taken this opportunity to not only tidy up the house, make sure his room was cleaned and ready, but also to make herself a bit more presentable to head into town. It wasn't often that she ventured this way, most times she was fresh from the forest and outside her house skinning the latest kill for fur and cuts of meat. Occasionally she would venture in with produce and some wheat she could grow year-round, both instances made for dirty work and one that wasn't very presentable.

Now as she ventures that way, freshly bathed, adorning new clothes and smelling like berries; Y/n felt new.

She had missed the glances her way from the men around her, and the warmth she was received with from the elderly women as she walked by. The way she had held herself was that of a below common person, but in the eyes of the people, she was anything but. If they hadn't watched the girl grow up there would be no doubt that she would be mistaken for the very thing they feared most from her beauty alone.

"Hello." Y/n found herself standing outside a small storefront, the walls adorned with bottles. Within the booth, a smaller man sat, a worn cap on his head. He received her with a smile.

"What can I help you with ma'am?" Y/n roamed her eyes over the shelf hesitantly. The different bottle heights, sizes and colors making her indecisive. The shop keep must've seen the nervousness in her eyes as he let out a small chuckle.

"I can give you some recommendations, if you would like?"

The breath of relief was audible from the girl.

"Yes please."

"What is the occasion?" The question wasn't targeted or sly of any sort, more so inquiring for a better understanding of what he should recommend to Y/n, but she couldn't help but nervously ring her neck where a small wisp hid as blush spread over her skin. She had a small hope that (despite not knowing how they work) her hand clasping over the small silken thing would stop it from potentially hearing the conversation.

"I have a friend coming for dinner tonight."

"Do you want something to pair with the meal or for after?" A small amount of mirth entered the man's eyes as he mentioned beyond the food. It made the color darken on Y/n's neck and spread to her ears.

"I'm not sure..." She hesitated; it was so out of her element for her to even think such a thing could happen for her. Yeah, aside a couple nights with Feyre where they wanted to "practice" and learn with someone they were comfortable with (at least some of it), Y/n hadn't been with anyone. The thought of her being entrapped in passion, much like the books she enjoys every so often, with another had her already nervous stomach filling with flutters. It only increased when the thought of the fae male being the one to spend it with. "Both?"

She didn't mean to say it as a question, really. The man's grin widened as he nodded, turning around to his inventory. He reached under the counter, shuffling some things out of the way before grabbing what he desired. Before a second passed, he had placed a short red bottle on the counter. Y/n eyed it carefully as the lowering sun's rays hit it perfectly to see the rose-colored liquid inside.

"Pair this with any sort of fruit or shoot it straight. It can be sipped on or mixed." Y/n nodded, checking the price as he turned around again. She could easily get the bottle and another with the ruminants of the coin purse that Az had brought his last visit. Upon fixing his room up earlier, she had seen another stashed away in his bag with her initial on it. She wanted to give the small delicate fabric bag back to the spymaster as she had felt bad for having it as long as she did, so a little drink would be the perfect occasion to use it on.

"Red or white meat tonight for dinner?"

As Y/n ventured back towards the house, the sun began to officially set beyond the tree line. She had picked up a bit of pace on her way back to make sure she had enough time to put on the slip dress she adored so much. Upon her arrival home, Y/n glanced at the windows (which remained curtain shut as to keep out the eyes of others) in hopes to potentially see the outline of a male. She had left fireplace lit and the candle lanterns around the house going as to make sure he had light if he did come back early. Entering the house however, Y/n didn't feel the presence of the shadows or their master within. Placing the alcohol on the table, Y/n made her way upstairs to change and freshen up her appearance.

Upon her satisfaction she made her way back downstairs and to the table where the drinks lie.

She had taken them out of the bag, placing the wine she had purchased for the meal on the small table. Keeping the smaller red bottle with her as she went to the cabinet, Y/n grabbed two cups.

She didn't have any fancy glassware so this would have to do. She highly doubted Azriel would mind.

Placing the cup she meant for him on the table next to the wine, Y/n couldn't help the wandering eye towards the little red bottle that stood ominously on the counter. The way the fire licked at the color looked taunting, but the continued flutter in her stomach at the thought of the spymaster had an idea popping in her head.

Maybe she should try it. Just a little.

Y/n had to make sure it was good before she served it, right?

Before she let herself think too much on the decision, the human girl had popped the lid off, poured a couple seconds into the glass, and shot it back.

The taste was not something she had expected in the slightest. It was sweet, to a degree, with a smoothness that allowed it to gently slide down her throat. The heat that came with the liquid surprised her. Her chest that had been tight all day with the image of her guest warmed and relaxed, the feeling still lingering, but did not have as much of a hold on her.

Y/n like this liquid, she had hopes Azriel would too. Maybe he would even compliment her for picking it out.

A small shy smile broke onto her features at the thought.

Azriel had watched as the sun receded below the tree line. He had done everything he needed to do with his report and check in, quickly making time to tie up any loose ends while he was there. Nothing violent (luckily, as he didn't want to scare a specific human upon his arrival home) but simple covering of his tracks and finalizing some plans before next month.

Everything was clicking into place perfectly as far as he knew.

Giving a small nod to himself, he felt his shadows pull him back to the small house, eager to see the girl within. He didn't fight them but simply allowed himself to appear withing the familiar foyer. The smell of food was the first thing that he had noticed. For a human, with the limited palette that they possessed, Y/n had somehow crafted her cooking to be palatable by fae standards. It had been a plus of his visits here as he could enjoy his time and not feel like he was starving unlike the trip to the other Archeron's house all that while ago.

The second thing he noticed was the bottle of what looked to be some sort of human wine on the table. Az allowed a small warm smile to spread at the gesture. It was sweet, like her, to pick something out that he knew she had heard him talk about prior when recalling his time with his family. It gave insight to just how much she had been listening to him.

The third thing he noticed was the second, smaller bottle sitting on the table slightly behind the human wine. It had been obviously opened as with his quick assessment Az guessed it was about half empty. Taking a step or two to the table, Azriel had picked up the bottle to examine it.

Upon a small sip of the liquid Azriel found It was strong, almost illusionary with its taste. Even he, as fae, felt the warmth go down his throat and a small heat to fill his chest. Confusion gripped him.

This was definitely not a human made drink. If he had any guesses, he would have thought this was some sort of sipping fae gin infused with some sort of floral to cut the bite.

Half the bottle gone made him notice the fourth thing within the house, Y/n's form on one of the seats reading. If the obvious red on her cheeks was any give away to her status at the moment, her lack of notice when he had entered the house would be the most obvious telltale sign.

Y/n was drunk. Deceptively so as she sat cozied up in the chair, obviously reading some sort of romance book.

Az had placed the bottle down a little harder than he normally would, allowing the small ring to jolt Y/n out of her fantasy.

"Azriel! You're back!" Springing up off the couch with more grace than any sane person who is drunk, Y/n had effortlessly gotten to Azriel and enveloped him into a small embrace. It made the male freeze, unsure if he should wrap his arms around the girl or wait until she removed herself from him.

How desperately he wanted to return the embrace.

So, fueled by the liquor that ran through her veins, he settled his hands just above her waist.

