#at first sight convos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blkkizzat · 8 months

Text

.Daddy & Baby ༄

.summary ༄ an overly self indulgent pwp fic on what it's like being in a polyship with Choji (Choso x Toji x Reader) based on my incredibly unhinged discord msg:

.tags ༄ canon au. bdsm, sadomasochism, voyeurism, cuckolding, spanking (kewchie & ass), creampies, pussy talk, sub!choso, dom!toji, sub!reader, bondage, overstim, pup play, taunting, squirting, edging, orgasm denial, pet names: daddy, mommy, pup/puppy, slut. Toji being a meanie pants in general to our sweet baby Choso and the tiniest bit of fluff and domestically at the end. slightly black fem coded but no descriptors .shoutouts ༄ @littlemochabunni & @ryomens-vixen for feeding into my sickness when I shared this in discord. .wc ༄ 3.9k

“T-Tojiii! Fah-Fahh-Fahhhhck~!”

Unable to contain your moans, you grasp fists full of sheets that do little to brace you from the backshots Toji is currently pounding into you. Each thrust gets progressively sloppier against the slick of your bodies drenched in shared fluids. Evidence of this being your second …no, third round. Toji’s calloused hands are imprinted into the soft chub of your waist in order to keep you from slipping away from him.

Fuck. Stretched out around his girth Toji can’t deny how good your cunt squeezes him.

So good, so fucking messy for him all over his cock.

A sinful symphony of flesh echos throughout the room everytime Toji’s loins snap forward slapping your skin together violently as he fucks his previous loads that much deeper into your squelching pussy. Giving your ass an open-handed smack for good measure, Toji smirks at how the sting makes your little pussy squeeze that much tighter around his cock.

Too much, too much! Pleasure filled moans continue to spill from your lips as fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

Your muscles are reduced to goo, trembling under your own weight as you begin to slump forward face first into the mattress. Yet Toji, unrelenting on his mission to bully all 10 of his thick inches into your womb, is not cutting you any slack.

“Uh-uh, mamas, none of that shit now–”

A firm grip on your hip, Toji yanks you up by your hair, forcibly returning the arch to your back. If not for Toji securing you upright, his burly fingers tangling around your locks, you surely would have collapsed.

“–ya know puppy likes seeing the look on y’er face while I’m breaking this tight lil’ cunt.”

With Toji now doing the work of supporting your weight, even by your hair, you’re able to spare just enough energy to blink away the moisture flooding your eyes and focus your sights on the puppy in question.

Your puppy– Choso, is kneeling on the wooden floor tied to the bed frame by his black leather studded leash and collar. Seeing you getting worked over so beautifully by Toji has Choso’s black jeans feeling increasingly tight and sticky from the large amounts pre leaking out of his tip. Rutting into the side of the bed, Choso is desperate to relieve any of the throbbing he feels straining between his thighs.

Yet Choso couldn’t cum, he’s not allowed to. His dick is bound in a silicone cockring that keeps him in a suspended state of titillation, unable to find any release.

Toji’s bullying is why Choso has it in the first place to be honest. Ridiculing Choso that he busts far too easily and would have to learn to hold it in longer like a ‘real man’ if he ever wanted to fully satisfy you.

You’d overheard their convo earlier from the next room over. You scoffed, Toji was just being an ass per usual. Truthfully, Choso satisfied you plenty, even if he was a quick nut he would still fuck you through his tears and overstimulation. But shamefully you had been silent at the suggestion. You resisted entering the room and coming to Choso’s rescue in hopes Choso would comply, just so you could see him all cute and frustrated. You loved how flushed his pouty face would get when he was inside you, begging you to let him cum (even though he often did so without permission anyway) and a cockring would only intensify the experience.

“Just look at him being such a good lil’ pup f’er ya, Y/N. Wouldn’t deny him that lil bit, would ya?”

You shake your head.

“N-No, I-I won’t Daddy… mMM fuck!

Delivering another smack to your ass cheeks Toji’s evil smirk widens causing Choso to squirm more against the bed as he can only wantonly watch from the sidelines.

Choso didn’t care about Toji’s taunts if he also got to have you. He would willingly bark if you asked. However in this situation, fully bound, Choso finds himself laboriously panting. The open mouth gag he dons forces his jaw wide, his tongue hanging out akin to an actual dog’s. Drool pours freely down his chin and drips onto his bare chest. When the need to touch you becomes near unbearable, Choso struggles more but he is immobilized as his arms are also secured behind him in matching leather cuffs.

Defeated, choso whimpers and curls deeper into the bed, his hypersensitive pierced nipples chafing against the mattress leaving them swollen and red. Wishing he was the one balls deep in your core, your pliable cunt becoming mushy and sloshing around his cock instead.

Choso whines are loud even with the gag.

Your heart pulls at the sounds of his choked cries and seeing his eyes water as they beg for you. The urge to reach out and console him is almost as strong as the depraved part of you that gets a surge of dopamine from witnessing such a ‘good, sweet boy’ suffer pitfully in want of you.

“G-Good boy baby, s-so good for me. C-Can y-you wait a bit more C-Cho?”

You managed to sweetly squeak out encouragement in between Toji’s thrusts, knowing Choso could easily break the restraints if he wanted. They’re not even cursed tools so they wouldn’t hold him if he really wanted out of them.

However, Choso was your faithful good boy to a fault. He would endure for you, bricked in his jeans to the point of gnawing agony until you told him it was time.

Choso slowly nods his head, keeping his tears from falling, for now.

Shit, it’s so fucking hot.

The spectacle of Choso in all his aroused anguish has you clenching impossibly tighter around Toji who releases a string of curses as he jerks your back flush to his chest. One hand roughly palms your tit and the other rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers. Your head falls limp to the slide allowing Toji to dip his tongue into your clavicle and nip at you with no regard to how sore you would be tomorrow even if he didn’t leave a mark.

“Y-Ya close mamas?”

Toji's voice slightly falters as his heavy breath grunts across your neck. The way you are pulsing around him is doing him in quickly and he needs to make you cum first or in his eyes he'd be just as pathetic as the sad little cuck at the end of the bed. Landing a jarring spank directly on your clit, your own tongue lolls out of your mouth mirroring Choso.

“A’course ya fuckin’ are nasty slut, yer lovin’ this. Can’t get enough of being slutted out in front of y’er lil’ cuck puppy huh?”

Toji has your body jolting sharply at the sensation and your limbs buckle as you pull forward away from him. Any attempts to escape from him are in vain and frankly, there is no real conviction behind your movements. Your speech diminished to nonsensical prattling, your brain has already short circuited. Utterly drunk on Toji’s fat cock, the shockwaves from his wild thrusts have you spiraling towards release.

The chains on Choso’s leash clank more fervently as he erratically tugs on them, agitated by Toji’s particularly rough use of you.

It was pretty much a given, but Choso was far more gentle in comparison to Toji. Treating your body with the utmost reverence, Choso would bathe you in tender kisses, gently lapping up your sweat and mixed fluids from your cunt, thighs, breast and body as a form of aftercare following a rough session with Toji.

This would typically lead to Choso slow fucking himself deep in your guts while he cooed into your tiddies with a soft sigh, repeatedly murmuring ‘Mommy’ and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Choso had mentioned to Toji plenty of times before to be more gentle with his mommy.

Toji on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck what the lil’ pussy whipped emo boy wanted. Choso couldn’t beat his ass and besides Toji knew how much you liked it when he was wrecking your shit. Also whether Choso wanted to own up to it or not Toji knew despite his protests how hard the lil’ freak would get from watching the two of you. The sight of you looking so messy, so perfectly fucked out, while getting pounded drove Choso crazy.

“Fuckin’ shut it n’ wait y’er fuckin’ turn or ya won’t get one. Don’t think I can’t stay in this sweet lil’ cunt all damn day. Shiu can find someone else to do that shitty ass job n’ ya can stay tied up just– like– that–”

Toji grunts out the last of his words in sync with his hips slamming into you.

Choso would pout if his mouth wasn’t gagged open yet he obeys– anything to be able to eventually touch you, sooner rather than later preferably and he knew Toji would follow through on his threats just to spite him.

Choso’s chains still strained taunt though, in an effort to be as close to you as possible but he is no longer pulling. However, you could still make out the soft gurgles of him calling out for you even with his gag on.

Choso’s whining and Toji’s manhandling of you has you on the very edge. All you need is a nudge which you get in the form of Toji rolling your overstimmed bud between the pads of his rough fingers and swirling his wet heavy tongue along with his filthy words into your ear.

“S-Shit, that’s it, such a good lil’ pussy for Daddy. Gon’ on n’ fuckin’ cum on this cock already mamas, eh? I know ya wanna.”

And you do.

A shaky mewl is ripped from you as your vision blacks dissolving into pleasure, spasming around Toji’s cock as electricity spreads, tingling through your entire body.

You look so lovely with your eyes crinkled and face twisted in ecstasy that Choso surely would have busted for the umpteenth time that night if not for the torturous cockring still on his length. His humid jeans were officially soaked through with pre and his dick twitched against the large stain on the crotch of his pants.

Groaning into your flesh, Toji bites down on your shoulder as he finishes in your pussy shortly after, his girthy mushroom tip blowing his third load, just as hefty as the first two, straight into your guts.

You’d surely be pregnant after all this if you weren’t on the pill.

Pulling out of your sore pussy with a pop, a mix of your cum leaks down his finally emptied balls. Seeing what state he’s left you in, Toji isn’t cruel enough to let your completely spent body fall face first onto the bed. Securing you in his hold, Toji brings you back down rather gently onto the pillows at the top of the bed.

Your chest heaves as you watch Toji smirk down at you.

He brushes away some of the hair stuck to your forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture which you would have smiled at had it not been immediately followed up by a slap directly on your tiddies. Just so he could see the sweat running down them jiggle off, Toji reasons when you yell at him for it.

“A-Assholeee…”

You breathe out weakly while resting your eyes, which has Toji smirking at the extent of your fucked out state.

“Yeah mamas, I am.. So let’s show the puppy here how much this asshole filled y’er slutty cunt up then, eh?”

Parting your shaky legs open with ease, Toji gives Choso a full view of your battered cunt. Globs of Toji’s cum are steadily dribbling out of your pretty pussy and dirting the already filthy bedsheets further.

“Heh, Y/N just look at all that. Didn’t know this tiny pussy could carry all that now, did ya mamas?”

Toji goes to spread your pussy lips open wider but you swat his hand away with a smack, your voice returning to an almost even tone as your breathing calmed.

“S-Stop playing around and go do that job Toji! I don’t need Shiu blowing up my phone asking me where the hell you are again… That is, unless you’re trying to get me to be your mommy too?”

Your head continues to buzz, dizzy from your pleasure filled high, but you’re still able to check Toji’s ass if needed. If he wanted to be ‘Daddy’ then he had to get his ass up and go make some ‘Daddy’ money too.

Tsk. You sassing him like this was just begging Toji to give you round four, fucking the attitude right out of you again.

Nevertheless, Toji gets up from bed. He had spent his last few thousand yen at the boat races yesterday and unless he wanted you nagging him about bills next week and threatening to withhold pussy again, he knew needed to do this dammed job.

“Alriiight, relax Y/N, damn. I’mma go fuck...”

Not bothering with a shower, Toji throws on his sweats, sparing a glance at Choso who was absolutely foaming at the chance to get his turn. He couldn’t resist taunting him a bit more though before he leaves.

“But eh, mamas ya look like shit. Ya should rest, not enough energy to play with puppy right now. We can untie him once I get back, won't be too long...maybe.”

The pained wide-eyed look Choso gave you in the moment was truly gut wrenching. Having to wait three full rounds before he could even touch you was a new feat for Choso and combined with the cockring, there wasn’t much he wouldn't do in the moment to break free. His lust was beginning to cloud rational thought and threatened to send him into a frenzy.

Choso might even go kill Toji’s target himself if that's what it took.

“And whose fuckin’ fault is that Toji? Urgh, I know, I’m tired… but my sweet baby has been waiting too long already!”

Gathering your energy, you weakly sit up and longingly reach your arms out for Choso who is back to pulling on his restraints again, nearly cracking the bed frame this time.

Toji reluctantly unhooks the leash from Choso’s collar which had also been connected to the gag, unshackling him from both simultaneously and pushing him towards you on the bed with a sneer.

“Go clean ‘er up then pup.”

Faster than lightning, Choso’s face is slotting between your thighs, his arms still chained behind him. Choso is on his knees hovering upright over your puffy cunt, abs pulling taunt straining his core so doesn’t fall forward onto you and stress your already sore body further.

The smell of sex in the room was already strong but the intoxicating way the musk was wafting off your cunt made Choso feral. He wanted nothing more than to dive his face between your folds and slurp you dry, ridding you completely of Toji’s cum before replacing it and filling you with his own.

Unfortunately, his jaw is locking badly. Clenching up as an after effect of being forced open for over two hours using the gag Choso had been previously unfamiliar with. Now Choso is powerless to do anything more than dribble a continuous string of thick spittle down onto your pussy, connecting his pitiful slack jawed pout to your already messed up cunt. Choso sniffles, whimpering as his lip quivers in frustration of not being able to eat your sloppy pussy out like he wanted to, his frustrated tears finally falling.

Giving him a comforting smile you don’t hesitate to pull Choso down by his shoulders. Allowing his head to nuzzle his favorite spot, your plush tits. You hushed him gently with a kiss to the crown of his head between his buns and wiping the sweat off his damp brow before you held him tightly to you.

“Shhh– s’okay Cho, you did so good waiting for me baby. I love you so, so much, so proud of you.”

Toji huffs, rolling his eyes at your coddling of a fully grown ass man. His eyes scan the room in a hurry to figure out where the hell he put his holster with his glock so he could gtfo before he hurled at the nauseating scene.

“Mmm, Toji do me a favor and hand me the key to unlock his cuffs, pretty please Daddy?”

Grumbling Toji does what you ask, knowing you’re well aware calling him ‘daddy’ was his weak spot. Only referring to him as such when you or your greedy little cunt wanted him to do or pay for something for you. He wasn’t a fuckin’ simp like Choso though, or at least he thinks so.

Toji grabbed the key off the night stand and tossed it to you. You caught them with a wink mouthing ‘love you’ as he just shook his head with a small smirk and made to leave the bedroom still in search of his gun.

“Toji Daddy, your .44 is on the kitchen table by the way!”

You yell after him as you reach down to unfasten Choso’s cuffs. Toji’s gruff grunt from the hallway is the only response you receive.

“You’re welcome... dickhead.”

