#he can't rely on anyone. he wants them to *actually* be there for him when he's sick or in danger

[dennisboobs]

to be completely honest, I don't want macdennis in this finale at all. i want den's plot to stay his own. i want the gang to understand just how much they rely on dennis, and how the pressure is finally wearing him down. dennis' inability to escape these high expectations from all of them. of the responsibility that he hates so much. this has been a part of his plotlines for years, and now he can't even take a day trip to the beach without the gang calling him for dumb shit. he's expected to be there to help the gang whenever they need him, but will they be there to help him?

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim AU: (I'm fucking with the timeline)

Tim gathered evidence of Bruce being stuck in the time stream, sent it to the JL, and then fucked off to some remote place. He didn't help bring Bruce back and he never returned to Gotham.

He was done. Bruce, in this AU, was an absolute bastard to Tim (think 16th birthday but more). It was only after he got distance while chasing Bruce's ghost did he come to the realization that he didn't want to give up his newfound freedom and independence.

Sure, he was independent before, but it wasn't quite like this where he wasn't constrained by the Bats in some way. He was lonely, but he could make his own decisions without manipulation or consideration of the Bats.

Tim liked his new status quo and he'll be damned if anyone takes it from him.

So, he sent the JL the evidence and didn't look back. What they chose to do with it wasn't Tim's problem. He was right and he proved it.

[Side note: he's more successful at dodging Ra's recruiting tactics in this AU. Ra's tries, but Tim instead lures LoA agents to his side. After losing a good portion of his members, Ra's becomes more intrigued with what Tim plans to do. It's almost like Tim is an heir in training by utilizing LoA resources for his own goals. As long as Tim maintains a delicate balance of audacity and not pissing Ra's off, then Ra's leaves him alone.]

The JL, at first, ignored Tim's evidence. It wasn't until that whole zombie black lantern corpse thing, where they realized that the corpse wasn't actually Bruce or whatever, that they opened Tim's evidence.

They then realize that nobody has heard about Tim in a long fucking time. They don't even know where to find them.

Cue half the JL working to bring back Bruce while the other is trying to hunt down Tim (partly to apologize but mostly for Tim's abilities and information). This ends with them knocking on Tim's door in the middle of nowhere as he glares at them.

The JL assumes Tim has retired, but really he maintains an Oracle like presence around the world and travels on occasion to missions he needs to. Usually, he sends his agents out to do field work. He does regularly spar with them, though, to keep in shape.

Tim also assists WE virtually with Lucius until Bruce returns. He, on the side, revitalizes Drake Industries for when he inevitably has to step down from WE.

This morphs into him becoming a grumpy JL "civilian" consultant who JL members turn to when they need help with a problem or case deemed impossible (particularly when they don't or can't rely on Batman).

[thefirstlioveyou]

i hate when mike's "romantic love" for el is adored and romanticized when it's really the most anxious and unhealthy form of attachment, but his healthy and secure love for will is just seen as platonic

mike with el:

"i'm scared one day you won't need me anymore."

"but what if she doesn't need me anymore?"

"i can't lose you."

"i can't lose you again."

"i don't know how to live without you." (this is devastating.)

given the circumstances mike was put with with el in s1, his statements of love is more of rooted from trauma rather than actual romantic love. he's constantly afraid of losing her the same way he did in the last episode of s1, especially since he blames himself for it for the way he treated her.

he also feels a sense of self worth from the concept of being with a girl - a girl as cool and superhero-like as el that.... but not because it's EL. that's the problem. this sense of worth comes from being NEEDED, and el NEEDED mike to protect her (at the time of s1). THAT'S what he takes interest about their relationship. mike can't even mention one thing he likes about her that isn't about her powers in his monologue. he can't even tell will one thing when he was venting.

even acknowledged by shawn levy, the duffers and finn, mike simply feels a sense of worth when he's helping/saving someone - that's not necessarily romantic because....

and then we have el's side of this. el had fallen into the same pattern as she did in the lab when it comes to needing someone to rely on. she loses her own self-worth when she's with mike, unable to really identify herself. her "romantic love" for mike roots in a very traumatic place. she didn't even consider him in that way before he kissed her. she saw him as a caregiver (and possible family) - this is why she clings so tightly to him, it's reminiscent of her trauma in that sense. but in s3 and s4, she realizes who she is without mike (or feeling controlled by a relationship)

el's whole arc is not needing to rely on someone anymore, which is contradictory to what mike wants. the puzzle pieces aren't fitting with them!!

mike with will:

"max, dustin, lucas - they're great but they're not you."

"i asked if you wanted to be my friends ... it was the best thing i ever did."