Y/n couldn't believe that he made it back for dinner. She didn't try to stop that joy from spreading to her face as the warmth in her body buzzed through her. She didn't mean to drink as much of the liquid as she did, but once she started, the confidence and buzz that came quickly after felt reliving from her crushing nerves.

"I have dinner ready! I also got some of the wine the man at the stall recommended!" Y/n all but burst at the seams with the male's small smile towards her.

"Did he also suggest the other bottle too?" The question was soft, careful to not seem as if she had done something unknowingly wrong. He wasn't upset or anything with her, just an ounce of concern resided in him for her head tomorrow morning.

"He did! It's wonderful too. Try it!" With or without her knowledge, there was very little Azriel wouldn't do for the look that Y/n gave him. Her eyes wide and shining towards him. Very few times had he every received something like this from someone. Az had watched his brothers receive these looks and vulnerability, but never did he think someone could feel safe enough with him to be worthy of it.

Here Y/n stood, almost toe to toe with the fae, giving the best attempt at 'the eyes' that Feyre had talked to her about when they were younger. It was stupid, she knew this, but it was the best time to try and test her effect with them. She made sure to bat her eyes a couple times to emphasize her request towards the shadow singer until he gave a little chuckle and broke away from the embrace. His scarred hands reached for the red bottle and not to long after he was taking a long draw of it from the cup Y/n had selected for him.

"And? Did I do well?" Y/n fished. Azriel gave in quickly.

"Yes, very well. It is quite good, just like how the food smells." Y/n jumped. "Is it ready?"

"Yes!" Y/n all but bounced over to the kitchen, grabbing a plate and handing it to Azriel who had followed behind her. They had sat to eat, allowing the small talk between them to carry. All the while, Y/n had opened the wine and began to pour for herself and Az. It was different then the red bottle liquid. More drinkable and less potent for her. The stall owner did in fact call the type to pair well as one glass became two, two became three, and soon the bottle was done.

Y/n was surely floating.

Azriel should have stopped her after the first glass. The slowing of her movements, softness within her eye, the normal sharp wit reduced to putty as she gently talked. All of it was also why he didn't. It had been so long since someone talked to him gently, reached for him softly, asked him about little details that would normally never matter about himself.

It was as addicting as the drink she had finished minutes before.

Her standing sent a small shock of surprise through him. Her reaching for his finished plate while holding her own had him slightly panicked. He had made notion to stand and take his own plate to put away, but the soft 'I got it' and gentle ease of her hand putting pressure on his shoulder to sit again kept him stationary. Everything in himself put the idea of her serving him in such a way put his nerves on fire. Maybe it was the gin, maybe it was the fact that he couldn't stop the way his eyes trailed the flow of that damned sleeping gown that had his hands twitching to grab.

"We can go to the couch if you want." She had returned to him and grabbed his hand, something that had Az analyzing her face to determine just how drunk she was. They had some physical contact before, but this was a new level.

Azriel luckily let her drag him over to the sitting room. She had guided him to the softest area to sit while she took position next to the male. Upon her placing herself next to him, all but draped on the furniture she let the drink drive her words.

"Is it cold?" Y/n forgot that the male couldn't read her mind, thus when the questioning look towards her and then the fire made a string of giggle slip from her lips. "When you fly silly."

Right, Az was the silly one right now. However, the inquiry was welcome as he settled into his seat and altered himself to see her more clearly.

"Not really. Only If I go really high, but it's dependent on the weather I guess."

"Really? I always thought it would be cold not matter what."

"I'm also just naturally hot."

"Yes, you are."

Azriel laughed.

"No, I mean physically."

"Ya, I know."

"No." Y/n couldn't help but let the confusion cross her face. She agreed with him, why was he laughing? Sure, she would listen to it any time he would give it to her, but it was lost on her why. "I mean I'm Illyrian, we are warm naturally."

The blush on her face all but multiplied and deepened in color, no longer just the drink affecting it.

"But I am glad you think I'm hot." Y/n tried her best to hide in her hands and hair, only for the male to gently reach for her jaw, tilting her head back for him to see. Y/n didn't stop his touch, nor did she stop her intrusive thought to test the theory of his warmth herself. She had strung her hand around his wrist, guiding his hand against her cheek. She didn't think it felt any different than her own hands., maybe it was because the fire behind Az's eyes distracted her.

She had shut her eyes, pressing his marred flesh into her soft skin.

Azriel was going to combust. He didn't know if it was from the ever growing affections for the girl (that he no longer fought as hard), or the growing issue she was causing if he let his thoughts slip for even a second (that he was fighting for his life against right now).

Y/n opened her eyes again, meeting Azriel's easily as a slow, easy smile spread over her. It was as simple as taking a breath. The comfort of it all was that of her relationship with Feyre, but this felt heavier. It was a welcome relief from all the cold and disdain she caught from her best friend's sisters.

"I'm really happy your here." Y/n dropped her hand, which still encased his. "I'm really happy you come to see me."

Y/n had to blink a couple times to make sure she wasn't imagining the slight color on the tips of his ears that she swore was not there prior. There was no look of surprise, or any sort of telltale sign of his that suggested that he was uncomfortable or upset at what she had said, but the wide-eyed look of his had her moving without her knowledge.

She felt her lips make contact with the shell of his ear before she had pulled away to see them doubled in color. Another giggle of hers bubbled out and into the room. Azriel was a statue under her touch, the only notable difference was his slightly heavier breathing that she caught sight of. Before mentioning it however, her head lulled to where his neck met his shoulder, trying to understand why the room seemed distorted more than it had before.

"I'm tired." It was the only conclusion in which she could come to about her predicament. She had felt the male above her nod and a rush of air. It seemed that the statue shadow singer had been holding his breath. Gently pushing her body off of himself much to her disappointment. He stood before her; however, Y/n gave no inclination to move. Her arms however raised in motion for him to succumb to her wishes as she didn't trust her legs to work. A small huff and chuckle exited him before allowing her to get away with such a behavior.

"Okay there little vixen, let's get you up." Her smile was contagious at the name, but she kept the rather heated comments to herself. As she settled into his arms, her own wrapped around his neck in a feeble attempt to try and make herself a bit lighter for the male, easier to carry. By no means was she a tiny woman, Feyre had gotten all the slim genes between them, and while she wasn't unable to live her life, Y/n had curves. Most of it was muscle from the years out hunting and foraging on her own, but it didn't stop the slight worry that she was in fact a bit heavy to Az as he carried her.

Each step that Azriel took was slow, calculated even. He had to try and control himself as to not scare the human girl staring at him so intently that it warmed him to his core.

He also prayed that if he moved slow enough, she wouldn't notice the problem that currently threatened to make itself know if she moves just a little. It sure didn't help that the flesh of her ass was held so easily against his arm, keeping her stationary against him.

Gods she was addicting, and so, so easy to become enamored with.

Azriel didn't understand how in just a couple of months that a human could be so dear to himself. He didn't doubt that the girl in his arms knew him in more depth than most within his life to this day. He truly believed she saw him.

He loved his family, but this was different.

Her bedroom came into view too quickly for Y/n's liking as she hadn't finished memorizing the feel of his chiseled body against hers. Swiftly, as the bed had come to view under her, Y/n had let go of the male and simply fell back into the comfy blankets and pillows below. Her mind swirled with her descent while the only thing that seemed to be in focus was the male of her affections.