You mumble the last part under your breath before returning your attention to Choso. You felt guilty over letting him go neglected for this long. He’d been fitfully humping his cock against your leg and tounging at your nipples since you brought him into your chest.

“Just let me undo these cuffs, then I’ll take such good care of you Cho, m’kay?”

Yet once you unlocked his cuffs and cupped his hot cheeks to lift his head your eyes were met with Choso’s own searing into you. The aggression edging on the corner of his eyes contrasted with the tears running down his face and it unnerved you as Choso sits up.

“C-Cho… you okay baby?”

Choso’s answer to you was in the form of abruptly grasping your ankles and throwing them next to your ears. An icy shiver travels up your spine as you quickly realized how bad you fucked up teasing Choso to this extent when you see red lines forming over Choso’s face.

With Flowing Red Scale activated, controlling and redirecting the blood flow in his body revitalizes Choso’s muscles with adrenaline. Movement returning to his stiff jaw and limbs that had been previously incapacitated.

Choso wastes no time plunging his pulsing cock into your sore cunt. The sensations of the metal prince albert piercing on the tip of his cock scraping against your g spot before ramming into your cervix, combining with the silicone cockring pluging you up full every time he bottoms out, leaves you breathless. Your voice becomes hoarse from strangled screams of both pleasure and pain with every sloppy buck of his hips.

Not being able to eat you out like he wanted to after waiting so long was the breaking point for Choso that snapped the little sanity he had left in the moment. He loved you so much and wanted you so badly. If he couldn’t suck Toji’s cum out of you he would fuck it out and give you even more.

Then they could compare who actually filled your pretty pussy up the most.

Choso’s intensity renders your sights spotty. The only beacon of focus being the silver dog tag that dangled off the studded collar still fitted around Choso’s neck. His Adam's apple bobbed fiercely as warm sweat trickled down his face and onto yours further obscuring your vision.

All thoughts of aftercare had long dissipated. The treatment of your cunt now was more akin to a horny college kid’s favorite pocket pussy. You felt so fucking good for Choso who couldn’t get enough of the way your cunt was drowning his cock. Your pussy greedily swallowed all of him gripping onto him tightly even with the amount of slick spilling out of you.

“N-Need to cum in you so bad Mommy, p-please let me cum in you!”

Finding his voice again, your heart flutters hearing Choso’s whines. Choso is forever your good boy despite him downright dominating you in the moment.

“Y-You can cum b-baby, but you gotta s-stop Cho– Shiiiiiiit– Let’ssss take off your c-cock ring firs–Fuhhhhck!”

You’d never seen Choso this worked up. On any other occasion he would already have spurt his hot load into your cunt by now. However, with the cockring on and his blood manipulation technique flowing through him, he showed no signs of slowing down even if he did desperately want to cum. The way Choso was pistoning his cock into you was like he wanted to stab it past your cervix and into your womb.

“AHHHH shiiit not yet, s-so warm, s-so wet Y/N wanna be inside you longer. Don’t wanna leave you yet Mommy.”

Pressing his palms into the backs of your knees Choso keeps you spread open for him as he continues to drill his cock into you. Reaching up you intertwine your hands into his buns bringing his face lower and sticking out your tongue to welcome him into a messy kiss as you feel your next orgasm approaching. You were losing yourself quickly to his bruising pace, feeling yourself begin to slip away into your high.

“Y/N, the gun ain’t in the– Woah.”

Entering the room, still in search of his gun, Toji is taken aback at the scene. He expected to come back into the bedroom to see Choso crying into your pussy, not destroying it.

Howling with laughter, Toji is very amused at the scene to say the least.

“HA! I thought it was gettin’ noisy in ‘ere, I see why.”

Toji had to admit he was a bit impressed, didn’t know the little cuck had it in ‘em. Although, upon close inspection Toji winds up shaking his head.

Of course the lil emo boy was still crying, even when murdering pussy.

Any respect Toji had gained for Choso in the moment is gone again just as quickly.

“Looks like the puppy has a bit of dog in ‘em after all.”

You eventually notice Toji after your orgasm hits. The repeated g spot stimulation from Choso’s piercing and cockring has you squirting hard. You break your kiss with Choso and turn your head to the side directing Choso to attack your neck rather than lips so you could breathe again.

Toji is still chuckling, an amused smirk plastered on his face as he saunters back towards you not missing the pleading look you’re giving him.

Choso was clearly out of control.

However, spotting his gun and holster from under the bed, Toji shifts his attention. Snatching it up before sparring you another smug smirk and making his way out again.

You call after him but are immediately rebuffed.

“Nuh-uh Y/N. Ya wanted to let him loose, he’s ‘your baby’, remember? Y’er capable of handling it from here, right ‘mommy’?”

You would flip Toji off as he left but your hand is jerked back as Choso flips you over onto your belly, still inside you. Only thinking with his cock you aren’t sure if Choso even registered Toji had even been in the room.

Now in the prone bone position, cockring still on his dick, Choso resumes clapping your cheeks while slobbering confessions of love and adoration for ‘his Mommy’ into your neck.

Not showing any signs of slowing down, at all.

Fuck Toji, you’d never let him goad you into teasing Choso like this again, that was for damn sure.

.a/n ༄ idk if anyone was calling them Choji before but was on a discord call and meant to say 'Toji' and 'Choji' came out and so now it's what I'm rollin' with idc idc lol.

.reblog ༄ but likes and comments are also appreciated ty!

3K notes · View notes

teletubbyinlipstick · 28 days

Note

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

1K notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 7 months

Note

Does reader call Robin when she sees Eddie on her street? Or does she call Dustin to see if he’s there for him? I love them Sarah 🥹🥹

Hiii babes!! I love them too!! So I feel like she for sure called Dustin because that’s the only other reason Eddie would be on her street so I’ll let you see how that phone call went 😂 enjoy!💖

-find all things At First Sight here✨

“Uhh hello?” “Hey so I need to know if you have any plans with Eddie Munson tonight and please don’t try to lie to me okay? I’ve known you since you were like three and I can tell when you’re lying.” “Oh uh yeah he’s coming over with Steve.” “You swear? Because he just waved at me at our stop sign and the grin on his face made me think maybe he was uhm…headed for my house.” “Yeah…sorry he’s uhm just going through a…uhh weird time right now so…he’s not really acting like himself…” “oh so he’s not normally this-” “excitable? Happy? Yeah no he’s normally kinda an asshole.” “Really?…then why do you hangout with him?” “He’s a nice guy underneath it all…oh so uh you met him in high school right? What was that like?” “What was what like? High school? You just graduated you don’t remember what it was like?” “No..what was it like when you met Eddie?” “It wasn’t anything to write home about he blew me off and I moved on with my life.” “Did you see fireworks or like maybe-” “what’s with the fireworks? You’re the second person to ask me if I’ve seen fireworks tonight and it’s freaking me out! What’s going on Dustin?” “Nothings going on…shit I’ve uhm gotta go but is it cool if I come by tomorrow?” “Yeah that’s fine…is…is that Eddie in the background?” “Dude she doesn’t wanna talk to you…sorry yeah I’ll see you tomorrow! Bye!” “Bye.”

#at first sight convos #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson soulmate au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby

115 notes · View notes

illyrianbitch · 8 months

Text

Death and His Reaper

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.

Warnings: angsty fluff?, brief mentions of battle and injury, lil convos about life and its meaning, Azriel without his shadows, lowk love at first sight

Word Count: 13k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel could feel the hot, metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, the sharp sting of pain shooting through his body with each ragged breath. A pounding, almost unbearable, pain in his head consumed him, a relentless throb that pulsed with every beat of his heart– each pulse sending waves of nausea washing over him. He tried to move, to shift away from the agony, but his limbs felt like stone, heavy and unresponsive. His muscles screamed in protest with every attempt to shift position, every movement met with waves of agony that radiated through his battered form.

Dark spots filled his vision as the ringing in his ears grew louder. Everything was fuzzy, hazy, blurs of movement and moving color. Azriel could hear sounds around him. Loud sounds, piercing sounds. Distantly, he could make out what he assumed were screams. He wasn’t sure though, and wasn't able to think about it too hard. His shadows were whispering to him, louder and louder, but he couldn’t hear them. The sound rattled in his brain as he blinked. Once. Twice. His vision became more unfocussed.

With a final, shuddering breath, the world dissolved into darkness.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

There was a humming in his ear when Azriel came to, a light vibration he wasn’t familiar with. The ache in his body grew duller with every blink— his eyelids still heavy with pain, or exhaustion, he wasn’t quite sure. One of the same, he guessed. He let a moment pass, taking deep breaths as he oriented himself. He laid in a bed, soft white sheets placed upon him gingerly. Had Feyre tucked him in? He thought for a moment. Why would Feyre tuck him in?

Another moment passed. Azriel became aware of his clothing, his body still strapped in his illyrian leathers— leathers that were eerily clean. No smudges, no stains. Pushing himself upright, Azriel glanced around the room, his movements slow and unsteady. There was no one else in sight, no familiar faces to provide him with answers. He frowned, his brows knitting together in a puzzled expression. With a hesitant sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. He wavered for a moment, grasping for balance, before taking a cautious step forward.

He casted a casual glance towards the bed, rubbing his hands across his face in exhaustion as made a move towards the door, his thoughts scattered and disjointed. But then he stilled, his head quickly snapping back. Instead of an empty bed, Azriel's gaze fell upon his own body, lying prone and unmoving— paled, almost colorless, wings hanging limply at his sides. He blinked, a flicker of confusion and fear knitting his brows as he registered the scene before him.

“Quite strange, isn’t it?”

Azriel whipped his head around, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger at his hip that he failed to find. His wings flared out angrily, fully extended with curled ends, each single claw at the apex poised and ready to strike. His eyes were wide as they focused on you.

You let out a quiet laugh, a gentle sound that caressed him like a comforting hand. He felt himself falter, a sense of confusion washing over him. Yet, within that confusion was a warmth that spread through him at your presence, at your voice— soft, like a faint ray of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud.

He fought the sudden urge to stand down, an odd sense of safety wrapping around him, unnerving him with the ease in which it filled him. He struggled back, pushing the feeling away. Stay guarded, stay ready, you are a threat. Yet even in his attempts, he recognized a slight release in the tension surrounding his shoulders, a small release in the stance of his wings– decisions he hadn’t consciously made. With his eyes still trained on you, his hand searched the side of his thigh, his hip, the backside of his waistband. He patted frantically, fingers itching to find a form of protection. When his search came up empty once more, he settled for holding his other hand out towards you in warning, his palm facing you as his body fell into a defensive stance. The blue siphon on his hand glowed aggressively.

The corners of your mouth tilted into a small smile. “You do that everytime.”

Azriel didn’t return the gesture. Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he properly took you in. He scanned your body; the way you stood comfortably in front of him, your hands clasped together, placed delicately in front of your waist. It almost hurt to look at you, he observed. He had to squint to make out your features. And when he did, he was hit with one thought: you were beautiful.

He cursed himself for recognizing it, for letting the thought echo in his head. You were a threat, he reminded himself, a stranger in his home. He was confused, disoriented, and yet you stood in front of him, presence dripping in a calm ease. You stared at him with a look he couldn’t discern, not when his mind was a muddled, confused, blurry mess. But the way you were looking, so expectant, so patient– it made him slightly nauseated.

“Who are you?” Azriel’s voice was loud and rough. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, a twitch in his wings, still extended wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Azriel scrambled for words, his head aching as he searched it for answers, for explanations. His confusion exposed him in a way that made him feel naked— at risk. None of it was right, not him standing over his own body, not him conversing with, what might possibly be, the most gorgeous female he’d ever seen, not the empty room around him. Was he dreaming? Was he being tortured?

You slowly lifted your hands in defense, remaining careful of how fast your movements were. “I’m not here to cause you any harm.”

A skeptical expression crossed his face. “Then why are you here?” He eyed you intently, his gaze scanning you as if sizing up a potential threat. His outstretched hand stayed unmoving, still on the defense. But you recognized a subtle shift in his posture, a slight calm flickering in his moving eyes.

Azriel was always the more difficult of the three to soothe. You had noticed this the last time, his wings shredded with ash arrows, his blood coating the floors beneath him. Even then, even through the exhaustion that bled into his unconscious mind– into his soul– he had fought you, acknowledged you with apprehension and distrust. You never blamed him, though. You understood. You would be fearful, confused, and defensive, too.

“I’m here to help you.”

Your voice was lower now than it was before. A soft murmur. He recognized the cadence, the words. It felt like a voice he’d heard before but couldn’t quite place.

"Who are you?" Azriel demanded as he frantically looked between his own body and you. He felt a sense of fear he wasn't accustomed to, a worry that either body would vanish were he to take his eyes away for too long. "What the hell is going on?"

You took a step forward as he turned to look upon his body, reaching an arm out to touch him, to begin to explain, when his head swiftly turned back to you. Azriel recoiled, taking a step away from you, his eyes scanning you again— wide and wild. There was a rustle as his wings mirrored his actions, still extended aggressively, unmoving. You quickly stilled, realizing your mistake of initiating contact too soon. Your brows furrowed as you gave him an apologetic smile. You took a step back, settling to stand a bit further from him than you were before.

Hazel eyes watched your every movement, his body tense as you fixed yourself into place, standing in front of him with the small smile still on your face– it reeked of pity, he thought. It didn’t feel right. No matter where he was, or who you were, he wasn’t supposed to be this off guard, this jumpy.

His face fell as the realization hit him: he couldn't feel them. His companions, his protectors, his shadows– there were no whisperings in his ear, no cool trail as they snaked around his body. He hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by you, by his lifeless form. The absence of his shadows explained this sudden vulnerability– he was receiving no information on you. No intel about who you were, what weapons you may have, who was around to witness. As quick as the realization settled into his stomach, Azriel called out to them. He dropped one of his hands lower as if to make it easier for them to find him, to reach him, but nothing came. No cool touch on his body, no whispers. Instead, silence enveloped him as he took notice of motion around him, black wisps of smoke scattered throughout the room.

You watched his movements, watched as he examined himself, as he craned his head to scan his body. "They can sense you," you explained, gesturing towards the shadows that seemed to be bouncing around, slithering on the ground like they were blind and confused. Some rested on his unmoving body, some around his feet, but not quite on him. His wings began to retract and slump as Azriel’s face slightly fell, his mouth open and brows furrowed.

He looked down, observing his hands tentatively. “Why aren’t they with me?” Azriel asked. His voice was slightly strained. He didn’t look up at you, his vision trained to his scarred hands, to the floor below him where shadows circled aimlessly. He felt an ache in his heart, a longing to be covered again, to be with them, to be protected. He felt too naked, stripped of every layer that protected him— no shadows, no intel, bare before you.