"if anyone knows how to defeat this thing, it's will." (mike trusts will even in a dangerous situation, whereas in s3 he's more anxious for el, despite losing them both before. why? because he felt a sense of responsibility for el, not will.)

"if we both go crazy, we'll go crazy together."

"i didn't say it." "you didn't have to."

what he tells will is often more positive, and never putting himself or others down in the process. there's more trust and security.

"but what about s2? wasn't he scared to lose him?" but he never felt loss of control that season. he never held him back from anything and even insisted on things that could've been dangerous, but there was trust. even comparing his monologue in s2 vs s4, there is a sense of calmness and confidence in his words. he doesn't blabber and just keeps his words short and to the point. there isn't dramatic music build up to intensify the scene. it's intimate and genuine, not a performance.

the whole "you didn't have to" part is SOO underrated. it just proves more of what i'm saying! mike is more secure with will and they simply just get one another, whereas mike and el do not!

he also still acknowledges his other friends and how valuable they are to him, while saying will is different to him. (AND this can be backed up, unlike the s4 monologue. we can see throughout the entire show that this is true, will stands out amongst the rest of his friends to him). one of the big problems mike had in s3 was forgetting friendships and his values for the sake of having a girlfriend.

it's also evidently clear how mike acts with el vs will is very different. mike never brings up his interests with el and instead tries to play cool, tries extra hard to be funny and impress her. (pizza box glasses, the horrendous airport fit, "i like- i like presents too," his weird talking/responding patterns with el at the airport/roller rink)

but the actual mike is nerdy. he's part of the av club. he's into science projects. he's into dnd. he's into figures. literally the moment mike tried showing her his figures she did NOT gaf LMAOO (i understand her priorities lied else where but still, it's a showcase of her lack of interest in mike's hobbies). but will knows these things and takes interest in all of them. will KNOWS mike more than el does.. of course he does, they've known each other since they were 5. you're lying to yourself if you believe mike and el know each other more - they don't even know themselves with each other.

and before i end this, i wanna add this one thing:

"but, if mike and el is platonic even if mike was protective, doesn't this mean that s2 byler was platonic too?" the act of caring for someone is what's platonic. there isn't anything necessarily romantic about it, that's true. but byler is more than just what happened in s1 or s2. byler's love doesn't root from their trauma with all that's going on. mike doesn't feel this connection to will because he went missing - it's love that's grown over time even before they encountered the upside down.

byler isn't real because mike cares about will's life. byler is real because mike separates his relationship with will from his friends, his intimate eye contact, his physical contact, his gentleness, his attentive behavior to will's own behavior/absence, him literally thinking meeting will was the best thing he's ever done.

and mike is still needed by someone the way he wants. will needs him, and not for any reasons related to trauma... simply because will sees the good in mike and who he really is as a person and as a whole. mike brings the best out of will and inspires him.

their love starts from simply knowing and getting each other, whereas mike and el's only begins from unhealthy attachment and trauma on either side. THAT'S the difference. it's nothing more than mike needing to save someone.

anyway i just wanted to point out what i noticed between his dialogue w each person! it's very tough seeing what he says to el viewed as peak romance by certain people, watching his trauma being overlooked for the sake another heterosexual romance. but when he showcases actual secure behavior with another person that happens to be a gay character, they're just friends... not gay at all.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Another morsel of the Mafia bad sanses ... pretty please

After Nightmare decides you're now his, the other three skeletons become your bodyguards. They're the only ones allowed around his human. They rotate as Nightmare sees fit - some days, it could be just one of them, and some days it could be all three at once. Depends on who's available. And who Nightmare is getting jealous of

They don't tell you what they do when they're away. There's a lot they'll give you. That information is one of very few things they won't.

Killer's bodyguard days mostly involve junk food and videogames, which can be a relief when you're constantly around people who seem accustomed to exorbitant amounts of wealth. But he's also, conveniently, the only one Nightmare trusts to take you out of the mansion alone. Dust has his own agenda and is much too untrustworthy, Horror's protectiveness might cause a scene if he doesn't have another powerful skeleton around to reel him in. If you want to go on a quiet duo daytrip, Killer's your man.

Killer is honestly a pretty good friend. He knows how to make you laugh, even in your deepest slumps. He pays attention to what you like, he's never too energetic to notice the moment and slow down when you need him to. But... at the end of the day, he simply can't be trusted with your innermost thoughts. Not when he's so hard to read; not when there's so much he clearly isn't telling you. Everything could be fake. You have no idea.

Dust will spend his one-on-one days looking after you. He's very much the one who gets your innermost thoughts. You both complain in low tones to each other about your current situation, making the most of having someone else who understands. He promised he wouldn't leave you alone here. He was serious about that.