"You can lay down too." Her own voice was foreign to her, no longer did she have control over the words that spilled out.

Azriel stood still, watching.

"I don't bite~"

Y/n had reached out to grasp his hand. Successful in her contact, she gently pulled him onto the bed, positioning him on his back, careful of his wings. Without much else of a thought, Y/n had moved his arm just right, allowing herself to curl up within the space it made against his torso. The warmth radiating from him had Y/n passed out in mere minutes, while the poor shadow singer fought demons to keep his composure and not jump the girl.

The next morning Y/n hadn't remembered the entirety of the night, but she sure did remember the little love-bite she had quickly delivered to his ear. She had apologized profusely if she had made him uncomfortable and swore off the sinning liquid. Azriel had insisted that she would in fact want to drink again, and that he didn't mind in the slightest about her welcome intrusion of his space. Y/n wasn't convinced but still took her apologies and made them breakfast while nursing her head.

Sadly, Azriel had to depart that day for a report he had to make to Rhys. This time however, he allowed himself to embrace Y/n, lingering slightly within her scent.

The most recent time in which Y/n had guests within her home, it was the entire Inner Court (or at least the ones she had met before).

"Y/n!" Feyre had yelled upon exiting the winnow into her house. Loud thuds had been heard from the second story before the familiar sight of the human girl raced past all the males and into the arms of her best friend.

"You're here!" If the embrace was any tighter, oxygen would be difficult to pass between them. The sight had made the males in the room melt as the familiar warmth of Y/n surrounded them. Even Azriel couldn't help the small smile that adorned his features despite the jab to his ribs from his brother.

"I am so sorry for the drop in with no warning, but the timing for our play with the queens seems to be now." Feyre had explained, pulling back to look at her.

"That is more than okay Angel, you're always welcome to come anytime you feel."

From the small amount of explaining and information that Azriel had given to Y/n prior through his visits, the timing of it all had seemed to be the most up in the air. They had enough on their plates and didn’t need another excuse to feel bad about being in her residence for the time being.

However, despite having the support of the court even now, she did not have enough to plan for when they were gone in a week or so for her stock. Thus, the decision was that she had to go out to the market, and also the forest. She needed to hunt again just so she can tide her stock over and keep her clients that she had built within the market. Plus, Y/n had wanted to make Feyre's favorite from when they were kids, which required a deer.

"Take up the rooms you had last time," Turning to Rhys and Feyre she gave a small smile, "I'll wash everything and change it for you guys when I'm back if that is okay."

"Don't worry about it Ace, is the washing still where it used to be?" the fae girl prompted. Y/n nodded with a smile. "Then I got it, we have to organize our plan here anyway. It'll give us a bit of a break before getting back to work."

"Knock yourselves out then."

After giving a quick hug to Cass, Y/n's eyes settled on Azriel who had taken a couple steps back. Her body gravitated slightly towards him while he brushed the back of his hand against her arm. It gave the human a surge of confidence.

"Welcome back." Y/n had allowed the low tone of her voice to carry a soft undertone which had the spymaster checking to make sure his family wasn't snooping since they had wandered towards their living arrangements.

"I missed you." The softness in his voice made Y/n melt.

"I missed you too."

Grabbing her hunting bow and dagger, she stepped towards the door. Y/n hesitated before opening the door and looked to the stair that led to her old and new friends. As the sun began to set, the obvious specks of light suggested she would not be alone out in those woods.

"I have to go and grab some things in the market and out..." Y/n trailed off. Azriel had glanced out the window briefly, not able to hide the small flicker of nervousness that showed there. Although Y/n didn't allow herself to let the moment proceed as she broke contact and turned toward the small table that resided near the door. She had taken out the small paper she had picked up some odd weeks ago and one of the pens Az had brought as a small gift. She had been practicing between visits and confidently scribbled the note down.

Out hunting for dinner. Be back soon, stay inside. The town is out.

Deciding that was enough, she strung her cloak over her small frame and headed out the door and towards the tree line, sparing a small glance at the shadow singer on her way out. Admittedly, she hated the forest during this time. There was a false spring that everyone had thought would bring the warm weather to only be hit by one more blow from the mother. With it brought a frigid cold and icy flurries that would no doubt melt by the end of the week. The snow and wind whipped all warmth she had away from her in a matter of minutes and the ever-concerning watchful eye of beasts who long to have her for supper also put her on edge.

Her body still noticed the absence of her friend that used to go not these little missions together. Although the girl is currently residing back at the house, it still stung for when she would leave. Y/n never really got used to the feeling of loneliness that came with her best friend's freedom. Although it was a selfish thought, she did miss the time they would spend hours together just chatting and getting through this life together. She missed her.

She was elated to have her back, even to this capacity. She would never stop being thankful for her return.

A cold tear shook her from her thoughts. Shaking her head, she wiped it away and moved on deeper and deeper into the forest.

Although she pulled the bow closer to her body, she achieved no extra security and for some reason she couldn’t shake the feeling of lurking danger beyond the trees that surrounded her. The wind whipped louder, blocking out the sounds of the forest and any audible cues that would give away a predator or prey. It added to the nerves of it all. It's why nobody should ever have to do this to survive.

As her boots crunched in the snow below her, she allowed her mind to wander as she squatted down into the white below. Here she would stay for an hour or so waiting for a migration or flock to cross her path. Since the snow and wind was so bad however, she highly doubted she could cross many prey, let alone a deer. Predators however were another story entirely, and she was sure she would come across one. Settling down once again, she relaxed the bow and rolled her shoulders, causing the assortment of ash arrows and regular to jumble further.

Hazel eyes flooded her thoughts as she waited. Specifically of a Fae man with wings that is currently resting within her residence that she had left at the door. One with blue stones and friendly darkness that always wrapped around the nape of her neck, it was almost as alluring as all the riches and security in the world. The night he moved her to the bedroom because he had felt unease about her resting on the couch while she had stupidly trusted a drink, the chance she opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he finally allowed a redness to spread over his face as she had kissed his ear. The late nights they would stay up and read, gentle conversation flowing from the both of them, it was intoxicating. Even more than the drink she is still haunted by.

Without the human girl's knowledge, Feyre had called it, and now Rhys owed her all new paints for her studio. The girl had probably the biggest affinity for the male in such a short time that either of them had seen. Granted it had been about two occurrences that the court had witnessed in person, but the closeness of the two and the flustered avoidance that the shadow singer would insist wasn't happening. It was all so obvious, and the first time that both of them where as readable as a book.

Hearing a snap in the twigs behind her, Y/n's body moved like water as she pulled her bow taught and aimed with a watchful eye to the intruder of her space. Loaded in the string was an ash arrow, until her eyes met with the very hazel she was just dreaming about.

“It’s just me.” Azriel said with his hands raised, eyeing the tip of the arrowhead. Y/n sighed and lowered the weapon giving a small smile to him. Even with the weather around the two, the male didn’t look even the slightest cold. Sensing the small displeasure of the stare at her arrow she stepped closer and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Ever since Feyre was almost killed and then taken by a Fae man, I’ve carried these. You never know out here, and I had a feeling if it were to happen again, I wouldn’t be so lucky.” She explained and he nodded slightly. The image of her suffering the same as his High Lady was nauseating but was worse as he knew she in fact wouldn’t be as lucky and most likely killed if she were to run into another enemy Fae. "I had it before meeting you all."