“Your shadows are sentient,” you explained, “they don’t die with you.”

His head snapped up, hazel eyes meeting yours instantly, widened with disbelief. "Die?" he repeated, his eyes scanning yours. "What do you mean die?"

In a slight moment of shock, Azriel took an unconscious step forward. His body tensed, and you watched as the rest of his frame followed suit, the muscles in his jaw clenching. There was an evident unease in his face, tension etched into his features.

You maintained a stillness, a deliberate choice not to intrude further, to remain respectful of his boundaries. Your gaze held a mixture of understanding and patience, offering him a moment to process the information without feeling overwhelmed. Then, you softly asked, “Where do you think you are, Azriel?”

His name sounded foreign on your tongue but he didn’t have the space to acknowledge it, instead rummaging through his other thoughts. He blinked, taking in your question. A dull ache in his head creeped up on him, but your voice soothed it instantly— soft, comforting.

"I... I don't know," he stammered, voice low and quiet, void of any assertion it held moments prior. His eyes darted back and forth, attempting to piece together fragments of memory. His wings now mirrored his defeated state– limp and listless, curled in, the membrane hanging dejectedly.

Sensing his growing distress, you adjusted your approach. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Your voice, smooth like honey and warm like tea, flowed through him. For a moment, he allowed it to sit, allowed it to spread, letting it calm him in a way that he was fighting before.

"I…" Azriel muttered to himself. Slowly, fragments of memory began to resurface, faint but discernible. He looked back at his body, examining it as if trying to find the missing pieces, memories popping up like distant echoes, flashing in the corners of his brain. The ache was back, slowly spreading throughout his head. “I was fighting.”

He looked back over his shoulder, twisting his body to peer at where his physical body lay in the bed, the colors of the room now registering with a strange clarity. Tandem disembodied flashbacks surged through his mind—flashes of fighting, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, and the cacophony of clashing weapons. Each image hit him like a sudden jolt, disjointed and chaotic.

In one fragment, he could almost feel the weight of a blade in his hand, the strain of muscles as he swung it in a frenzied dance. Another flash brought back the distant echoes of shouted commands, the clash of metal on metal, and the acrid scent of sweat and blood lingering in the air. The blurry memories continued, each scene disconnected yet vivid in its brutality. He shivered as the ghost of each sensation trailed his body, a twitch in his wings as he recalled the injuries they had sustained.

Then, a searing pain in his head, a sharp and sudden ache that brought him to his knees in his mind's eye. The pain lingered in his skull like a phantom sensation, and with it, a realization began to form. His eyes met yours with a cold, distant understanding. A wave of sadness hit you.

"I'm dead,” he stated, his voice quiet, “Aren't I?"

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Not yet," you clarified, taking a step to move closer, the movement slow and deliberate. "You're in between."

"In between? In between where?"

You took a moment to look at him, your gaze lingering on his face. His eyes were darker now, troubled, as he stared back at you. “Your body,” You started, gesturing towards his sleeping form to guide his attention back to where it lay, “It's still fighting.”

Azriel nodded slowly, taking in each of your words, digesting them, letting them sit. There was a shift in his expression—a solemn understanding replacing the earlier confusion he once held. You continued.

"Madja, she's a brilliant healer. She has brought back many from this same brink."

When Azriel looked back at you, you shifted your focus to his head, motioning with a gentle sweep of your hand, then directed your fingers towards your own temple. "And your mind," You said, "it's fighting too."

Azriel frowned. He was a soldier. He sustained many injuries before, had fought in battles that left him with gaping wounds, with his organs rearranged. This was nothing new— so why was this different? Had he always been out this long?

You watched him intently, observing the way his thoughts seemed to churn beneath the surface, how he began to blink rapidly, how his brow furrowed. He was still confused– you could feel it. You let out a small sigh, running your eyes across his face.

"The injury you sustained was worse than any you've ever had," you explained, your voice steady. Flashes of his memories interjected—him fighting, soaring into the air only to be shot down, engaging in combat once again, his head colliding with something hard, the sickening sound of a crunch. "Not only to your body but to your head. You cracked your skull open completely, Azriel. The trauma of the infliction itself… well, let's say it damaged your brain. Heavily."

As Azriel looked directly at you, his hazel eyes glazed over with deep contemplation. He nodded absentmindedly, "Okay.” He said. He looked over to his unmoving form again.

With his attention fixated on his proper body, you took the time to observe him more closely, scanning his face and his body, taking in the details of his fighting leathers. Azriel was a vision— your favorite male to visit, your favorite soul to see. You can’t remember the first time you saw him, the first time he laid on a bed, a grasp away from death. You suppose it was centuries ago, when he first became a soldier. But even then, time escaped you.

Your gaze wandered to the wings adorning his back, now freed from their earlier alarmed nature, not fully extended but not fully kept back. You thought back to their wide and impressive extended form, the membrane between each robust wing bearing a faint sheen, casting a subtle shimmer in the ambient light. Even now they were mesmerizing– the leathery texture, the powerful structure, the way they naturally framed his form. The tips of the expansive wings curved slightly, giving Azriel an imposing yet graceful appearance, even among current circumstances. Azriel's voice brought you back to attention.

"So I'm stuck here?"

"For now." You responded, your voice carrying a gentle reassurance. The look on his face, only beginning to finally process his reality, pushed you to postpone any further explanations. Time was not an issue, not now.

"And you are..." Azriel's voice trailed off.

"Y/n," you answered.

He let the name sink in, repeating it with a slow, deliberate pace, "Y/n."

“Yes.” You nodded.

“And you’re here to help me.”

Another nod. “Yes.”

He rolled his shoulders as something that resembled a skeptical scowl slowly made its way through his face. Then, Azriel squinted his eyes at you. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

You couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped you, echoing softly in the room. The sound made Azriel jolt back slightly, caught off guard. Dying it down with a small, genuine smile on your face, you caught Azriel’s uncomfortable gaze, his wings now extended slightly, the corners of his lips downturned in confusion.

"I’m- I’m sorry,” You said, clearing your throat. “It's just... you are curious this time around.”

Azriel's hazel eyes widened in shock, his brows furrowing in confusion. "This– this time around?” His eyes rapidly scanned your face with a deep intensity. Faintly, he recalled your earlier comment, the laugh when you said that he reacted the same way every time. “Have we met before?"

You offered him a small smile as you said, "Many times.”

Azriel let out a deep breath. Here he stood, suspended between life and something else entirely, facing someone who knew him in a way that he couldn’t even remember. A sense of anxiety filled his chest. He wished for his shadows now, for them to wrap themselves around his arms, around his neck, to offer some calm. He searched you for any sign of deception, looked at the way your eyes followed him, the stance that you held. But all he found was a sense of sincerity and tenderness.

“Your family tends to face death a lot more than others in Prythian,” you explained, “You and your brothers especially."

At the mention of his brothers, Azriel's heart dropped, a heaviness settling in his chest. Thoughts of his family rushed in—wondering who had found him, the worry that surely gripped them. He straightened up, a sense of urgency urging him to survey his surroundings. His family… His gaze moved beyond you, taking in the details of the room. It was his guest suite in the River House, the room he’d stay in when he came to visit Rhysand and Feyre, the room they would drag him into when he needed to rest or heal. It was his room. Yet, there were no sounds of people, no familiar voices—just the quiet emptiness that surrounded him, surrounded you both. Surely they would be near him, Azriel thought, Madja at the least.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, still scanning the room. He walked towards the large windows, taking in the nighttime view, gorgeous and still— mountains covered in snow, a city lit by moonlight.

“Here, it's just you," you said gently.

Azriel turned to face you once more, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. He didn’t ask for any further explanation, a sense of exhaustion heavily weighing on him. His eyes bore into yours. "And you. You exist here too.”

“I do.”

He took a step towards you, wings rustling in their position behind his back. Azriel scanned your face, hazel eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and weariness. He wasn’t afraid of you, didn’t believe you were a threat– not anymore, at least. But you were still here, in this state of existence that only he was in.

“Why?”

The question was pure curiosity, not a hint of distrust or malice within it. You observed him, noting how he seemed to have settled, the tension in his frame easing. Instead, a subtle sadness lingered, a reflection of longing. Azriel loved his family, this much you knew. He was a devoted male, devoted to serving those he loved, devoted to his position, to his duties. Of course he was missing his family. Your heart ached.

"I'm here to help," you assured, "I’m to stay while you heal, or until–"

“Until I stop…” Azriel finished the sentence, a quiet acceptance in his voice. "And then you guide me."

You were taken aback as Azriel's hazel eyes locked onto yours, a moment of realization passing between you. Usually, it was you who revealed your purpose to those you reaped, explaining the meaning of your duties, easing their worries. You blinked, your head tilting back slightly as you clasped your hands together. Azriel continued, stating with a quiet certainty, "You're a reaper."

You nodded, titling your head as you took in his face, his brows slightly knitted. “I am.”

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. In situations like these, where they were stuck between the life before and the life after, you were to leave them in peace– wait until they decided or their body decided for them. It was never intended for you to stay with them during the waiting period, to keep them company. No, this was something you felt inclined to do. You couldn’t leave Azriel if you wanted to, it felt wrong— and you didn’t want to. Not one bit.

"You weren't what I expected," Azriel admitted.

Azriel had a faint idea of your kind, of your duties. He heard accounts of near-death experiences, tales of encountering a radiant light, foggy memories and beliefs of meeting a beautiful entity—whatever that meant. He always wrote them off as distant narratives, existing in the realms of folklore and imagination. He would have never imagined something like you – something so… delicate.

Curiosity lingered in your gaze as you asked, "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," Azriel replied honestly, his head beginning to throb and ache again. A hand instinctively rose to the back of his scalp, fingers rubbing at the tension that surfaced. The ache radiated through his skull as he massaged his hairline. You recognized the discomfort with a small frown, playing with your hands as you observed him for a moment.

"Azriel,” You spoke, drawing his attention back to you, “I'm going to give you some time to process everything. Explore, think. When you're ready, and if you want to, you can find me then."

Azriel looked at you, uncertainty drawn across his features. "How will I know where you are?”

"You’ll know.” A soft smile played on your lips as you reassured him. “Trust me.”

As you left, Azriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the quiet expanse embrace him.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were right. Azriel knew exactly where to find you. How we knew, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even aware of how he got to you, how he managed to move. One moment he was wandering, taking in the quiet halls of the house, the next he was thinking of you, seeking you out— and then he was here, watching you.

It was dark out still, a fresh night breeze in the air. Azriel stood for a moment, taking in his surroundings—a small clearing nestled between two towering mountains covered in snow. The landscape was rugged, the terrain too harsh to be in the vicinity of Velaris. Somewhere beyond the borders of Illyria, he concluded. He turned his focus back to you. Draped in a simple cream-colored dress, you stood at the edge of the clearing, your silhouette softly illuminated by the glow of the full moon that hung in the sky. The moonlight painted the terrain around you with a soft, silvery hue, casting long shadows that danced across the uneven ground.

“Hi, Azriel.” The words left your mouth before you turned your head to look at him. When your eyes met his, you gave him a smile. He faltered for a moment.

“Hello… Y/n.” He said your name quietly, adding it onto his greeting tentatively, as if he was testing how it felt on his tongue. He liked it, he decided. It tasted sweet.

You turned your head back to the view in front of you, and Azriel took it as an unspoken invitation. Slowly, he found himself walking towards you, the snow crunching beneath his boots. You both stood in silence, and Azriel found a sense of calm rolling through him. Taking a deep breath, he let his wings unfurl slightly, not having noticed the tension they had been carrying, tucked tightly behind him.

Azriel turned to gaze at you. You stood still, eyes trained forward on the view before you. Your focus prompted him to take in the sight once more, bringing his attention back to the vast expanse ahead.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

It was now your turn to look at him, to observe the side of his face as he looked forward. The faint glow of the moonlight casted shadows on the contours of his face. He looked almost holy, something devout and ethereal. "You don’t recognize it?”

Your question led to a contemplative frown creasing his brow and he turned his head, taking in the soft smile on your face. “Should I?”

You turned your body fully to face him, craning your head to look up at him. There was a subtle shift in his expression as your eyes met. You nodded toward the view, a gentle encouragement.

“Look again.”

And he did.

Then, his gaze softened, a hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. Azriel's shoulders fell, a subtle release of tension, and his wings shuddered softly. "I used to come here," he said quietly, "A long time ago… I used to come here."

His eyes shifted between you and the view. You met his gaze, nodding in silent understanding, leaving a space of silence that invited him to continue talking if he desired to— if he was comfortable.

"I found it flying one night," he continued. His memories now seemed to dance in his mind, distant yet vivid, a time before Amarantha, before Koshei. A faint smile ghosted his lips. “I'd find time between missions to come here and just breathe. Now I could never validate wasting time to be here, doing nothing."

You let out a small hum. “Taking time to breathe is never a waste.”

Azriel turned to look at you. "How did you..."

"Know about this?" you finished for him. He nodded.

You smiled, the expression warm and animated. Holding your arms in front, one hand cradling each elbow, you continued, "I could feel it. Part of our duty," your voice carried a gentle honesty. "The Mother helps us to find your peace."

Azriel's gaze scanned you again, a subtle curiosity in his eyes. His attention shifted to your arms, and then to the snow-covered surroundings. "Are you cold?" he asked, concern lacing his words. Instinctively, he placed a hand on your bicep, but quickly retracted it when he registered the movement.

You kept your gaze locked with his, unfazed. "No," you replied calmly, and then added, "Neither are you."

Azriel blinked, and then he looked down at himself, his eyes scanning his own body, his arms. He wasn’t cold. He thought back to every time he had visited this place, this lookout. Being so high up made the air nippy, made the breeze cold– he always wore an extra layer. But here he stood, alongside you, and all he could feel was a sense of warmth. Interesting. It was all so interesting to him.

Azriel nodded to himself, turning to face forward again. He traced the tops of the snow-covered mountains, the valley below. You remained sideways for a moment, watching him as he processed the image before him. Another moment passed and then you, too, turned to face forward, mirroring his contemplative posture.

“So, what does it all mean?” He asked, his voice a low murmur.

You stilled, rubbing your lips together as you took in his question. You glanced to the side, his eyes still trained before him. It wasn’t the view he was talking about, you knew this. He was asking the question many before him had, wondering about the purpose of life, the answer to their troubles. You thought for a moment, pondering on what to tell him. There were no right responses here— at least, none that you thought would satisfy him. So, you answered from your heart.