Nightmare trusts Dust with you the least. But he can literally taste how much of your stability and comfort relies on Dust's presence. He isn't happy about it, but Dust gets to play with you for now. But Nightmare has made it (violently) clear to Dust that if he ever acts on the soft & romantic feelings Nightmare can sense within him, there won't be room for mercy.

Horror really likes being your sole bodyguard for the day, because he gets to double as an in-house chef, cooking whatever you like. He loves looking after you. It's still difficult to imagine Horror as the monster people say he is; you know logically that it's true. But he's just so sweet with you. He bakes, he smiles, he follows. He tries to tell a joke but fumbles, but you laugh anyway and his whole face lights up. How can this possibly be the man from all the stories you've heard?

Nightmare is, honestly, pretty awkward when he's actually got time to be alone with you. He likes taking you to nice places, but he doesn't ever know what to say. He's not used to being flustered - and his stony face and frightening aura mean that when he's flustered he appears unamused and scary. There'll be plenty of misunderstandings where you think you're boring/offending him, but really, he's the happiest he's been in months.

Nightmare is aggravated that you grew to like the other three before him. Were they any other men, he'd simply have them killed or sent away, unwilling to share you with anyone... but as vicious as he is, he doesn't want to immediately frighten you so severely. And he can't really afford to murder all three of his top soldiers just because he's jealous.

... Nightmare's power grabs around the city have slowed almost to a halt.

Dream has noticed.

[jubileemon]

In the music video, Blitzø is represented by the Moon, while Stolas is associated with the ocean, initially walking on it before being submerged in it. This is actually very symbolic of their dynamic. The Moon controls the tides, but at the same time, it orbits around the Earth. Blitzø relies on Stolas and is drawn to the force of his power that he needs to accomplish his goals. However, Stolas is controlled by Blitzø's gravity as well, to the point of drowning in his emotions for the imp. They both profoundly affect one another.

Even the string that ties Blitzø and Stolas together is deeply symbolic. The majority is Stolas's blue, which is representing how much he's put into the relationship so far, as well as the massive amounts of feelings he's going through dealing with possibly losing Bitzø once he gives him the crystal. He has so much length to it because he's being so much more open about his feelings as well.

Meanwhile Blitzø's red is barely there because he doesn't, and possibly can't, put more into the relationship than he currently does. He has so much self-hatred that it's almost impossible for him to love anyone romantically, considering he doesn't even love himself. That and he's scared to put himself out there only to be hurt. He shows so few emotions and so his portion of string is immensely shorter. When it snaps, it all goes back to red on his end as all his trauma and repressed emotions about it flood back and envelope him in the moon once more.

Pay attention to the size of the moon. At first the moon was small, that is, these "walls" were thin or insignificant (this can be recognized from the childhood of Blitzo and Stolas, Blitzo was full of enthusiasm and hope, but now it is slowly fading away). Previously, Blitzo was more open, but after many events in his life, his walls began to increase (he was used by his father for profit, his best friend Fizzaroli suffered because of him, etc.), and eventually became huge and impenetrable (he does not share many things, not even with his own daughter, and he's afraid to trust Stolas on purpose). Even Stolas, with his tall stature, cannot compare with them. This literally shows that Blitzo can't trust anyone.

Stolas sees this and tries to break through them, but until they talk, the walls will not be possible to get through. It is precisely because this "barrier" cannot be destroyed that Stolas will give Blitzo the opportunity not to depend on him because of some kind of grimoire. The Moon's increasing size may also indicate that Blitzo is becoming a significant figure to Stolas. He wants to be with Blitzo not only physically (by type of sexual attraction), but also emotionally. In other words: Stolas fell in love with Blitzo seriously, not in childhood, when it was just sympathy, but real love, which is difficult to get rid of.

The symbolism of Blitzo as the Moon is very reflective of his and Stolas' relationship. Not only is it a callback to the fact that they mostly see each other once a month on a full moon to do “the deed”, but it it's also just a great metaphor for Blitzo as a character. Humanity has been fascinated by the Moon for a long time and tried to reach it for centuries and it was only in 1969 (relatively recently) that they managed to do it. The moon had always been this gorgeous, desirable, yet unreachable thing and that's exactly what Blitzo's love is from Stolas’ perspective.

Stolas' love for Blitzo is represented by the moon. First small and bright, something he can hold close and dear. Then larger, something harder to hold but something still fully within his grasp. Then at the end, impossibly large while also just out of reach

The moon also mirrors the power dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, at the start with Stolas holding all the power, then Stolas putting himself at Blitzø’s level when he finally tries to look deeper and see what Blitzø needs and his walls. Then the moon grows larger than Stolas as he intends to give Blitzø the crystal so he doesn’t have to depend on him anymore. And now the power in the relationship shifted towards Blitzø. Whether the relationship continues is now up to him.