She had attempted to reason, hoping that he wouldn't take offense to her carrying the very thing that could kill him and his family.

Her nerves settled though when he nodded at her and offered a small smile to assure her there were no hard feelings.

“Why are you out anyway? I left a note; the town is out today, and I don’t want you all to get caught.” She poked before sending him a small smile as his shadows seemed to envelop her hands to try and keep them warm. The silken texture felt nice against her digits, as she brought them up to give a slight breath to hopefully add some warmth.

“I was worried.” It was simple and curt but the meaning behind it made flurries and warmth spread through Y/n's whole being. So much so, she felt as if she almost didn’t need the jacket.

“Oh,” She paused and looked into his eyes again as she hesitantly stepped closer, feeling a heat radiating from the larger male form. It had been a since the drinking incident that they were so close together. Thinking back to that night, Y/n allowed herself to giggle.

“You aren’t even feeling the cold are you.” It was more a statement than a question, and it made Azriel let out a smile and sigh.

“No. Perks of being an Illyrian I guess.” Y/n shook her head as she took another step into his warmth, allowing herself to fully engulf the memory of that night. He hadn’t stepped back or retreated from her body, so she took this as a chance to not only warm up slightly but also test the waters more openly, without alcohol. His eyes seemed to study her movements as his shadows still swarmed her hands, the curve of her body under the layers of cloth, the way her hair gently blew despite the howling wind, the way the snow reflected off her eyes. Even for a Fae she would be considered ethereal.

Snap

Before Azriel could even flinch and his mind could come back from the thoughts of the woman in front of him, Y/n had placed herself around his side with an arrow taught.

A yell erupted from whoever broke their peaceful encounter as Y/n let the arrow fly. She registered the Faebane soaked sword before the male behind her could and the throwing knife that he let in the direction of the shadow singer.

The arrow hit before Azriel processed what happened, and the man’s body hit the snow staining it with the familiar crimson. His eyes hardened at the sword that fell into the snow and the rage that permanently covered his face, he also noted the ash arrow that Y/n had buried in his chest with great pride. She was lethal, her abilities honed by pure survival and instinct. Even he was impressed by her response to danger. A pride that would soon turn to panic when the girl he became infatuated with turned towards him.

“I understand why the inside part was necessary-” He began but shortly cut himself off when his shadows screamed, and his eyes found that very crimson on Y/n. “Shit.” He began.

Y/n felt the dagger hit; she also knew that if she didn't put herself there it would've stuck the male behind her in the middle of his chest (although she highly doubted it landing as his shadows had coiled around himself without his realization she guessed). Luckily, she knew it didn’t hit anything too vital as it embedded into her shoulder, but it would leave one hell of a scar and at least a month of no hunting for her meals and trades.

“We need to go home.” She ground out. Azriel nodded quickly before scooping the smaller girl into his arms.

“You know, when I imagined of your size in my arms, I did not have this scenario in mind.” He attempted to joke, but when it landed and Y/n wheezed, it was painful. He cursed again and quickly melted into the shadows to get home.

“You think about that?” Y/n wheezed out. Allowing a small tense chuckle to escape him, he took in the now significantly paler girl.

"More times than I care to admit."

Coming to the familiar door, he rushed inside whilst the few of his family talked over some food and a fire. His sudden appearance had startled the group, and it took Rhys to speak up about the startled and shaken look on his shadow master’s face.

“Help her.” Such small words and yet the whole of the building into a frenzy. Launching up from the couch, Feyre cursed at the girl as she willed her magic into her smaller body to try and help heal her.

"What the hell happened?!" She exclaimed upon seeing the wound not close as she was intending. Unbeknownst to the group, Feyre had never seen her friend with this much blood on her. Sure, they had skinned and butchered game when they had got it, but it was never hers.

Feyre hated the sight.

Everyone did.

But none more than the male who had carried her back.

Cassian attempted to find any gauze and ointment that could take the edge off of her pain upon Feyre's directions to the cabinet, even if it was a slight improvement. The way the girl forced back her writhe of discomfort was not a welcome sight. Even Rhysand was with his mate tried to aid in the healing but to no avail, much to their shared displeasure. Azriel was on the other hand by Y/n’s face, watching to see any change and trying to comfort the small girl.

“I’m not dead, just dying if you don’t get this thing out of me and stop the bleeding.” She bargained trying to sit up wincing as she went, but the High Lady of the house pushed her back down.

“No, we are fixing this. Stay still. Please” Azriel grasped her hand trying to will his own agenda of her staying down and letting them heal her. He knew she would be fine. The wound wasn't fatal in the slightest and hadn't hit anything that would be a long-term issue.

The sight of this female, this human woman bleeding on a table with a throwing knife that was meant for him through his brain into a spiral. The nudge in his chest had begun to feel like the knife had hit him, not her.

“It won’t work.” She coughed. Everyone stopped to look at her as Cassian began unloading the things he found. “It was meant for Az, it’s coated in faebane and ash. Magic won’t work.”

Scarred hands had grabbed hers, tight and almost pleading. A realization settled over Azriel as he held her steady. A realization that he didn't know what to do with, nor did he ever think would happen.

Almost if he sensed it too Rhys snapped his eyes to Azriel.

Rhysand looked to Azriel’s eyes for confirmation, he nodded and went back to holding her close, unable to think of doing anything else.

It was going to be a long month for Y/n.

Hope you all enjoyed! I got a bit carried away with everything.

Tag list: @rcarbo1 @cherryinsalemverse @kabekusa @hellohauntedturnstudent @optimisticbabydreamer @historygeekqueen @whhyyynottt @love-over-fears @alainabooks143 @ariaaira @snoopyspace @moonlwghts @meritxellao @paintedbyshadows @tiredsleepyhead @annaaaaa88 @willowpains @annamariereads16 @the-onlyy-angie @bbontenswhhore @rahdaleigh @casiiopea2 @littlemissfix-itfic

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #feyre archeron #rhysand #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel angst #slow burn

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b-lossm · 7 months ago

Text

Change (In the house of flies)

poly! caitvi+reader angst [but its all cait for this part]

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 EP 3

Pt.2

You hear your front door open, Its been about a week since you've seen your girlfriends and you're worried. They went on this 'big mission' that warented goodbye sex,,, so yeah, you where scared.

"Cait? Vi?" you see Caitlyn first, hair messy and clothes bloodied, you almost start to cry and you rush to hug her but she just pushes you off "Stop" she sounds heartless "what happened Cait?" you ask, desperately trying to find out if Vi was alive or not "She stopped me" "Stopped you from what?" you ask shakily "Killing Jinx, there was this stupid child in the way an--" you cut her off "A child?" you ask, trying to get a read of any emotion that isn't just anger, "Yes! why do I have to repeat myself? God you don't get it, I had to kill her, for my mom, so what if I could've killed the kid?" she snaps, you pause and stop worrying about her.

You and Vi grew up together in the undercity, dating all those years ago but when she got put in prison you assumed she got killed by enforcers, everyone did. So when she finally finds you after hunting you down you cry, you thought she was gone, you told the firelight children stories of her, but there she was,, hugging you and kissing all over your face. Imagine the surprise on your face when she told you that an enforcer took her away for no reason that night, of course an enforcer would do that, they killed her parents--killed yours, twice, why not put some kid in jail?