“Does it have to mean something?”

Azriel’s head turned to you. “Yes,” He said, all too fast. It had to mean something. His entire existence, his suffering, every life he had taken— it had to mean something. He needed it to mean something. The agony he had lived with, the anger he wore as second skin, it was all for something… for some reason. He needed it to be. So he continued, “It has to.”

You studied him, watching the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the weight of his gaze lingering on you— there was something in his eyes, a sense of desperation, of fear. You took a deep breath, and then you offered an understanding smile.

“Then it means whatever you need it to mean.”

Azriel frowned.

“That isn’t an answer.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him for a moment before you responded. “Well,” You said, "Perhaps you asked the wrong question.”

“What do you mean?” His brows knitted together, forming a furrowed line of confusion on his forehead. Faintly, in the back of his head, an ache gnawed at him.

Facing each other now, you maintained eye contact as he looked at you intently. “Ask me what you really want to, Azriel.”

”I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a tinge of frustration in his voice, delicately mixed into the confusion that laced it.

You simply shrugged, giving him a close-mouthed smile. “You will.”

In normal circumstances, your elusive answers would have driven him crazy— he would be suspicious of you, find a sense of guilt in your failure to give proper, concrete responses. But he wasn’t in a normal circumstance, and you weren’t a threat. These were two things he knew, now, for sure. So he took your answers, as ambiguous as they were, and let them sit with him in the comfortable, cool, silence.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel found you again by the Sidra, walking along the cobblestone streets of Velaris. It was the same again, him being able to find you without so much as a second guess. It was daytime now, he noticed. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow onto the city streets, filling his body with a comfortable, familiar, warmth. A few steps ahead of him, you stilled, turning around gracefully to face him.

“Hello Azriel.”

He stopped, making a motion to look around as if he were to find someone else, another person you might be referring to. Quickly he remembered that it was just you and him in this plane, in this form of his existence. He cleared his throat.

“Y/n,” He greeted, with a small nod of his head.

He walked towards you, stopping into place in front of you, a few feet ahead. The sunlight hit your back, creating a soft, radiant glow around your silhouette– it outlined your figure, forming a subtle halo around your head that seemed to blend with the warmth of the sun. It almost looked as if the sunlight itself was embracing you, framing your presence with a touch of radiance. Azriel took a moment to admire it.

He realized seconds later that he’d stared for too long, that you were now gazing up at him expectantly, eyes scanning his face.

Azriel wasn’t much of a talker, not around strangers, and sometimes not even his own family. It was never that he didn’t have things to say— quite the opposite, really. Az thought about everything, and he thought about it all very deeply. He had too much to say, too much that he’d observed. But now, in front of you, his mind was drawing blanks. He thought back to how, not long ago, you both stood on a snowy mountain, looking into the comfortable darkness of the night. How time worked here, with you, he didn’t know. It didn’t bother him, however, not like it did when he first woke up. In fact, he had begun to enjoy it. To enjoy how free it was, how there were no rules, no expectations, no missions.

Azriel paused, his thoughts swirling, and then, almost as if caught off guard by his own words, he blurted out, "I would like to show you something."

You blinked in surprise, your mouth parting slightly as your heart seemed to skip a beat, carefully falling back into a rhythmic melody. A smile spread across your features– a broad, teeth-revealing smile. The corners of Azriel’s lips turned up in response. If you didn’t know any better, you would have described the smile as almost awkward in its delivery. Though modest, it still held a certain beauty as it graced his face. The lines that had once etched across his features seemed to smooth out, replaced by silent calm evident in the softening of his gaze, the subtle curve of that smile. Your own smile settled into a close-lipped one, and you gently pulled your bottom lip with your teeth before nodding your head.

“Lead the way, Azriel," you said, and he began walking, but not without a quick glance back at you, ensuring you were following his lead. As you walked beside him at a comfortable pace, his wings fanned out comfortably. Their immense size allowed them to extend behind you, and even though you walked at his pace, you could feel their presence above you.

The streets of Velaris unfolded before you as you walked alongside Azriel. You took it all in– the beauty of the city, its intricate architecture and vibrant atmosphere. It was always a pleasure to experience it, to breathe in its life. Even amidst the circumstances that brought you here, there was a sense of appreciation for the privilege of experiencing such a place. A sense of jealousy welled up within you. Envy for those who could lead a normal life here— those who could wake up, take a walk by the Sidra, greet their friends in the morning light. It all seemed so mundane, so easy. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to give it the air to breathe, the space to fester. You looked towards Azriel.

“Where are we going?” You asked, as you both rounded a corner into a small alleyway. The space was narrow, causing you to fall into line behind him, your vision focusing on his wings. They were beautiful before, in the nighttime glow, but seeing them in such close proximity, with the sun casting through their membranes, it was a different experience. Such beautiful, beautiful things, you thought. You ached to run your fingertips across them.

He responded over his shoulder, "Aren't you supposed to know everything?"

You sensed a slight playful tone in his voice, letting out a small laugh at his question.

"That's not how it works," you replied, "I'm not The Mother."

Azriel stopped for a moment, causing you to skitter to a stop as well. He looked back, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he uttered a simple "huh."

You suddenly felt a vulnerability settling in, an awkward awareness of yourself and your proximity to him. Before it could fully take hold, Azriel resumed walking and you followed. The alleyway began to open up to a bigger road, allowing the space for you both to begin walking side by side once more.

"Azriel,” You said, casting a glance up at him, “If you're leading me to some private area to kill me, I hate to tell you that it won't work."

He stopped, and then craned his head down to look at you. A nervous flutter danced in your chest as a sense of self-consciousness crept in. What a stupid joke to make, you thought. What if he believed you were making a crude reference to his duties as a spymaster– assuming the worst of him and his abilities? Had you inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject in an attempt at humor? You weren't friends, you reminded yourself, there was still an expectation of professionalism to uphold. Azriel looked at you for a moment. And then another.

And then, he laughed. The sound, small and amused, radiated through your chest. You awkwardly joined in, unsure if your joke had landed or if it was something else entirely.

"Why would I kill the one who will bring me peace?" he asked, his words delivered with a touch of sincerity.

You let out a breath, taking in his face, the hazel of his eyes as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, letting out another laugh, this time more certain and lighthearted. "Right, that would be foolish of you.”

You knew that Azriel was talking about your duties, about the job of a Reaper, not you specifically. But for a moment, you let yourself live in a fantasy, one where you weren't simply The Mother’s hand, where you didn’t only exist here, in a space where no one remembered you.

Azriel beckoned you to walk into the bigger street. It was only a few more steps before you stopped, taking in the sight of a quaint shop before you, adorned with small tables and chairs, surrounded by hanging plants and flowers. The window boasted a delicately hand-painted logo: Fillings & Emulsions.

Azriel took notice of the silence surrounding you both, no hum of the usual Velaris life, no laughter, no murmured distant conversations. Yet, the shop still smelled like its usual self— a sweet, buttery aroma of delicate treats and pastries. Azriel breathed it in with a smile. He opened the door, a small jingle sounding above him where a tiny bell rang. He held it open for you to enter.

Your gaze swept across the interior, taking in the small tables and the glass display filled with pastries of various shapes and colors. Behind the counter, loaves of bread sat neatly on wooden shelves.

"I like coming here, when I have the time."

Wandering around and exploring the cozy pastry shop, your gaze casually shifted towards Azriel, who remained by the doorway. "You're a dessert person?" you asked as you continued to meander through the charming space.

“Sometimes,” Azriel replied, walking further into the store. He looked around, taking in the familiar environment, the comforting decor. “But they have these sour candies that I love. They come in this little gold box-”

“You mean these?”

Now behind the counter, you turned around to face him, a small delicate gold box in your hand. The plastic cover revealed 12 small square gummies nestled inside, each in their own white wrapper. You looked up at him for confirmation. Azriel met your eyes before his gaze traveled down to your hands.

“Yes,” he breathed, a small smile forming on his lips, “Those.”

You smiled at the response, slowly making your way back around the counter, a few feet away from where he stood. You surveyed the store, eyes bouncing to the different tables and mismatched chairs. “Where do you usually sit?”

“I, uh, I don’t.” Azriel cleared his throat. “I never have the time. And when I do, I usually just head home.”

Azriel didn’t explain further, didn’t tell you his real reasons. It was true, he usually didn’t have time to sit and leisurely enjoy a box of candies. But when he did, he was often too afraid to stay in the store itself.

Azriel knew he called attention, that his wings stuck out in stark contrast against the gentle streets of the city, the quiet hum of life. He’d conditioned himself to appear smaller when walking around, to avoid direct eye contact so as to not intimidate those he passed. But even then, his presence was offputting– he’d catch citizens avoiding him, creating more distance between them or switching to the opposite side of the street. It was part of the job, he told himself. He was a large male, fully aware of how terrifying his stature could be, how frightening his own wings could be— especially when fully extended. Not even to mention his scarred hands, ones that he was sure fae could imagine easily drenched in the blood of his enemies. He wore gloves when he could. He wasn’t ashamed of them– his hands– not as much as before, but he was always acutely aware. Aware that they weren’t normal, that they drew attention, that for the comfort of others, he hid them away.

He came to, his thoughts slowly dissipating as he registered his surroundings once more, his gaze landing on you. You looked at him with a small curiosity in your eyes.

“Well,” You said, taking a glance around, “Would you like to sit now?”

“I would.” He nodded, offering a small smile that carried a touch of timidity. It wasn't like before, no uncertainty or awkwardness, but rather a gentle expression that hinted at a reserved warmth.

“Inside or outside?”

Azriel looked over his shoulder, towards the small door and the seating outside.

“Outside,” he replied.

A hum of agreement escaped your lips as you gave him a smile, taking a step to the side in order to walk around him, leading the way. The gentle jingle of the little doorbell echoed delicately as you stepped outside.

Azriel followed you, watching as you approached a small steel table. The white paint was chipped, flaking off at certain areas of the legs, but you didn’t seem to mind. The air felt crisp and clean, rays of sunshine peeking through alleyways and the tips of the stores that lined the street. Azriel took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the clarity that hung in the atmosphere, the silence. You pulled out your chair, the movement emitting a small screech as it slid against the cobblestones. Azriel walked to the table, standing opposite of you, and carefully took a seat.

As you slowly opened the box, Azriel adjusted himself in the seat. It was small, the steel back stiff and straight, making it hard for him to sit comfortably with his wings. After a small struggle, he settled into a position sitting up right, wings draping across each side of the chair. The frustration melted away as he took in his surroundings once more. He felt a certain peace he’d never felt before. A lightness in his movements, in his touch. The fresh air kissed his skin, a soft breeze whispered into his ears, threading itself through his hair.

“Is it always like this?” He asked.

You pulled the lid off the box, casting a glance up at him. Azriel’s head was turned sideways, his gaze following the curve of the streets.

“Like what?”

He looked at you, catching your eye. His face held a graceful calmness, brows slightly furrowed, and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With a soft, velvety tone, he replied, "This peaceful."

Turning to the side, you quickly scanned over the streets, registering the simple beauty that surrounded you both. Turning back to him, a tender smile played on your lips.

“Yes,” you replied, “It is.”

Azriel's response was a simple silent contemplation. Leaning back with a subtle adjustment for comfort, his wings gently folded and his gaze fixed on the table. Azriel loved Velaris. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the peace of an empty city that graced him now. Sitting with you now, at a small table by the streets, was something he was never able to do— not truly, not to this extent. He held the feeling close.

"Which are your favorites?"

Your voice pulled Azriel back to reality. He blinked, and then he looked at you.

"The green ones.”

You picked up one of the green candies nestled in white wrapping and offered it to him. Your hands briefly touched as he gently accepted the candy from you. You felt the texture of his skin against yours, the small ridges formed by the scarred tissue that extended to his fingers.

Azriel waited for it– the expected recoil from unintended contact, his body having been naturally accustomed to jump at the slightest of touches. However, this time, there was no involuntary withdrawal, no rush of icy embarrassment.

He was always so careful of his touch with Elain, acutely aware of how his hands looked against her immaculate skin. Although he refused to admit it, it bothered him deeply, how obvious it made his differences appear. Yet, that caution wasn’t found now, in his movements with you. Instead, a sense of certainty filled him, a gentle nudge to his heart, a contentedness with himself and his presence. You were beautiful, graceful, kind– and he didn’t feel guilt when touching you, didn’t feel as if he were about to taint something too beautiful for his hands.

You observed him as he stared at his hands, now resting on the table, the candy still in between his fingers. With a small movement, you gently cupped the side of one of them with your palm.

“Azriel,” You softly said, pulling his attention to you. “They didn’t feel this type of peace— didn’t feel peace at all, actually.”

Azriel stayed quiet, his gaze now trained on where your hand touched his. You pulled your hand back, and Azriel's gaze followed. Then, almost imperceptibly, the hazel of his eyes brightened. There was something about the way you spoke to him, about how kind your voice was. They didn’t feel peace. Your words rang in his head, a wave of relief passing through his body. It healed a part of him that he swore was broken, warmed his body like a summer's eve. He gave you a small smile.

You worried for a moment that you had forced thoughts onto him, ones that harbored pain and loneliness. But you felt it in your gut, a need to tell him, to let him know that they had suffered the way they deserved— that his hands were solely a part of him, a body part, natural. And from his response, it seemed as if he understood what you were saying, and most importantly, that it resonated with him the way you wished it to. You returned your attention to the sour candies before you.

"Can I ask why you like these so much?"

Azriel looked at you, a close-mouthed smile forming. His eyes crinkled a bit, and then he explained, "My mother used to give me candies just like this when I was able to see her. I never figured out how she got them. She..." He trailed off, readjusting how he was sitting. His gaze met yours as he finished, "That's why."

You could sense the sadness now evident in his face, his wings rolling in closer to his body. You let out a small breath as a sudden pang of sympathy hit you.

"Let's talk about something else," you suggested, subtly shifting the focus as you played with the edges of the candy box

Azriel leaned forward quickly, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours before either of you had the chance to register the movement. "It's alright,” he said softly. “I'd like to talk about this. I don't talk about her much.”

Your gaze lingered on his hand touching yours, on the warmth that spread through your skin at the contact. Be professional, you reminded yourself. This is not real.

With a genuine smile, you nodded, careful not to move a muscle, not wanting to disrupt the moment, to risk the chance of him retracting his hand. "Then please, I'd love to hear.”