That brings you back to now, a blank but still surprised look on your face "what did you say?" you ask breathlessly, backing up from her tall figure "Oh come on y/n you know I wouldn't have missed" she hisses at you, throwing her shotgun on the floor "God.. who are you..?" you ask in disbelief, your sweet, funny Caitlyn? no, Whatever that is isn't her, that isn't the same girl who gave you the money to have your own apartment in Piltover because the trip to her house was too far from Zaun, this isn't the Caitlyn who bashfully confessed at the same time as vi, this isn't the same Caitlyn who cuddled you and Vi to sleep, this just isn't her. You back up once more "Where's Vi?" you ask shakily, praying she didn't shoot her "She got in my way" she said coldly, her eyes boring into yours "Caitlyn what does that mean--" she cuts you off "Hopefully where I left her" what..?

"Cait what the fuck does that mean" you ask, praying to Janna she didn't mean what you thought she meant while putting on a coat and grabbing your gun, she sighs "At the bottom of some windpipe thing, she was crying, where are you going?" oh so she cares about another person,, "I'm gonna find her Cait! Why the fuck would you leave her there?" you ask angrily, grabbing your mask "Because she stopped me." she says coldly "I have matters to attend to I must leave" "What do you mean you must leave Cait?? What about Vi, What about us??" you yell at her, first time for everything you guess. She sighs, taking a disappointed breath into her hand as she picks up her shotgun "You don't understand what those animals did, I'm leaving--" "If you leave I do, stay Cait please, come with me to find Vi" you beg, you don't even know where they went, you where lost, just like when Benzo found you.

"Then I guess your gone" She says coldly without a word, silently leaving and heading to her home.

"w--wait Cait please come back-- Caitlyn!" you run after her, you catch up and try to gently grip her wrist "Please Cait just--" she hits you in the gut with the back of her gun, unbeknownst to you after having done the same to Vi, you sob and collapse while holding your side as she walks away without a word.

fuck.

'i understand now' you think while she walks away, you get up and head straight to Zaun, still holding your aching liver. You couldn't just let Vi stay there--wherever she was all by herself, not again, you couldn't bare the thought of her being in a tiny cage, cold and alone again.

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

Twas the night before Pitfighter! Vi...

part two after pitfighter vi bcs I #needthat part three will follow the ending of arcane (if they get back tg or not)

#b lossm #arcane x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman angst #arcane angst #wlw #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #arcane season 2

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yapperblog · 6 months ago

Text

Like it's the last night

Tags: angst, brief mention of a break up, lapdance, oral (m! and fem!receiving), fingering, PinV (unprotected).

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

Joost turns to see you, his whole body physically relaxing at the sight. In a blink of an eye he is standing next to you, ready to wrap his hands around you, feel the smell of your perfume. Before he gets to move closer, you turn around suddenly.

"We need to break up." your voice is stern.

"What?" he says with a chuckle, thinking he misheard you.

"I am breaking up with you, Joost. We can't keep going like this anymore." your face is without any emotion, he watches you say the harsh words so easily, like it's the most natural thing. But it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Why? What happened?" his heart sinks. Are you pulling a mean joke on him? "I don't understand." he tries to reach out to touch you, but you take a step back, his hand falling limp by his side.

"This is the problem. You never understand. How can you not see that you are pulling me down?" your words feel like a barb wire around his throat. "I deserve so much better." you say and tears start falling down his face, meanwhile you remain so stoic, that he starts to believe you are right.

He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, he watches you go, his legs not moving. He just stays in place, your figure disappearing in the distance.

"Wait!" Joost screams.

He sits up in his bed, face wet with tears. His hand immediately moving to your side of the bed searching for you, but it's empty. The panic sinks in, his brain still hazy.

He puts his face in his hands, finally coming back to his senses, realising it was all a dream. A nightmare even. He checks the time on his phone - 7:10. You left for work already, you are still his girlfriend, you didn't break up with him, he repeats to himself. But the words you said keep ringing in his head. You do deserve better.

He tries to go back to sleep, but it is of no use, self-doubting thoughts are too loud. He wants to hear your voice, needs reassurance, he thinks of calling you, but doesn't want to disturb you at work so early in the morning, so he settles for a quick text.

"Want to grab dinner after work together?"

he types and hits send, staring at the screen, waiting for you to see it and reply. After a few silent minutes, he puts down the phone. You must be busy. There is no point trying to go back to sleep, he decides the shower will help to get rid of the weird thoughts and forget the dream.

While drying off his wet hair with a towel, he checks his phone again to see two notifications:

"Sure! Would love to!"

"Someone is up early. Everything ok?"

Seeing your text brings a smile to his face. He swears you can read his thoughts, you always know when something is on his mind.

"Just a bad dream. I will come pick you up at 4."

All day he couldn't properly focus on any errands he had to run, all tasks left behind half-finished. He switches from one thing to another, in hopes of busying his brain enough, but the thoughts are too loud in his head. Is he doing enough in the relationship? Are you truly happy with him? Is he happy? Does he maintain work and life balance? Work definitely takes up more of his time.

His mind flashes back to seeing your face when he wakes up earlier than you, in those silent moments his heart is full with so much love for you, so many times you caught him laying by your side, brushing your hair softly with his fingers, a smile spreading on his face when you slowly wake up, or on the weekends when you both can lay in, spending sweet time in each others embrace, sinking into the mattress when his hips slot so perfectly between yours, rocking gently, hitting all the spots, that make you moan into his mouth. He thinks about how your fingers feel in his hair, when you've missed each other so much, you can't wait to tear each others clothes off, kissing hungrily, his fingers bound to leave marks how hard he is holding your hips, whispering into your ear, how good you feel around him, how much he loves you, pushing so deep into you, getting drunk on your sweet moans and whimpers.

He starts to feel hot at all the images in his head, he needs to change his trace of thought, before he gets fully hard, as he doesn't have the time to deal with it alone right now. Every corner of the apartment is filled with memories, his eyes catch on a broken off piece of a mug, you accidentally dropped on the floor during your last argument. It seems so stupid now, the spilled tears from the both of you so unnecessary. You talked it out after and found a compromise, hugging each other tight, promising and reassuring everything will be okay. He picks up the piece and throws it out.

He starts to feel claustrophobic surrounded by four walls and decides to go for a walk, fresh air always helps, it is getting close to 4pm anyways.

He walks around the park for a while, drawing while sitting on the bench, then gets an Uber to get to your work. He still arrives an hour early, waits for you to finish up, meanwhile busying himself on the phone.

The weather has dropped down very suddenly that week, the cold air biting your cheeks as you walk out of your office building. Joost is all bundled up in a hoodie, puffy jacket, beanie pulled down low on his forehead and headphones sticking out. He is barely recognisable, but you wouldn't mistake him for anyone else.

"Hii." you call out from a distance. You can't help but smile at him waiting for you, you've been looking forward to seeing him all day.

Your voice immediately draws his attention. A wide smile spreading across his face, as he looks in your direction. If he had a tail, it would be wiggling wildly.

He puts away the headphones and quickly closes the distance between you, wrapping his hands around you, trying not too throw himself at you, but it's so difficult after the day he had, he needs to feel you.

"Hi" he says finally letting go of you just enough to see your face.

"Hi." you say again. He is always excited to see you, like a little puppy jumping at your feet when you come home, but this is different. You almost get worried something happened and he can see it on your face.

"I missed you." he says looking into your eyes and leans in for a kiss, he knows it has to be quick, you are in public. But he can't help it, you answer the kiss just as desperate - you've missed him too, for an average day it felt too long that you haven't seen him. His lips feel as intoxicating as they always do, he squeezes you even tighter to him, wishes you were back home already without the layers of clothes separating you. You put your hands under his jacket seeking his warmth. He can feel your cold hands even through the hoodie underneath.

"Let's get something to eat, ja?" he asks, taking your hands in his, trying to warm them with his breath.

"Let's go. I know a good place nearby." you lead the way.

While eating you tell him about the new drama at work, he listens and tells his own remarks and thoughts about your coworkers and what he would have done. Gossiping with him is always so fun, he is the great rare combo of having a friend, who can give gossip and shopping advice, but also a boyfriend, who cares about you dearly and tends to your needs in bed. When you ask him about his day, you notice the lack of enthusiasm, he still tells you all about it, but there is no usual spark.

"What was your bad dream about?" you ask him suddenly. You can tell you hit the spot, this must be what has been bothering him.

He looks at you, knowing he can't get away with trying to brush it off. There is no reason to really, you are always there for each other. He shouldn't hide it.

"I know it's stupid and just a dream. But we broke up in my dream, and I have been feeling off all day. I'm sorry."

"It's not stupid, Joost." you reach for his hand to try to accentuate your words. "And don't be sorry, I would have felt the same way. Sometimes dreams feel so realistic, I also wake up disturbed." he gives you a weak smile. "I love you." you move closer to hold his cheek. "Is this also about a fight we had?"

"Probably." he replies. He hasn't been in a lot of relationships. He cares about you deeply, has never felt this way about anybody before, sometimes he catches himself thinking he wishes he could be glued to you to spend every breathing moment together and it scares him. If you ever loose feelings for him, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"I love you." you say again, seeing he is in his head again. "That's why we bicker, because we care about this" you motion in between you two. "About us. We want this to work and it will."

You can finally see his shoulders relax. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly accept. "Love you."

In the taxi back home you are stuck in traffic. Before the driver regulated the temperature, the windows started to fog up a little at the sides. In the corner of your eye, you notice him doodling with his finger on the window. You lean closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, he kisses at your hairline, putting his head on top of yours and continuing to draw. He writes I love you, and intertwines your fingers together on his lap.

Since that conversation with Joost, you've had an idea brewing in your head. It was obvious he needed to relax, a couples massage could work, but there was also something else that wouldn't leave your mind. It is silly and cliche really, but the thought of focusing all attention on him, making him feel good, reminding him you are his and you'd do anything for him, makes not only your heart flutter. Even if it means giving him a lapdance. He never expressed an interest in it directly, but you did notice you manage to pull the loudest most delicious moans from him when you are on top, so this could work.

Joost is in the other room working on his music, through the closed door you could hear him humming a melody and sending voice memos to Tantu from time to time. This gives you time to get ready: you put on a new set of lingerie, which doesn't leave much to imagination, already in anticipation of his face seeing it for the first time, and a short silk robe tied around your waist.

Now it's the waiting game. You decide not to call Joost over, you leave him to finish up and come into the living room on his own terms, so he doesn't have any lingering thoughts of unfinished work and can fully enjoy your surprise.

As you sit on the couch, mentally preparing the dance you will do, quietly laughing at your own imagination, you hear the door open and Joost's slow steps. You quickly throw your phone further down the couch, sitting up straighter trying to look sexy, giddy waiting for him.

Joost walks in, his eyes immediately meeting yours, a wide smirk spreading on his face.

He whistles noticing what you are wearing. "That's a nice outfit." he says coming to see you closer. You try to keep a straight face and not laugh.

He is about to flop down on the couch next to you and wrap his arms around you, but you stop him.

"I've got a surprise for you." you stand up and smile up at him tracing your finger down his chest. He is wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He reaches for your waist to pull you closer, but you take his hand instead to lead him towards the chair. You gently push him to sit, which he obediently does and laughs confused.

"Ok, so you sit and relax, ok?" you reach for your phone to turn on the music you picked. As you turn around towards him, you catch him looking at your every move. You want to spoil him rotten, your heart is filled with so much love and it's all for him. He feels the same way, he wants you to have everything and more. He buys you everything you mention even in the passing, which you chastise him for, but he can't help it. He remembers the perfume you liked, knows exactly what pastry to bring you to cheer you up. There is never a moment when there isn't a fresh bouquet of flowers in your house, which he brings for you. He doesn't need a reason for it, you are the reason. He showers you in "I love you"s, he is your biggest hypeman, even your smallest achievements are applauded by his loudest cheers.

You take a step towards him, smiling sweetly at him, making sure to sway your hips to the music.

"Is it my birthday today? Did I loose track of time?" he asks laughing, but you see the way his eyes eat your act up.

"I just want you to have a good time." you walk towards him, he spreads his legs apart to make room for you. As you come to stand in between his legs, he sits up to be closer to you, but you push him back with one finger on his chest. "You work so hard" your voice is low. You start walking around him, tracing your finger from his chest to his shoulder, around his back. He turns his head following you. You start massaging his shoulders, feeling the tension.

"We can pretend it's your birthday, would you like that?" you lean in closer to whisper it in his ear, still working your hands into the tense muscle.

"No, this is good." he replies and you can already tell your plan is working. You kiss him on the cheek and continue walking, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You walk around the chair, his eyes never leaving you for one second. You are now a few steps away from him dancing in tune with the slow music, you move your hands down your body, lifting the hem of the silk robe up just enough to give him a sneak peek at what's underneath.

He sucks in a breath, seeing just a lacy string on your hip, but it already has him worked up at what's to come. "Fuck" he whispers.

You walk slowly towards him, you can't contain a smile when you notice his blown out pupils and the way his chest moves up and down. He has never been a patient man, and you love to test him.

"You look so hot." he says looking up at you, when you come to stand in between his legs again. You sit on top of his legs, facing him. "Yeah, you like it?" you put your arms around his neck, moving closer to him, your legs on each side of his. He puts his arms on your hips, feeling the warmth through the silky material, finally getting to touch you, he lets out a sigh.

Before he can reply, you start placing slow kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his nose. "I missed you" you say in between kisses.

"I missed you too." he says, his voice breathy.

"Tell me about your day." you say when you nudge his jaw with your nose, he rolls his head to the back of chair, giving you more access to his neck. You start placing kisses and little bites, his hands grip your hips harder, moving to your thighs.

"I- um" he finds it hard to focus, when your mouth feels so good and warm on his skin, but this is exactly your plan. "We finished the beat," he continues, while you place a kiss on his pulse point, moving closer to his ear. "for the new song."

"So proud of you. Can't wait to hear it." you say into his ear. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he squeezes your thighs, feeling the soft plush skin. Little words of praise always work on him. "What else?" you ask as you move to leave open mouth kisses along his throat.

"I am working on the lyrics for-" you giggle against his skin when he can't finish a sentence properly.