And so he did. Azriel spoke of his mother, of growing up admiring her long hair and the way she smelled of pine and snow. He realized that he had never talked so much about himself, never shared such intimate details about his life. He realized, too, that he quite liked it. He liked talking to you. He liked you.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Days and nights had passed, Azriel was sure of it, but he was never tired, never slept. Time worked so differently here– he wasn’t aware of it passing, wasn’t aware of what he’d done the day before or even hours prior. All he was aware of was the peace in his heart, how it radiated throughout his body, relieving him of centuries worth of tension. Amidst it all was you, a companion Azriel had grown to enjoy— to adore, if he was being honest with himself.

You were kind and patient, welcoming in a way that had him opening up to you, telling you stories that he’d never dared to share with anyone else. There was no fear of being vulnerable here, with you, no threat he had to worry about, no anxiety regarding a new enemy or an evil to defeat. It was all so easy.

Azriel walked through the hallways of the House of Wind, taking in the familiar sense of home that filled it, the beauty of the sun-warmed stone. He found himself outside of his own room, staring in at the space. It was strange to think that his body, his real body, lay in another bedroom, in another home— in a form of existence that he no longer held. It was all so very strange. But he didn’t mind, not anymore.

He felt you before he heard you, a gentle breeze fanning over him, a smell of sweetness filling his nose. He turned to face you, taking in your presence, the cream dress that adorned your figure. It was there again, the subtle halo around your head, framed by faint rays of sunlight.

“Hello, Azriel.” You greeted with a large smile. He mirrored the gesture almost instantly.

“Hello, y/n.”

You took a few steps forward, craning your head to peer into the room behind him, past the doorway he stood under.

“Is this your room?”

“Yes,” He said, taking a step aside to allow for you to pass him as you entered. “One of many. My family, they have many places to call home.”

“Do you miss them?” You asked, casting a glance over your shoulder as you moved around his room, “Your family, I mean.”

Azriel stilled for a moment. He hadn’t thought of them as much as he would have expected, a part of him felt guilty for not being as heartbroken. He did miss his family– he was worried about them, about how they were doing, if his help was needed. But he didn’t feel a rush to return to his life, no nauseating need to fix his current situation, to be healed and awake.

“Yes.” He replied. He watched as you walked around, carefully taking in your surroundings. His room wasn’t very interesting— simple decorations that had already been placed before he took residence, various random books.

“Where do you disappear to?” Azriel asked.

You turned to look at him, taking him in for the first time since you entered. It was still there, you noticed, the sense of calm on his face, the evidence of a serene ease. His eyes held a lightness that you’d seen grow since he first came to you. His shoulders were relaxed, his wings comfortably fanned out behind him in an open and unhurried sprawl.

To do your job, you thought. The duties of a Reaper. Visiting souls in distress, leading them to their peace swiftly– efficiently. Not staying with them, not keeping them company. No, those were things you’d reserved for Azriel. You only hoped that The Mother wasn’t angry, that your affinity for him didn’t disrupt a delicate balance.

“As much as I enjoy our time together, I still have duties to fulfill,” You replied. “Did you miss me?”

You intended for it to be a joke, a lighthearted comment that would make him laugh– a melodic sound you had gotten used to recently, one that you savored and replayed in your mind. Yet Azriel’s eyes met yours with a serious gaze.

“Yes,” He answered, his voice sincere. “I did.”

Something in your chest fluttered and your mouth parted, a pleasant shiver rolling through your body. There was a small heat that rose to your cheeks. For a moment, you looked at the floor, composing yourself before meeting his gaze again. A genuine smile graced your lips as you softly admitted, "I missed you, too."

A few moments later, you walked along Azriel as he shared stories about his home, his brothers, and the various experiences he'd had, absorbing each narrative with hungry ears. It was a beautiful thing to see, Azriel open and laughing, the smile on his lips as he recalled favorite memories. This house, The House of Wind as Azriel had called it, was filled with life– his life. You could feel it everywhere as you walked. There was a small tug at your heart. He had a life. A beautiful, real life.

Eventually, you both stopped at a large window, the outside world spread before you in a breathtaking view. Azriel found his gaze dropping to the streets below, devoid of the usual bustling life he was used to. Faintly, a small ache hit the back of his head. He blinked it away. Then, he frowned slightly, a realization hitting him that he didn’t enjoy seeing the streets empty– that something felt missing. He turned to look at you, brows furrowed.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

The question lingered in the air for a moment, stealing the air from your lungs. Why it seemed to strike, you couldn’t tell, but it left a burn in its wake. You let out a deep breath as you looked up at Azriel.

“The Mother blessed me with a duty that is fulfilling.”

Azriel looked at you, studying your response. A sense of sadness filled him, a gentle ache in his heart at the idea, at the image of you alone, wandering the empty streets. Softly, he spoke, "That's not what I asked."

A wave of emotion washed over you. There was a sanctity to your duties, to the job that you held. You were honored to help The Mother, to be the one that granted such peace. You never knew that you could feel such longing, such a desire to be someone else, something else, until you met Azriel the first time he crossed. And then the time after. And now.

"Yes, Azriel,” you admitted, “I do.”

As you both stood in the quiet moment, the stunning view from the window still visible in your peripheral vision, you looked at Azriel. You took in his details—the tousle of his hair, the gleam in his eyes—committing the scene to memory. This was an image you wanted to save forever, one of him so close, so connected.

Azriel broke the silence with another question, "Why do you do that? Say my name so often?"

You didn’t realize that the frequency in which you used his name was noticeable. It rolled off your tongue so easily, so naturally. You thought about it for a moment, thought about the feeling you got before you said it.

"Would you prefer me to call you by something else?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as you observed Azriel's expressions. "Shadowsinger, or Spymaster?"

His response was immediate and he took a step forward as he spoke. "No," Azriel said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I-I like it."

You smiled at him. "I suppose I do it to make sure you feel seen."

A flicker of confusion crossed Azriel's face, his brows knitting together. "Seen?"

"To show you that you're not just what you do," you explained, your voice carrying a quiet sincerity. Your words trailed off softly. A beat passed, and then you added, "At least not to me."

In his hundreds of years of life, Azriel was never seen. He had been perceived, observed, even known, but never truly seen. Not like the way you looked at him, the way you allowed him to breathe, allowed him to exist as nothing more than simply Azriel.

Your gaze held seemed to see beyond the layers he had meticulously built around himself for so long, beyond the titles and responsibilities that often defined him. For the first time, he felt a sense of vulnerability mingled with relief—a feeling of being understood in a way he hadn't experienced before, in a way he never felt he deserved. A warmth spread through his body, starting from the pit of his stomach and radiating outward, enveloping him in a comforting embrace.

Without even realizing it, his hand moved towards you, lifting a strand of your hair and gently holding it between his scarred fingers. In the past, he would have hesitated to touch another person so intimately, but in this moment, there was no hesitation, no sense of reluctance, only a pull to you and you only. Was this part of what it meant to be a Reaper? He wondered, to cause such comfort in those you kept company? To make them feel like this?

He watched the way the strand of hair caught the light, twirling it between his fingers with a tenderness he had never known himself capable of. He met your eyes, slightly widened, observing him intently. With a soft smile, Azriel spoke, "I see you too, Y/n.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

His view was filled with rolling hills, vibrant in green hues, a gentle afternoon sun in the sky. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of babbling brooks and streams, a soothing melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustle of the wind through the grass, through the leaves of the trees that surrounded you. Azriel understood why Mor was so fond of her estate, why she ran off to it when she could. If it was surrounded with views like this, with such quiet life, beautiful life, he would escape to it, too. Beside him, you lay on the soft grass, your hair spread out around you like a halo.

Despite the open air, Azriel felt groggy, his eyelids heavier than they’d felt in a while. Something felt strange, a trickling sense of anxiety within his body. The wind in his hair and the air on his arms, on his wings, didn’t feel the same— it wasn’t as lively, wasn’t as strong. There was a sharp throb in the back of his head, sending a sudden wave of pain crashing over him. He grimaced and let out a low groan.

Instinctively, you jumped up at the sound, angling your body to face him, concern painting your features. Your heart dropped as you watched him bring a hand to the back of his head, brows furrowed in discomfort.

Amidst pained groans, Azriel turned to you with a frown. "I’m sorry. I just- I keep having these horrible headaches.”

You let out a small breath.

"It's because you're healing," you murmured softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. Your gaze lingered on him, sadness flickering across your features. When Azriel’s eyes met yours, you quickly blinked away any evidence of it, calling forward a gentle, unassuming, face.

His hand dropped slowly from the back of his head. "I am?" he echoed.

You extended your hand, hovering it gently over the back of his head where his hand had been moments ago. "This is where you damaged your skull," you explained softly,. "The injury that got you... Well, here. With me." Your gaze swept around the tranquil surroundings, a small, bittersweet smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Any progress in your physical body, you feel here too," you continued, your voice tender yet matter-of-fact. "The ache is calling you back."

"Back to my life," Azriel murmured, the words barely audible as they slipped from his lips, softening and fading before they fully formed.

You nodded, a lump in the back of your throat.

Azriel's expression shifted abruptly, a flash of tension replacing the settled calmness that had graced his face for quite some time now. "I don't want to go back," he said. It was a tone of voice you’d never heard from him before, a sense of desperation that didn’t fit him.

You shook your head gently. "You don't mean that.”

But Azriel remained resolute. Moving closer, he reached out, his hand coming to rest atop yours on your thigh. "I do," he insisted, his tone unwavering. “Y/n, I do.”

“Azriel,” You said sternly. “You have a life waiting for you, a long life.”

“But I’m so tired. All the time,Y/n” he admitted, his voice heavy with weariness. “And this,” he gestured around him, his eyes lingering on the rolling green hills, "this is the most at peace I’ve ever felt."

You felt a selfish impulse, a desire to indulge in his fantasy, to urge him to stay, to fight against the inevitable pull back to reality. But you knew it wasn't fair, that it wasn’t right. If you truly cared for someone, you had to be fair to them. And you cared for Azriel– cared for him in a way you’d never felt before.

“But it’s not real,” you interjected softly, leaning in, your brows furrowed, your forehead creased with concern. "This isn’t a life.This isn’t a reality— this is an in-between. Sooner or later, you will find yourself on one end.”

Azriel couldn’t understand. His heart hurt. Why weren’t you agreeing with him? Why weren’t you telling him to stay, convincing him it was worth it? This peace he felt with you, this quiet life you lived, he could stay. He would stay.

“You’re real,” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. “And right now, this...” he trailed off, his gaze sweeping over your face, "this feels real to me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling knots tightening in your stomach, a lump forming in your throat. You swallowed down the words you wanted to say, replacing the ones on your tongue with those he needed to hear.

"I'm a Reaper," you said, reminding him of the inevitable separation it entailed. His eyes, a dark, almost sad brown, met yours. “Reapers aren’t meant to stay.”

The knots in your stomach were twisting now, weaving themselves through your ribs. It was hard for you to breathe, hard for you to look at Azriel as he stared at you with such clear hurt on his face. He couldn’t stay. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the plan. Azriel was going to return to a life where he would not remember you, a life in which you didn’t exist. And you would remain here, waiting in a form of existence that had no time.

"Your family misses you," you continued, your gaze unwavering as you locked eyes with him. The knots now wrapped around your heart, squeezing. "You still have things to do. They need you. You need them."

Surely your heart was about to burst, the pressure in your chest now overwhelming– crushing you, your heartbeat erratic.

“Come with me.” Azriel said.

You let out a small breath, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his suggestion. It sounded so simple, so easy, but you knew better. It wasn't that simple, life was never that easy. You were a Reaper. He was a soul. Before you could respond, Azriel continued, his voice still gentle but earnest.

"You'll love them. And you'll love Velaris when it is filled with people. With life."

His eyes bore into you, seemingly searching for something, trying to memorize every contour of your face, every flicker of emotion that danced across your features.

"I can't," you replied softly, your heart heavy with the weight of your duty. You shook your head again as you tightened your lips for a moment. "That's not how this works.”

Azriel's demeanor softened, a small breath of defeat escaping him as his wings drooped slightly. He took in everything you said, his gaze flickering down to where his hand still rested atop yours before meeting your eyes again.

"I don’t want to leave you here," he said quietly.

Here, alone, he thought. It was true, everything was so beautiful in this form of existence. It was quiet, serene, and calm. The nights were beautiful, the days were glorious. But without you, it would have been empty. Void of life. He didn’t want that for you, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you in such a vast space. It felt wrong.

You recognized the concern in his eyes, realizing that his desperation stemmed from a place of caring– caring for you. It struck a chord within you, stirring a bittersweet pang in your chest, right beside your rapidly beating, tied up heart. Somehow, knowing that he cared for you only made you care for him more, deepening the sorrow that lingered in you, the feeling that now coursed through your veins.

Tilting your head, you offered him a soft smile, a gesture of reassurance, you hoped. "Azriel," you said gently, your voice tinged with a warmth he had grown to love, "I'll be alright. I'm happy here. It's where I belong."

It wasn’t all a lie. This was where you belonged, and you would be alright. But you weren’t sure if you’d be happy. Happiness wasn’t something you used to think of. You had a duty, a sacred, important duty, nothing else really mattered— not yourself, not your desires, not your heart.

Azriel took in your answer, swallowing the urge to fight it, to convince you further. But the pleading in your eyes, coupled with the ache in his chest and the heaviness in his stomach, left him feeling defeated. With a resigned nod, he looked at you, his voice soft but determined.

"I'll find you," he whispered.

You blinked, caught off guard by the soft declaration.

"I'll find you," Azriel said again, his tone firmer, as if he were making a promise that he intended to keep.

You understood the sentiment behind his words, recognizing the determination in his eyes. You knew, without needing to discuss it, that as a skilled spymaster, he possessed the ability to find people. Yet, deep down, you also understood the inevitable truth—that soon, he would forget you, forget the time you spent together. The thought caused a sharp ache in your heart, one you preferred not to dwell on.

So, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded and murmured, "Okay." And offered him a smile.

You sat there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air around you. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, you let the sounds of nature wash over you, grounding you in the present moment. Your gaze lingered on his face, committing every detail to memory, as if carving it into your very being. You wanted to remember this. Remember him, his touch, his care for you.

Azriel—the shadowsinger, the spymaster, a skilled killer. And then there was you—the servant of the Mother, a guide for souls, bound by duty and devotion. Death and his Reaper. What a poetic pair you made.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was time.

You had been right, when you talked him down before, sitting on the beautiful green hill. Azriel had a life to return to, a family he missed– a family that missed him. He didn’t belong here, no matter how much he wished he could. He could feel it, nestled within his ribs, a deep pull to his body.

Azriel stood in the familiar confines of the River house, his gaze fixed on the bed where his physical form lay peacefully. He took in the sight of his body, now filled with color, vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the pale, lifeless form he had been when he first awoke.

A sense of disorientation washed over him as he realized he was back here, in this room, though he couldn't recall making the conscious decision to return. From behind him, he felt your presence, a familiar energy that always seemed to embrace him with a comfortable warmth, the sweet smell in his nose.

"I didn't even realize I was coming here.” Azriel said.

Without turning, he heard your soft voice. "You never do," you replied simply, “Your body calls and you answer.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He breathed out heavily. He longed to turn and look at you, to embrace your presence, trace the features of your face. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to confront the truth that lay before him—that he wanted to go back, back to the land of the living, to his family, to embrace his life once more. But he wasn't ready for what he needed to do in order to return– wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you.

“Azriel,” You said, as you gently placed your hand on his arm. He turned to look at you, his heart skipping a beat.The faelight cast a soft glow on your body, illuminating the delicate features of your face, dancing through your hair like shimmering strands of moonlight. And there it was—the small, reassuring smile that you had offered him so many times before. The smile you had given to him when he first woke up, afraid and alarmed, in the same place he stood now.

He couldn't help but feel a flicker of happiness at the sight of your gentle smile, but just as quickly as the feeling washed over him, it was replaced by a bittersweet pang of realization. The reality of why you were here, why you were looking at him with such tender affection, why he could barely feel your touch— and why his head throbbed with searing pain. He glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping form, and then looked at you again.

“Y/n, I-”

You gently shook your head, a soft shushing sound escaping your lips as you reached out to calm him. "It's okay," you reassured him, your voice gentle but firm. "You won’t feel a thing."

But Azriel shook his head too, his expression filled with concern as he took your hands in his. "That's not what I'm worried about," he admitted quietly.

You met his gaze, taking in every detail of his face, breathing in his scent. Your gaze drifted towards his wings, so beautiful, so powerful. And then you looked back at him.

"I'll be okay."

It was a promise, not just to him, but to yourself.

Azriel's senses dulled and the pain intensified, a sense of desperation washed over him. He thought back to your conversations earlier. He never figured out how time worked here, perhaps the conversation had been days ago, even weeks. But, to him, it felt like hours prior. Maybe a day, if he was being generous. Still, his mind raced with thoughts, with things he wanted to tell you, to ask of you, things that hadn’t been there before. Ask me what you really want to, Azriel, you had said, so he did.

“Am I worthy?” His voice rang out, unsure, afraid— of the answer, of what the question meant. “Am I worthy of this life? Is… is it worth it?”

You smiled. A broad, bright, and kind smile.

You felt Azriel's hands tremble slightly in yours, guiding them to your lips. With tender reverence, you pressed a small, tender kiss upon his scarred flesh. “Yes,” you whispered, “If only you knew.”

You understood now, why The Mother always urged for a swift journey. You weren’t supposed to spend such intimate times with your souls, you weren’t supposed to grow comfortable in their presence, to learn about their favorite candies and the way their mothers smelled. You weren’t supposed to because it distracted you from your duty– and more importantly, you weren’t supposed to because it prevented you from the heartache you felt now. A piercing pain in your chest, a heaviness in your stomach.

You lifted a hand and gently placed it on his cheek. The warmth of your touch radiated through his body, sending a wave of indescribable sensation coursing through him. The world seemed to blur around him, the ringing in his ears drowning out all other sound. He squinted against the growing brightness, his head throbbing with a relentless ache. He heard your voice, soft like honey, sweet like tea, whispering in his ear in perfect clarity.

“Goodbye, Azriel.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel jolted upright, his body propelled by a surge of adrenaline that left him momentarily breathless. With a deep inhale, he struggled to steady his racing heart, his surroundings swimming into focus with agonizing slowness.

Each detail of the room seemed to materialize before him in excruciating detail, from the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the window to the faint murmur of voices drifting from the doorway. His hand instinctively went to the back of his head, a gesture born of instinct rather than any physical discomfort. Confusion furrowed his brow as he tried to recall why he had woken with such a start, where he currently was, why he laid on a bare bed, but the memory seemed frustratingly out of reach– blurry and unfocused.

As Azriel's eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the room, the door creaked open, a distant sound barely registering in his slow mind. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a blur of motion filled his vision and Cassian was upon him, bounding forward with a crushing embrace. "There's my boy!"

With a startled gasp, Azriel felt the air rush out of his lungs as Cassian's hug engulfed him, the force of the impact momentarily disorienting him further than he already was. A small, involuntary sound—a mixture of surprise and amusement—escaped his lips as he tried to regain his bearings. Azriel's gaze flickered past Cassian’s broad shoulders, to where Rhysand stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

"Okay, Cass," Rhysand said, walking towards the bed. "Let him breathe. We don’t want to give him another head injury."

Cassian released Azriel from his enthusiastic embrace, though a joyous gleam danced in his eyes as he stepped back, offering Azriel a sheepish grin. "My bad," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment, “I just missed ya.”

Rhysand stood casually, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. "If you were seeking attention, Az, you could've simply asked," he said with a wave of his hand. "No need to resort to dying for it."

The comment elicited a shocked blink from Azriel, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I- What?" he echoed. A few of his shadows slithered up his arms, wrapping themselves across his shoulders, the cool trail of them relieving tension in his upper body.

Rhysand let out a small laugh as he clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring grin. "You have a lot of catching up to do, brother," Rhysand remarked, “Let's get you back to the land of the living.”

Azriel offered a small, uncertain laugh in response, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a hesitant smile, his mind still cloudy, disoriented. Rhysand and Cassian began talking, referring to him, attempting to fill Azriel in, but he wasn’t paying attention, their voices blending into a distant hum.

Instead, Azriel's attention was drawn to an inexplicable warmth on his cheek. Instinctively, he lifted his hand and gently touched the spot, feeling the comforting heat beneath his fingertips. He frowned, trying to make sense of the sensation, but the warmth seemed to soothe his lingering disorientation, grounding him in the present moment with a sense of…ease.

Azriel's attention shifted towards the corner of the room, where a soft beam of sunlight filtered through the window. A handful of his shadows floated and twirled, their graceful movements dancing within the warm glow. He smiled, tilting his head at the sight, his hand still on his cheek. What a beautiful sight, Azriel thought. And then he was turning his attention back to his brothers, a wide smile now on his cheeks.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

y'all... imagine meeting ur soulmate but u can only see her when ur dead and cant remember her otherwise lol sucks for azriel.

#azriel #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotarfandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #acotar oneshot

2K notes · View notes

b2cute · 4 months

Note

nerd!matt x popular!gf

HCS/FICS??

NERD!MATT x POPULAR!GF

warnings: slight smut, cussing

a/n: first time doing head cannoned let’s gooo! lmk if u guys want any more and reminder that requests are open!

sfw:

• you guys for sure met each other in the school library. you were looking at books for an upcoming project and matt sat alone, during lunch

• you thought he was cute, instantly recognizing him from your class, and asked him for help to which his cheeks grew red, but agreed anyway

•the more you went over to matt’s house, the closer you guys got, eventually meeting his brothers and going on dates

•one time matt forgot his wallet when out at dairy queen and insisted on making up for it by kissing you until you forgave him, you were never upset and loved treating him, but his kisses were so innocent and sweet, so you acted upset

• matt loves teaching you new concepts in any subject, especially all curled up by your side. he loves when your sitting on the beanbag in his bedroom and he’s curled up on your side, glasses slightly tilted down, and a textbook in his hand

•matt’s favorite treat is seeing you do good on a test, it reminds him of how capable you are and feels as if he too got an A

•when around your friends, matt gets nervous that everyone will laugh at him, the way he dresses, and how he stutters, but you always reassure him with a quick “don’t worry, baby, anything happens i’m here to stop it okay?” your reassurance calms him down as his hand creeps up to yours, instantly interlocking them

•matt was completely wrong, your friends absolutely loving him. the guys teaching him how to properly take shots, and even showing how to smoke without coughing, all of them clicking even though they had nothing in common

•the girls loved the shyness and softer side of matt, the way he follows you around, and gets too nervous to make convo with another girl, afraid of upsetting you which you don’t mind. they enjoy having sleepovers with you and seeing the way your smile glows and your screen lights up with matt’s phone across the screen

•you got along with nick and chris as well, both of them teaching you how to tell them apart, and going out with you and matt occasionally. chris loved that you played video games, running the craziest match of whatever game is trending. nick enjoyed sharing a similar music taste, going to concerts together and sleeping over together, matt of course getting upset that your not with him

nsfw:

•begs for a release after studying all day. you guys managed to throw the books aside and have some fun. matt sits on the edge of your desk chair, you on your knees sucking and jerking his cock. “p-please y/n i’ve been good”

•gets shy when wanting to learn how to eat you out did the first time. he doesn’t know how to ask you without making it weird, so he asks as a math equation with the answer being, y= u4dinner.

•matt loves when you sit on his face, especially after seeing you at school, dressed in a revealing top and shorts. his eyes never left your body, leaving his hard in the school bathroom to jerk off to your memory. he will hook his arms around your thighs and sucks on your clot like a starved man. “just like that m-matt, so good to me mmghf”

•matt secretly loves when you let him take control. he craves your begs to cum and having you underneath him. matt’s favorite thing is the sight of your tits bouncing up and down when he’s fucking so hard into you, his glasses on the bridge of his nose and his button up halfway down.

•study session at the library when chris and nick are home quickly escalate when you steal matt’s glasses, but weirdly, it turns him on. you notice a change in his conversation and take him to the back where so one can see you guys, and ride him. “gotta stay quiet matt, c-can’t let anyone hear. you whisper but the only thing coming from matt was a string of groans

•when you’re on top of matt, he sits against the wooden headboard, holding your waist. his eyes turn to the side when he gets close, making your hands grip his chin so you can look at him “eyes on me matt, wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum”

•when a late night study sesh finally ends, matt is left exhausted, so you agree to let him sleep the night. what you didn’t expect is to wake up to his moans and cries to what looked like a wet dream. you laughed to yourself and snuck a hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, slowly pumping up and down matt’s length. his moans became louder and cries became whinier before releasing all over your sheets and hand.

•moments later matt wakes up to see your hand still covered in his release, lying on his bare chest and your leg lazily over his. your boobs were pushed together and your ass was practically out in your shorts, only making him hard again.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

masterlist

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioo @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07

665 notes · View notes

margotw10bis · 2 months

Text

The Place Before the Darkness.JJK TEASER

husband!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: angst; fluff; smut; attempt of a thriller

Words: ?

Synopsis: It was love at first sight with your husband but when you find a secret phone in Jungkook's office, everything shatters as you suspect him to have an affair. However, maybe he has deeper secrets...

Warnings: none for the teaser

4 Years Ago

You've decided to relax at the hotel while the others went scuba diving.The bar of the hotel is great, just like the rest of the facilities, especially to forget how awfully lonely you are while your friend is getting married.

Yet, the relaxing time you were expecting is fading away when a man takes the seat next to yours at the bar. Your breath hitches because damn! He looks good. You are not sure you’ve ever seen a man this handsome. He is tall and his black hair is shining. He looks casual with his Hawaiian shirt and his shorts.

You’re having a hard time not staring at him but what can you say? It’s not easy taking your eyes off of him. He is attractive, too attractive.

"No scuba diving?" He asks you

You are surprised — it’s an understatement — because how the hell does he know that?! But you can’t say anything when you meet his eyes. They are so black, it’s intimidating but there is a sparkle of playfulness in them. This man is a paradox: all seems mysterious and comfortable at the same time; cold and warm; distant and kind. However, a weird feeling embraces you, just like you’ve known him all your life. Is it… love at first sight? You’ve read about it, you’ve seen it in movies but experiencing it… Wow, it’s an all other level.

"I saw you and your group of friends yesterday at the restaurant, and this morning, I spotted them heading to the boats" He explains — your shock must have been well visible

"You have a great memory to remember so much about strangers" You joke

“Selective memory in fact” He corrects with a oh-so-charming smile and you literally feel your heart melt and your cheeks burn “And I’m particularly attentive to beautiful women"

This sentence could make you ill-at-ease, it’s such a playboy thing. But the way he is sipping on his fresh beer so casually and his eyes… So honest.

"Can I invite you for diner?" He asks and you have to pinch your arm to make sure you are not dreaming

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Can I call you back?” You ask through the phone but actually don’t wait for any answer and just hang up

You were searching some documents for the assurance in your husband’s office when you found it. A phone. At first, you tried to look for some rational explanations of why your husband would hide a phone in his desk.

The latest text, from yesterday, was an address. A hotel address. It was an appointment for tomorrow. Your heart sunk as you went through the convo: over and over again, the same hotel room with different dates and hours. For four months.

So this is it. Your husband is cheating on you. You can’t stop your crying because the pain in your chest is just unbearable. You thought that Jungkook was the love of your life when you married him three years ago. And even now, with your broken heart, you still believe he is. You haven’t thought about living without him, it can’t be possible.

When you hear the front door and your husband asking if you’re home, your sobbing gets lourder and you have to put your hand on your mouth to mutter it. The steps you know so well — just like you thought you knew your husband so well — are getting closer and closer. When he pushed the door, he didn’t think he would find you crying in his leather chair. The biggest tears he has seen since he knows you.

“What’s going on?" He hastily asks you, panicked that you might be hurt

And you are indeed. You are feeling so much pain that you wonder how your heart hasn’t stop beating of how squeezed it has become.

Once again, your husband frowns but only a second. Because his big does eyes widen at the sight of his secret device in your shaky hand. All his blood is drained from his face, making his skin look pale. He gulps but his throat feels as dry as a desert.

“Y/N, I swear, it’s not what you think” He starts but his voice is already broken

“So you don’t go to those rendezvous in that hotel?” You ask

Your voice has some hope in it, like you still think there is a tiny chance that your husband is not cheating on you. But a single glance at him and at his guilty face is enough to definitely break this hope.

636 notes · View notes

alyrasturnz · 2 months

Note

Hiii

I sent in 5 requests in like a week so sorry about that but i have another one if you dont mind

I just really wanna see matt with a super feminine reader! And can you add short little descriptions under the scenarios? Like a convo and such

Thank you<3

HIS PRINCESS

❐ summary » y/n's delicate softness and effortless grace have an almost magical ability to draw out a tender, vulnerable side in matt, a side he keeps hidden from the rest of the world. he finds her femininity not just enchanting, but profoundly captivating, often going to great lengths to ensure she feels cherished and adored, as if her presence alone brings light into his life.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » headcanons with little descriptions in them, nsfw at the bottom

❐ a/n && w/c » this is so cute! • 3.61k

⟡ SFW

┆ bf!matt who, upon catching the first whiff of your vanilla perfume, feels an immediate sense of warmth and familiarity, as if enveloped in a comforting embrace.