"You are evil." he sits up straighter to look into your eyes, wrapping his hand around your lower back to push you closer to him. Teasing him is your favorite game and he lets you do it, knowing the reward is sweeter. You start to circle your hips trying to feel more of him, a smirk spreads on your face when you feel the outline of his already half hard dick through the sweatpants, your clit rubbing on his tip making both of you suck in a breath, but before you can get too far ahead of yourself, you unwrap his hands around you and take a step back.

"Heyy." his voice whiny when you leave him. Your legs are a little wobbly as you stand up, teasing him got you worked up too quickly. But how couldn't it, when he looks so good, all pliant for you, waiting for your every move.

You turn back around to face him, continuing moving to the song, slowly walking your way up to him again. He seems to have gotten back to his senses in the short break you gave him, you can tell by the smile that adorns his face, one dimple you love so much showing, he looks more confident now that he knows what's coming. His legs are still spread, his hard on so obvious against his sweatpants. Hands on the arm rests of the chair, but you know he wants nothing more but to touch you, and you are happy but to give him that.

"You look so great, schat." he watches you sway your hips to the song, your eyes closes, enjoying yourself, letting him ogle, as you move closer and closer to him, letting the anticipation build. "Could have told me earlier you were planning this, I would have wrapped it up with Tantu quicker."

"I didn't want to interrupt your creative process. Who knows what you are up to with your producer." you say giggling. "You already have matching t-shirts, who knows what's next." you come to stand between his legs.

"Oh we get up to all sorts of things. Aligning our beats together, cranking up the tempo, on repeat all night." You roll your eyes and laugh. "Can't create an album without a little bit of love making, don't be jealous." he says looking up at you, smiling proud of his joke.

"You two are my favorite weirdos." you put your hands in his hair and push it back, running your fingers through the strands. He moans in delight, always begging you to scratch his head laying his head on your stomach after a long day.

"Give me your hand." you tell him, which he happily does. You put the tie of the robe in his hand and he gently pulls on it looking into your eyes, untying your silk robe, watching it reveal your body fully to him.

"You are perfect."

You slowly turn, swaying your hips along to the song as you pull off the robe completely, letting it drop to the floor. You place your hands on either side of the armrest, as you lower your ass over his crotch, your back to his chest, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

"Oh fuck, baby. Just like that" he is holding your hips, letting you move on your own, he just wants to feel you.

You circle your hips, feeling him swell underneath you. You can’t resist the grin, happy at how quickly you can make him hard.

He presses himself closer to you. "Can I touch you more?" whispering into your ear.

"Please." he is not the only one getting aroused. This is supposed to be about him, but you know he enjoys your pleasure as much as you do.

He slowly moves his hands from your hips, up your torso to your chest, cupping your tits through the lacy bra, feeling your nipples harden under his warm palms. You moan at his touch and can feel him smile against your cheek, he is also breathing fast and hard while you continue to move your hips on his crotch. Your arch your back and moan, once he starts pinching and pulling on your nipples, you feel yourself getting wetter each passing second.

"So good for me." he whispers into your ear. You are enjoying yourself, but want to take the control back so instead of grinding this time, you bounce in time with the beat, arching your back to feel his entire length. He leans back on the chair, covering his mouth with one hand. You lean into him, reaching your hand behind his neck, you want to feel all of him, needing him like air.

"Don't." you move his hand, which was covering his mouth. "Let me hear you." his put down his hand and opens his eyes, meeting yours. He leans for a kiss, moaning into your mouth and you eat it all up. Knowing you can make him fall apart so easily, makes you even more aroused and determined.

After a particular move of your hips, you notice him whine louder than usual. So you repeat it again and again, getting off on his sounds alone, your own breathing hitching feeling his dick twitch beneath you. His chest hot like coal beneath you, he can't seem to decide where to put his hands, wants to feel all of you at the same time, he moves from your holding your hips to squeezing your chest, enjoying the feel of it under his hands.

"Baby." he tips his head back. "I'm gonna cum if you continue this." he says matter of factly. He is so lost in you, in this closeness, he is fine cuming in his pants at this point. The stimulation and the sight of you enough to tip him over the point.

"Open your mouth for me." you hear him say and follow his instruction blindly. He puts his finger in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. He then starts tracing it down your chest, your stomach and in between your legs.

"Is this okay?" he asks before pulling your panties to the side, still trying to make sure to care for your needs first. You realise what he is doing, you want this to be about him, so you quickly gather yourself up, slipping out of his hands, turning to face him. "You are the best." you give him a kiss on the lips. "I love you." another kiss. "So much" a kiss on his neck.

"I love you too." he manages to say. "Let me take care of you." a kiss on chest, as you move to sit on the floor in between his legs.

You sit up higher to place a kiss on his stomach over the t-shirt. Then move it up to place a kiss directly on his skin, revealing his tattoo to you, placing more kisses there looking up at him. His eyes are filled with so much love and lust for you, he can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. You move lower and lower.

"Can I take these off?" you ask holding the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Yes." he says nodding. He lifts his hips helping you take it off, letting it fall around his ankles. You place a kiss on the tip of his still clothed dick, feeling the wet spot there.

"Oh fuck." he sighs and you wish you could record all of his sounds and moans to keep it on repeat.

"Can I take these off too, gorgeous?" he nods and you take off his underwear, getting to see his pretty dick. The tip leaking and red. Your mouth is salivating at the sight, you take the base in your hand and stroke it halfway, watching the dollop of precum leak out of his tip.

"I am not gonna last at all." he doesn't want to close his eyes, wants to commit every second of this to his memory, but he is also so close already, he is afraid he will cum as soon as your lips wrap around him and he doesn't want this to end so fast.

You tuck your hair behind your ears and start placing kisses along his shaft, knowing he is close, you decide not to tease him any longer and take him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first. He lets out a loud moan, borderline a whine, as his hands grip arm rests of the chair. You continue working your way down his length, moving your hands at the base what you can't reach yet. He puts one of his hands in your hair, not pushing, just needing to feel you, to ground himself at least somehow. You come up for air, letting the spit mix with his pre-cum, it's messy, but it's just way he likes it.

You relax your throat and take more of him, your nose pressing on his lower stomach. The pressure feels so good around his tip, he can't help but buck his hips, making you gag, he apologises immediately, but feels you moan around him. You continue bobbing your head, keeping your lips around him, licking on the underside, tasting him. After a few pumps you deepthroat him again, you try to keep him there for as long as you can, feeling him tighten his hold on your hair and moan loudly. The muscles of his stomach twitching. He is so loud, you hope the neighbours won't complain, but you can't care about it now, it is all worth it. You move your hand down to touch his balls.

"I'm close" he manages to say as a warning in case you don't want him to finish in your mouth, but you just hum in agreement around him creating vibrations around him, and continuing to massage his balls. You look up at him, your eyes watering, you look so good with his dick in your mouth, almost naked and he can't control it any longer. You feel him throb and he releases in your mouth with a loud groan. You swallow, letting him ride out his climax before you pull away. You wipe your chin from all the spit and his release you weren’t able to swallow. His chest is raising up and down as he tries to come back to earth. You put your head on his thigh, trying to regulate your own breathing. You are still so wet, you can feel your clit throbbing.