» "hi, matt!" you exclaim, a radiant smile lighting up your face as you step through the door. with a graceful yet casual motion, you let your pink purse slip from your arms, allowing it to land gently on the couch, its vibrant color a stark contrast against the muted tones of the room.

"hey, angel," he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. as you wrap your arms around his neck, his hands glide down to encircle your waist, drawing you into a warm, enveloping embrace.

he immediately catches a whiff of your vanilla perfume, the sweet, intoxicating scent weaving its way into his senses. it creates a heady haze, blurring the lines between reality and the dreamlike quality of the moment, leaving him momentarily lost in your presence.

he finds himself instinctively burying his face into your neck, his lips trailing a series of soft kisses along your skin. your giggles, light and melodic, ripple through the air, adding a layer of enchantment to the intimate moment, as if the world outside has faded away entirely.

"matt! that tickles," you manage to say between giggles, your voice light and breathless. as he continues to plant more kisses onto your neck, you squirm slightly, a playful plea escaping your lips, "stopppp."

"i can't! you just smell so good," he murmurs into your neck, his warm breath fanning across your soft skin. the sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but giggle, the sound mingling with the intimate atmosphere.

┆ bf!matt who finds himself enchanted by your unwavering dedication to a wardrobe of pink and bows, seeing in you a vision of timeless elegance and charm.

» matt's soft chuckle dances through the room, filling it with warmth and light as he leans against the doorway, arms crossed casually. his eyes follow your every move, soaking in the sight of you twirling in front of the mirror. "weren't you just wearing that dress last night, petal?" he asks, a playful glint in his eye, his smile widening as he waits for your response.

you giggle, the sound light and musical, and shake your head with a playful sway. "no, matt, this one is completely different!" you exclaim, a twinkle of excitement in your eyes. "the dress i wore last night was a soft blush pink, made of silk with delicate bows adorning the sleeves. this one, however, is a rich rose pink chiffon, with these cute little bows dancing along the hemline."

matt raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued but a hint of confusion still lingering in his expression. "uh-huh," he murmurs, drawing out the sound as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "and what else?"

"well," you continue, your eyes sparkling with a fervent enthusiasm that radiates from within, illuminating your entire expression with a vibrant energy, "the dress from last night had a subtle sheen to it, while this one has a matte finish. the shade of pink is also different—this one is a bit deeper and richer. plus, the floral pattern on this dress is more intricate, with tiny embroidered flowers, whereas the other one was plain."

matt nods, his expression a blend of intrigue and contemplation as he tries to keep up with your detailed explanation. "and the designer?" he inquires, his voice tinged with curiosity, as if seeking to uncover yet another layer of the story behind your dress.

"oh, this one is from that boutique designer i love, the one who always adds those tiny, intricate details. the other dress was from a different brand, more mainstream. see the difference in the craftsmanship?" you explain, your passion evident in every word, as your hands gesture animatedly, tracing the imaginary lines of the delicate embroidery, your eyes gleaming with a deep appreciation for the artistry involved.

matt stands there, dumbfounded, his eyes widening as he tries to process all the information. he runs a hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "i see," he says, smiling warmly as he finally meets your gaze. "i love how much you know about these things. you always amaze me." his voice carries a tone of genuine admiration, and he takes a small step closer, as if drawn by your infectious enthusiasm.

you smile back, feeling a warm glow of affection spreading through you. your eyes soften as you look at him, your heart swelling with appreciation. "thanks, matt. it means a lot that you listen," you say, your voice carrying the weight of your gratitude, as you gently place a hand on his arm, the connection between you two deepening in that moment.

"i may not understand all the details, but i love hearing you talk about what you love," he replies, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest as he pulls you into a gentle hug. "you make everything sound so fascinating." his arms wrap around you warmly, his embrace conveying a depth of support and affection that words alone cannot capture.

you rest your head on his chest, feeling content as you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "you're the best, matt," you murmur softly, your voice filled with warmth and gratitude, as a serene smile spreads across your face, savoring the comfort and safety of the moment.

he kisses the top of your head tenderly, his lips lingering for a moment. "only because i have the best by my side," he whispers, his voice imbued with a profound sincerity that makes your heart flutter.

he knew that he didn't understand the intricacies of what you were saying, but that didn't deter him. he tried earnestly, captivated not by the content but by the melody of your sweet voice and the way your eyes sparkled with boundless enthusiasm. his heart swelled with admiration as he watched you, utterly enchanted by your passion.

┆ bf!matt who, with genuine admiration, joins you in your pilates practice, eager to witness the grace and poise with which you move, embodying the essence of a pilates princess.

» the sunlight filtered through matt’s eyelids, gently coaxing him from his slumber. he blinked, the morning light casting a warm glow across the room. turning his head, he noticed the curtains had been drawn, allowing the golden rays to spill in unabated.

as his eyes adjusted, he instinctively reached out to the side, expecting to find you there. instead, his hand met cool, empty sheets. furrowing his eyebrows, a sense of confusion washed over him. the absence of your familiar presence left a void, and he couldn't help but wonder where you had gone.

he sat up, letting out a soft huff as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. with a reluctant stretch, he rose to his feet, each step carrying the weight of his lingering sleepiness. he trudged out of his room, the wooden floor cool beneath his bare feet, and made his way into the kitchen.

you were in the kitchen, meticulously filling your pink stanley tumbler, the vibrant hue matching your pink lululemon workout set. the morning light danced off the surfaces, casting a soft glow on your focused expression as you prepared for the day ahead.

"angel?" he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep as he wraps his arms around your waist. he buries his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling the comforting vanilla scent that lingers on your skin. "come back to bed with me," he murmurs, his words a gentle plea.

“i can't. i have pilates today, remember?” you say with a soft chuckle, your voice tinged with gentle amusement. as you speak, you deftly squeeze a lemon into your pink stanley, the citrusy aroma mingling with the air, adding a refreshing zest to the morning.

he sighs dramatically, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “oh right. you're a pilates princess,” he says, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as he gives you a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “how could i possibly forget?”

you laugh, shaking your head with a mix of amusement and determination. “someone's got to keep in shape around here,” you reply, your eyes sparkling with a hint of playful challenge.

he grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “well, perhaps this prince can accompany his princess to pilates today. what do you say?” he asks, his tone laced with playful curiosity.

you raise an eyebrow, surprise flickering across your features. “you want to come to pilates with me?” you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“why not?” he replies, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “besides, someone’s got to keep an eye on you and ensure you don’t outshine everyone else,” he adds with a playful glint in his eyes.

you giggle, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. “alright, but don't say i didn't warn you. it's not as easy as it looks,” you say, a playful challenge dancing in your eyes.

“i'm up for the challenge,” he says confidently, grabbing his water bottle with a determined glint in his eyes. “let's do this, princess.”

⟡ NSFW

┆ bf!matt who, adores seeing you in your pink lacy lingerie, his eyes darkening with desire as he takes in every delicate detail, knowing exactly how to make you feel both cherished and desired.

» matt was captivated by the sight of you in your pink lacy lingerie, his eyes darkening with an intense, almost primal desire as he absorbed every intricate detail. with each step he took closer, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. his fingers, feather-light and deliberate, traced the delicate patterns of the lace, sending electrifying shivers cascading down your spine.

"you look absolutely stunning," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky whisper filled with raw emotion, each word dripping with unspoken longing and admiration.

his hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. he knows exactly how to make you feel both cherished and desired, his touch gentle yet passionate, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. as he leans in, his lips brush against your ear, whispering sweet nothings that make your heart race and your knees weak.

matt's eyes never leave yours, filled with a mix of adoration and longing. his hands slide down your back, fingers tracing every curve with a possessive touch. "you have no idea how much i love seeing you like this," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through your entire body.

he guides you gently to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you feel every ounce of his affection. as he lays you down, his lips find yours in a kiss that is both tender and fervent, conveying all the emotions he can't put into words. his touch is a perfect balance of softness and intensity, making you feel both cherished and desired in a way that only he can.

┆ bf!matt who, can't keep his hands off you, tracing the curves of your body through your soft, feminine outfits, his touch sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within.

» matt can't seem to keep his hands off you, his fingers dancing along the curves of your body through the soft, delicate fabric of your feminine outfits. his touch is like a gentle caress, each stroke sending a cascade of shivers down your spine and igniting a smoldering fire deep within you.

the way his hands move, so deliberate and tender, feels like he's tracing a map only he can read, each touch leaving a trail of desire that lingers long after.

"you drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice a deep, husky whisper that reverberates through you. his fingers explore every inch of your body with a tantalizing slowness, as if he's savoring each moment, each touch igniting an electric pulse that courses through your veins.

"matt," you whisper, your voice trembling with the heat of his touch, "you know exactly what you're doing to me." your words are laced with a mix of yearning and surrender, each syllable a testament to the power he holds over you, his every movement orchestrating a symphony of desire that leaves you breathless.

he grins, his eyes darkening with an insatiable desire. "i can't help it. you're absolutely irresistible," he murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper. his hands slide down your body with an agonizing slowness, each movement deliberate, making you gasp. "i love the way you react to my touch," he says, his voice thick with passion, each word dripping with intensity.

"and i love the way you make me feel," you reply, your breath catching in your throat as his hands continue their tantalizing journey. each touch sends ripples of sensation through you, your voice trembling with the intensity of the emotions he evokes.

┆ bf!matt who, leans in close to whisper all the naughty things he wants to do to you, his breath hot against your ear, making your heart race and your body ache with anticipation.

» as you sit at the dinner table surrounded by friends, the evening's chatter and laughter form a comforting backdrop. matt leans in close, his breath warm against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"you know," he whispers, his voice a low, husky murmur that seems to resonate deep within you, "i can't stop thinking about how stunning you look in that dress. it hugs your curves in all the right places. i wonder if it would look just as good on my bedroom floor."

your pulse quickens, and a flush spreads across your skin, a telltale sign of the tumultuous emotions stirring within you. "matt," you murmur, your voice trembling despite your efforts to maintain composure, "we're at dinner with our friends."

the words barely escape your lips, laden with a mixture of caution and yearning. his proximity, the warmth of his breath, and the intensity of his gaze create a charged atmosphere, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the magnetic pull between you.

you struggle to anchor yourself in the present, aware of the eyes and ears surrounding you, yet the allure of his whispered promises tugs at the edges of your resolve.

he smirks, his fingers lightly tracing a tantalizing path along your thigh under the table, each touch sending ripples of electricity through your body. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a velvet whisper laced with desire, "but i can't help it. the way you did your hair tonight, it's like you're teasing me."

his eyes darken, filled with a raw, unspoken hunger. "i just wanna pull it while i ruin you from behind," he continues, the words dripping with a promise of unrestrained passion. the intensity of his gaze and the deliberate, teasing movements of his fingers blur the lines between restraint and abandon, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.

a shiver runs down your spine, your body instinctively reacting to the magnetic pull of his words. "matt," you whisper, your voice barely steady, "you're making it really hard to focus on anything else."

his eyes darken with desire, and he leans in even closer, his breath warm against your ear. "and those shoes," he continues, his voice a low, seductive murmur, "they make your legs look incredible."

the words hang in the air, each syllable charged with intention. "i can't wait to have them wrapped around me later," he adds, the promise in his voice sending a thrill through your veins.

your breath catches, and you bite your lip to stifle a gasp, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. "matt, you're impossible," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and desire.

the heat between you intensifies, a palpable force that seems to draw you closer with every passing second. your heart races, each beat echoing the unspoken tension that fills the space between you.

he grins, clearly reveling in the effect he's having on you. "and you, my angel, are irresistible," he replies, his voice a symphony of raw passion. "i can't wait to show you just how much you drive me wild once we're alone."

his words, dripping with fervor, wrap around you like a velvet embrace, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. the intensity in his eyes mirrors the fire in his voice, creating a magnetic pull that leaves you breathless.

┆ bf!matt who, tells you that you taste like vanilla, his words sending a rush of warmth through you, making you feel both sweet and irresistible.

» matt's lips graze your skin with a feather-light touch, his breath a warm, tantalizing caress that sends shivers down your spine. "you taste like vanilla," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive whisper that seems to wrap around you like a velvet ribbon. the words seep into your very being, sending a rush of warmth through you, making you feel both sweet and utterly irresistible, as if you were the most delectable secret he had ever uncovered.

he connected his lips to your core once more, each movement deliberate and reverent. the sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. his tongue expertly navigated the delicate terrain between your folds, each lap igniting a constellation of stars behind your closed eyelids, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

“s-shit!” you stammer, your voice trembling as your fingers clutch the sheets with a desperate intensity, knuckles whitening as you struggle to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"so sweet, so perfect," he continues, his voice dripping with raw desire. his eyes lock onto yours, a deep hunger burning within them that makes your heart race uncontrollably. every touch, every whispered word, seems to stoke the flames of passion within you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more, as if you were caught in an unending, intoxicating dance of desire.

"i could get lost in you," he breathes, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that sends shivers down your spine. "the way you taste, the way you feel... it's like nothing else." the intensity of his gaze, coupled with the raw passion in his voice, creates a heady mix that leaves you trembling with anticipation, as if you were standing on the edge of an abyss, ready to dive into the depths of an uncharted, intoxicating world.

"you make me crave you in ways I can't even describe," he whispers, his lips trailing down your core with a deliberate slowness that makes your breath hitch. as you arch your back, his hands glide over your skin, sending shivers through your body. feeling his tongue delve into you, a soft whine escapes your lips, mingling with the electric tension in the air. the sensation is overwhelming, each movement of his tongue drawing you deeper into a haze of desire, leaving you trembling and yearning for more.

┆ bf!matt who, lets you put little bows on his tip, smiling as he indulges your playful side, finding it both adorable and incredibly sexy.

» in the soft glow of the bedroom light, matt lies back, his chest heaving as he struggles to reclaim his breath. the aftermath of his intense release leaves him adrift in a hazy, blissful state, his mind swimming in the lingering euphoria.

his body glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, each rise and fall of his chest a testament to the depth of his recent exertion. as he sinks deeper into the mattress, his limbs feel heavy, almost weightless, as if he is floating in the serene waters of a tranquil sea.

the room is filled with a quiet, almost sacred stillness, punctuated only by the soft sounds of his labored breathing and the gentle rustle of the sheets.

you slowly lift yourself, your face previously nestled against his abdomen, your mouth once filled with the entirety of his length. the lingering warmth and taste still linger on your lips as you move, the memory of the intimate connection etched into your senses.

you decide to add a playful touch, meticulously tying a delicate bow on his tip. the ribbon contrasts strikingly against his skin, a small yet poignant symbol of your intimate connection.

despite his breathlessness, he manages a faint smile, his eyes shimmering with a blend of exhaustion and deep affection.

you carefully tie the pink material around his length, each movement deliberate and gentle, as if weaving a delicate spell. he lets out a soft whimper, the sound escaping his lips involuntarily at the sensation of the fabric brushing against his throbbing dick.

"you're... something else," he murmurs, his voice still trembling from the intensity of the moment. his words, though simple, carry a weight of awe and admiration, encapsulating the profound impact you've had on him.

you giggle softly, the sound a gentle melody in the quiet room, and lean in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "i just wanted to leave a little reminder of our fun," you whisper, your voice carrying a playful yet affectionate undertone. the kiss, light as a feather, lingers on his skin, a tangible memory of your shared intimacy.

he chuckles, his breath still uneven as he tries to steady himself. "you always know how to make things interesting," he says, his voice tinged with admiration and amusement. the chuckle, though light, carries the weight of his lingering excitement, and his words resonate with genuine appreciation for your knack for bringing unexpected delight into every moment.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr

554 notes · View notes

caelivir · 4 months

Text

haze | suna rintarou

synopsis. on nights when you doubt yourself, suna rintarou reminds you who you are.

pairing. suna rintarou x fem!reader | wc. 2.6k | genres. timeskip!suna, fwb!suna, late night convos, insecurity, comfort | warnings. sex mentioned/implied, alcohol consumption on reader’s part and a little bit on suna’s

notes. i will be linking threads from twitter that contain ongoing fundraisers for palestine, sudan, congo, and many more. donate, and if you can’t, share the hell out of it. keep in mind these links are just one of many. please continue to look out for them, continue to educate yourself, continue to spread awareness, and continue to boycott. remember, our voices matter. we have to amplify our voices for the people who can’t. the hell these people are living through cannot end if nothing is done to pressure our governments and their oppressors.

one two three four five

on the nights you can’t sleep, everything hits you. failed relationships. bad decisions. thoughts of the unknown. it all piles on top of your mind until it crushes you. such worries make the room feel suffocating, like the air was suddenly stripped out of it. it makes your throat dry up and your skin itch. sitting in such a feeling drives you insane, and as much as you’d like to stay curled up under the covers to hide, you know that you have to find a way to breathe.

carefully, and without making any drastic movements, you slip out of bed. the cold air hits your naked body, sending shivers down your spine. you find your panties somewhere on the floor and slip them on. you pull the first shirt that you see over your head, and judging by its scent, you assume it to be sunarin’s.

at the thought of him, you fix your gaze onto his side of the bed. with your presence gone, sunarin’s face is illuminated by the moonlight that shines through his curtains. your heart jumps at the sight of him.

sunarin has always been beautiful. even a fool could acknowledge that fact. but it’s moments like these where you swear that he is unparalleled to any guy you’ve ever met.

you watch as his chest rises and falls with steady breaths. he has one arm folded under his head, acting as another pillow. the blankets you share cover him from the waist down, providing you with a partial view of his well-toned body and the marks you left on him. strands of his dark-brown, nearly black hair fall over his forehead.

seeing him so peaceful brings a ghost of a smile onto your face, but it falls just as quickly. you chew your bottom lip, opting to leave the bedroom. you carefully close the door behind you so that you don’t wake up suna.

you wander into his kitchen and open his fridge. to your surprise, there’s a selection of white claws sitting on the bottom rack. sunarin is not much of an individual drinker. he’d rather enjoy it with the company of his friends. the alcohol he does have in his possession are much more potent than a hard seltzer, which isn’t what you’re really looking for. you need balance. you need something that will calm you without you having to wake up to a throbbing head in the morning. hard seltzers are what you look for in those times.

you wonder what he got them for, but you shake that thought off quickly. it’s not your business. you pull the first can you see out of its place before nudging the fridge shut with your foot.

in sunarin’s apartment, a balcony is connected to the living room, separated by a glass door. in need of fresh air, you slide it open. the balcony itself isn’t anything grand. it’s spacious enough, but suna doesn’t care to decorate it lavishly. he says there’s no point. so all there is are two wooden chairs with a tiny, circular table separating them.

you pull out the chair on the right and face it towards the railing. you seat yourself on it before cracking open the white claw before taking a sip. the alcohol part of it tastes funky but it’s bearable with the help of what you realize to be raspberry.

you take a long inhale. the cold air fills your lungs and nips at your insides, but it feels good. you stare at the night sky, counting the stars and admiring the moon that shines above you. below you, you spot two buddies supporting each other, barely able to hold the other up because of the drunken stares of their bodies. you take a swig of your drink. you catch lights from inside buildings flicker on then off, a reminder that life exists everywhere.

for a while, it distracts you. it keeps your mind at bay from the pending worries that are waiting to pounce at you. there’s only so many things you can count until you get bored. the view from sunarin’s balcony is nothing special after all.

but who are you to complain anyway? sunarin has much more in his life to make up for it. he’s got the money to see better views. he’s got a career he loves, an olympic medal, and adoring fans. sunarin’s got it all. he’s got a life one could only dream about.

your life isn’t shitty at all, but it’s nothing spectacular like suna’s. it’s perfectly average. and now that you think about it, why did he settle in an arrangement with someone as plain as you?

before you can ponder that answer, the glass door slides open. you don’t bother looking back. it’s obvious who it is; there’s only one other person in the apartment. the second wooden chair scraps against the floor as suna moves it back. you stare ahead as he effortlessly lifts the circular table and places it on the side. with one arm, he picks up the wooden chair, setting it down next to yours.

his bare arm grazes you as he sits, and you just now realize that he’s still shirtless. you eye suna, and even in his barely awake state, he’s worth ogling over. his black sweatpants sit snugly on his legs, hanging a tad bit low. without the blanket, you’re granted full access to the muscles that your middle blocker friend has spent years honing. light catches around sunarin’s neck, and you register it to be the silver chain that you bought for his birthday. god, you wish you had your phone. his fans would start frothing if they saw him like this.

“bit cold out, no?” you finally catch his eyes, half open but focused on you.

“you’ve got my shirt, babe.” sunarin’s voice is still sleep-ridden, raspy even. “plus, you’re not even wearing pants.”

you look down. he got you. “fair enough.”

there’s a brief silence before you’re speaking again. “what happened? why are you awake?”

“bed was cold.” sunarin responds, and something about the response tugs at your heartstrings, but you ignore it nonetheless and sunarin doesn’t expand on it. “what are you doing out here?”

“thinking.” you say simply.

“about what?”

“you.”

it’s easy to spot that he wasn’t expecting that. sunarin’s eyes widen, and suddenly his brain wakes up. in typical suna fashion, he wipes his shock off, replacing it with an amused smirk. “i’m flattered, babe.”

you hum, opting for another downing of the seltzer. the middle blocker’s fox eyes follow the movements. “i see you’ve found them.”

“huh?” you glance at your hand. “oh. yeah.”

“let me taste it. i’ve never tried them before.” sunarin sticks his hand toward you. you raise an eyebrow but still comply.

the olympian takes a quick swig, pondering the taste on his tongue. he makes a soft noise of satisfaction before handing the can back to you. “it’s not bad.”

“what’d you buy them for?” you question. at least, you can get an answer now.

“they’re for you.” he answers, nodding his head toward you.

you chuckle emptily. “what?”

suna shrugs. “i’ve noticed. you’re the type who wants a drink after sex, but you don’t want anything ridiculously strong, but you’re also not satisfied with the juices i have in the fridge either. so i thought, why not meet in the middle?”

“you noticed that?”

sunarin furrows his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand why it’s so surprising. “‘course i did.”

“you don’t have to, y’know?” you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

“but i want to.” sunarin holds your gaze. it makes your heart pound a bit harder. “it’ll stop you from leaving.” he continues after a moment.

“what do you mean?”

suna clamps his lips shut as if he isn’t sure if he should reveal the reason to you, yet he does anyway. “it’s… weird… when you go. and yeah, you say that you’ll come back, but it feels… lonely in the minutes that you’re gone, and i don’t like it. but now that i think about it, i really should have gone with you. why the fuck did i allow you to leave alone?”

you shrug. “it’s okay. the convenience store is just around the corner. there’s cameras everywhere. i’m still here.”

“i know that.” suna sighs, slumping in his chair with a pout. “i know but still. either way, i just don’t want you going anymore. i feel more secure when i know you’re near.”

“oh.” you breathe out, feeling your blood heat up at those words. “thanks, sunarin.”

the middle blocker’s face scrunches up. “why do you still call me that? i’ve literally been inside you. you can call me rin. it’s fine.”

you roll your eyes at the joke, but the question weighs on you. you purse your lips together in thought. “it doesn’t feel right.”

“why wouldn’t it be?” suna adjusts his position, throwing his arm around your chair. his fingers hang down, barely touching your upper arm, and he’s trained solely on you.

“i mean,” you pause to gather your line of reasoning. “rin feels a lot more intimate.”

“and we’re not already?” sunarin smirks, but it only makes you sigh.

“no. fuck, how do i say it?” you point your gaze upward, poking the inside of your cheek as you think. suna lightly traces patterns on your arm while he waits, his grayish eyes never leaving your face. “it’s a lot more special, like it should be reserved for the people who really mean something to you.”

sunarin’s eyebrows furrow when he catches onto the implication. “are you saying you don’t think you mean anything to me?”

you shrug, beginning to chew on your lower lip. your leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down. you swirl the contents of your white claw in the can before gulping more of it down. “i don’t know.” the line of formality and informality blurs and confuses you.

“(y/n). i’ve known you since high school.” sunarin reminds you.

“that doesn’t change anything.” you shake your head. “we didn’t reconnect until the twins’ birthday party six months ago.”

that seems to silence the olympian because he knows you’re right, and you let it run for minutes until your mind is gnawing at you, asking you to at least figure out where you stand with suna. “why me of all people, sunarin?”

“what?”

you gesture to the two of you. “this. our arrangement. why’d you choose me?”

“because.”

“because what? i mean, think about it,” you paint the picture for him. “models. idols. actresses. rich girls. you could have anyone you want.”

“sure, but none of them are you.” suna replies earnestly. you know he is, but a part of you is still not sold.

“but how could i possibly be better than them?” you press.

“because i trust you, (y/n). i trust you a lot more than i could ever trust them.” sunarin snaps back, causing you to blink at the outburst. he catches his tone, apologizes, and relaxes. he draws back the arm that was wrapped around your chair. “the spotlight has its perks, but it has its downsides too. it’s the same for anyone remotely famous. you have to keep your guard up at all times. if they find something to drag you for, it can ruin you and the career you’ve worked so hard to build.”

and when you don’t respond, suna ventures off into a different story. “did you know that you were the second person i consulted with about turning pro?”

“second?” you tilt your head, interested to see where this is heading.

“mhm.” he hums. “after kita, of course.”

“why?” you whisper. that seems to be the question of the night. why? why? why?

“you’re the realest person i’ve met, and the easiest to be around,” suna answers simply. “you’re reliable and honest, which is why i knew i could trust you to help me make a life-changing decision. you helped bring me into the place i am today all because you gave me a space where i could be insecure and vulnerable. i don’t need to keep my guard up when i’m around you. i can be me without any worry. you make me feel safe, (y/n). that’s why i chose you.” the middle blocker emphasizes.

you don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the beauty of sunarin’s words, or maybe a combination of both, but you tears begin to well in your eyes.

suna frowns. his fingers instinctively reach to brush off the tears that cascade down your face. “hey, shh. it’s okay. don’t cry. it’s killing me, doll.” he whispers.

sunarin caresses your face with his large, somehow soft hand. the sight of you in this state makes his heart pound and his breath hitch. your glassy eyes catch every ray of light and the moonlight emphasize your beauty in ways that he never thought possible. you are a goddess bathed in light.

“you are so beautiful.” suna whispers before he’s pressing his lips to yours.

you reciprocate it instantly, eyes fluttering shut. two loose tears breach past, sliding down your face until they meet the corners of your lips. it mixes with the raspberry alcohol on your tongue, making the shared kiss between you and suna a flavor of bittersweet and salty, but neither of you care.

before, in moments of naked intimacy, kisses with suna were hot, desperate even. they made your body weak and took away your mind’s ability to function as his mouth dominated yours. it’s a result of the chemicals in your brain chasing a high.

this kiss is different. it’s a sensation better than anything you’ve ever felt before. it’s a combination of stars forming, tidal waves crashing, and butterflies flapping their wings at mach speed. this kiss makes you feel alive. you’re hyperaware of the heat suna’s touch lights on your face and throughout your entire body. the scent of his bodywash and shampoo intoxicate you. your heart pounds in your ears. sunarin feels so good. he always has.

and somehow, for a kiss that makes you experience every sensation at once, what really stands out is the way you feel comforted. every insecurity that plagued your mind dissipates with suna. he squashes them like they don’t matter because that’s what they are — insignificant.

is this what he meant? you think. is this what safety feels like?

when sunarin finally pulls away, you mourn the loss of him against you with a minuscule pout. suna reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his face so he can brush his soft lips against your knuckles.

“(y/n).” suna’s voice draws your eyes away from the olympian’s hold on your hands. “you are perfect just the way you are. you are exactly where you need to be. don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise, alright? if not, i’ll just have to hammer it into you until you understand. literally.” suna winks.

you roll your eyes at the innuendo, but a laugh escapes your throat, and sunarin grins. “there’s the pretty girl i know. come on, let’s go to bed. i’m fuckin’ tired.”

you down the last of your raspberry seltzer before standing up, discovering sunarin’s hand reached out towards you. without a second thought, you interlock your fingers with his, and you follow behind as the middle blocker slides open the glass door once more.

when you enter suna’s bedroom, you throw away the white claw can in the trash bin by his desk. you climb back into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets over your body, and scooting closer to suna’s warmth. sunarin hums as he slips his hand under your (but really his) shirt. his arm drapes itself around your waist. while you nuzzle your head into his chest, suna presses featherlight kisses on your forehead.

“good night, sweet girl.” suna whispers.

“g’night, rin.” you murmur back, not missing the way he smiles against your skin.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #hq #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #° ᡣ𐭩 set i: fics

592 notes · View notes