"Come here." he says and you pull yourself up using his thighs for support and straddle him again.

"That was so hot." he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, enjoying being so close. You feel him wrap his hands around your thighs and he pushes off the chair standing up suddenly with you in his arms. You squeal in surprise, holding onto his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favor. Did you think I would leave you unsatisfied?" he says and lets you both fall on the couch, managing the fall with his hands.

"Oh my god." you breathe out. "That's a lot of energy after just getting your dick sucked."

"That's what you do to me." you feel his weight on top of you so comforting. He brushes your messed up hair away from your face and kisses you deeply, you moan into his mouth, somehow you missed his lips even though it hasn't been that long. You always long for him, always need more, even being as close as right now isn't enough. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, letting him press into you more. When you have to separate for air, he sits up on his knees to take off his shirt, he feels so hot.

"You look great, did I tell you that already?"

"A few times, yeah." you giggle looking at him, as he lets his eyes eat you whole, appreciate the lingerie you put on for him.

"I mean it every time."

You spread your legs, making room for him, as he leans back down to you. He starts placing kisses along your jaw, while his hands wrap your legs around his hips. "Now you tell me about your day." he continues kissing your face, his moustache tickling you.

"I got assigned into a new project at work." you try to keep your tone controlled, but it's difficult with his ministrations. "I'm pretty excited about it-" he starts kissing along your cheek closer to your ear.

"That's good. I'm happy for you." he says into your ear. You try to squirm away, when his breath tickles you, giggling, but he is holding you close to him. "Tell me more." he urges you to continue.

"I bought that new-" you gasp when he moves to leave kisses on your neck. You realise he is mimicking what you were doing to him. "What happened? Continue." he says into your neck, leaving a trace of bites and soothing with his tongue. "I bought the new lotion I was telling you about. Ah" you moan when he kisses your sweet spot and moves his hands along your sides, feeling more of you. "Oh yeah? The one that smells of caramel you told me about?"

"Yes. That one." you manage to reply.

He moves lower, kissing along your shoulders and collarbone, taking off the straps of your bra, letting it fall down your arms. "You know I love caramel."

"Mhm" you hum approvingly.

He puts his head on your chest, kissing along the exposed skin, but he wants more, looking up at you. "Can I take it off?" you nod and he slips his hands behind your back to unclasp the bra. He kisses the newly exposed skin, circling his tongue around your nipple, making you let a loud moan. It makes him smirk with your nipple still in his mouth, he sucks harder on it, getting lost in the feeling of it and your moans, while his hand teases your other nipple.

You are writhing moaning mess underneath him. He loves having you like this, so desperate for more, desperate for him and him only.

"You are so pretty." he says, while switching to the other nipple, putting it in his mouth. You move your hands to run through his hard, scratching at his scalp, making him moan too.

"Please, Joost. More" your brain is already switching off feeling so pent up. He couldn't ever deny you, you treated him so well, he came so hard, the image of you on your knees for him still engraved in his brain.

He moves lower, kissing along your stomach, feeling the soft skin, looking up you for consent when he wants to take off your underwear. You say yes and he takes it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He wastes no time licking at your folds insistently, his tongue so deep in you. "You are so wet. Dancing for me got you worked up too?" he doesn't let you reply when he licks so generously into you.

"Right there, Joost, yes." your moans encouraging him. He sucks on your clit and licks at you listening for your sounds, what makes you moan louder and repeating exactly those actions. He separates for a second, letting his finger run through your folds, collecting your slick and moving it to your hole, slipping in. Your back arches, he moves his hand to hold your hips, while the other finds your nipple, tugging on it as he dives back to suck on your clit. He feels it twitch under his lips in no time. You almost scream, orgasm washing over your body, moaning loud, as you hold his head in place to ride out the orgasm. He continues licking at you, watching your face and pumping his fingers, only lowering the speed when you push at him of overstimulation.

He moves up, his face lying on your chest again, looking up at you, but you feel his fingers still in you, clamping down on his digits. He lets you calm down, but when you open your eyes, smiling at him, he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you again.

"Fuck, Joost." you moan throwing your head back into the pillow.

"Give me one more, baby." he moves closer to you, petting your head with the other hand, making you look at him. Your mouth is opened in a continued moan, your breathing laboured. His own face matches yours, he is enjoying your pleasure as much. He is fucking you with his fingers like he would with his dick, feeling you squeeze around his fingers making him moan as much.

"Should I dance for you too? Would you like that?" he asks, his fingers moving at a faster pace, curling up.

"Do I put on the silk robe?" he says in between kisses along your jaw. "Turn on some slow sexy music?" he feels you clamp down on his fingers at those words.

"Oh you would like that." he smirks, as you let out another moan of his name.

"Fuck, that would be so hot, Joost. I am not even kidding"

You feel him get hard again humping against your leg. "I need you inside, please." you say pushing at his hand between your legs, "I want you to feel good too."

He takes out his fingers, licking them clean, moaning and putting them in your mouth too, your tongue swirling between the digits. His dick twitches at the sight, he sits up, pumping his dick a few times. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him to hurry up.

"Please, Joost." you whine. "I need you."

He leans in, moving his length through your folds, and finally when his head catches on your hole, he slips in. You are so open and wet for him, sucking him right in, it feels so good, he almost cums on the spot, he has to close his eyes and focus. After a moment of collecting himself, he bottoms out, feeling you stretch around him, he leans closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. He starts picking up the pace, both of you still sensitive from your previous orgasms, you know this won't last long.

The sounds in the room are downright sinful, the wet sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of you clinging onto each other.

"I am so lucky to have you. I love you. Thank you so much" he starts running his mouth against your ear, he is holding himself on his elbows on each side of you, one of his arms sneaks between you to touch your clit, your face twisting in pleasure. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to feel him closer.

"I love you too. I'd do anything for you." he says through gritted teeth, you can tell he is close, know you are. After a particular sharp thrust, your back arches, with a loud moan you gush around him. With the added wetness he can move with almost no friction and it triggers his own orgasm. You watch his face contorted in pleasure, before he hides it in your neck groaning and whining. He comes so deep inside of you, continuing to rut inside you, your mixed releases spilling out.

You are not ready to separate from each other yet, you scratch his back lightly, helping him calm down. He kisses your shoulder. He pulls out of you carefully, seeing his cum spill out of you, mesmerised every time. He sits up and puts his underwear back on. You watch him stand up, while you still feel like jelly. He goes to bring a warm washcloth to clean you up, washing so carefully between your legs.

After both of you are decent, he finds the robe you wearing on the floor. He starts putting it on, the sleeves too short on his arms, barely fitting him, it covers halfway up his ass. You start laughing uncontrollably at how he looks.

"Dude, you look so funny." you sit up and reach for your phone to take a photo of him, still laughing.

"Funny? I was supposed to look sexy" he strikes a pose putting his hand on his hip, pouting his lips. Another one holding a peace sign with his fingers. For another photo he pretends to be shocked, covering up his chest, but the robe barely closes around him. You are doubled over laughing at him.

He reaches for his sweatpants on the floor, taking out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket, going up to the window to smoke, still wearing your robe.

He opens the window and takes a long drag, as your laughter can still be heard. He is so happy in this moment, truly the luckiest man on earth.

#joost klein #joost klein rpf #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #yapperwrites

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