[lunardragon00]

The Boy is Mine (Yunho x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

f-boy!Yunho x College student!Reader

The boy is mine Watch me take my time I can't believe my mind The boy is divine

Y/N sighed as she walked into the crowded lecture hall, clutching her books tightly to her chest. College life was a whirlwind of assignments, parties, and the occasional drama—most of which seemed to revolve around one person: Jeong Yunho.

Yunho was known across campus for his striking looks and notorious playboy reputation. With his charming smile and confident swagger, he had managed to break countless hearts, leaving a trail of love-struck students in his wake. But Y/N was different. She wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking heartbreaker get the best of her.

“Hey, Y/N!” Yunho’s voice rang out as she took her seat. She glanced up to see him leaning against a desk, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hey, Yunho,” she replied coolly, not bothering to hide her disinterest. She knew his type all too well.

“Party this weekend at Sigma house. You coming?” he asked, sliding into the seat next to her. His proximity sent a ripple of excitement through the room, but Y/N remained unfazed.

“Maybe,” she said nonchalantly, flipping open her notebook. “Depends on my workload.”

Yunho grinned. “You work too hard. You should let loose a little. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. His persistence was oddly endearing, even if she wasn’t about to give in easily. “I’m sure you would. But I’m not interested in being another notch on your belt, Yunho.”

“Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, Y/N.”

“Good,” she retorted, her smile widening. “Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson.” Yunho rolled his eyes and was about to make a retort, until the professor walked in to the room. Yunho lets out a defeated sigh and walks to his seat, leaving her on her own. 

Y/N wasn't new to his behavior. She had known him since their freshman year, which had been a little over 2 years ago. She couldn't deny that he wasn't attractive, because he was, undoubtedly so. With his fluffy brown hair, wide puppy dog eyes, to everyone he was tall, dark, and handsome. For the few interactions she'd had with him in the past, he was actually pretty fun to hang out with. To be honest, if he didn't have the reputation with women that he did, she would've gone out with him a long time ago had he asked. 

But now, things were a bit more complicated. Y/N had always been taught to not tolerate bullshit, no matter who it was coming from. She was a very head strong person, she never relied on anyone for almost anything. Some people admired her for that quality, some saw it as her down fall, which she could see it being a bad trait. So imagine her surprise when Yunho started to approach her more during the day. 

While she was used to his presence, seeing that they ran in the same social circle, she wasn't used to him pursuing her. He was good, she'll admit that. Offering to walk her to her dorm, holding her bag or books for her even if it was only one, even gifting her flowers on her birthday last month. It was sweet, but she wasn't stupid. She'd heard the stories multiple times from a multitude of people. How he'd sweep girls off their feet, sleep with them for a period of time, and then drop then and go ghost. 

As the weeks went by, Yunho’s advances continued, each more creative than the last. From surprise coffee deliveries to playful notes slipped into her textbooks, he seemed determined to win her over. And while Y/N enjoyed the attention, she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“You’re relentless,” she said one afternoon as they walked across campus. Yunho had offered to walk her to her next class, and despite her better judgment, she had agreed.

“I know what I want,” he replied, his eyes locking with hers. “And I want you, Y/N.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me get to know you,” he said, his tone sincere for once. “I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Alright,” she stopped walking and turned to face him. "prove it then. Prove to me that I'm not just another game to you." She challenged, her gaze steady. 

“I will,” he promised, a determined glint in his eyes. He reached down, trying to hold her hand but Y/N quickly turned back and continued their walk. 

"Oh come on," Yunho groaned, a light laugh escaping him. She turned around to face him again, continuing to walk backwards. "What did you expect Yunho," She laughs. "you've got to earn my affection." 

Yunho’s grin widened. “Challenge accepted.” He sped up to catch up with her. When he did, he gently nudged her shoulder with his. "Fucking tease." The sound of loud laughter echoed through the parking lot. 

Over the next few weeks, Yunho's approach shifted. Gone were the grand gestures and flashy attempts to win her over. Instead, he began to show up in the little moments, offering quiet support and genuine companionship. He listened when she talked about her day, remembered the small details she mentioned, and respected her boundaries without question. He’d leave a cup of her favorite coffee on her desk in the library with a simple note: For a hard worker. He’d text her reminders about study group sessions and offer to help with her assignments, but never in a way that felt overbearing or intrusive.

One day, Y/N was sitting in the campus café, buried in her textbooks, when Yunho slid into the seat across from her. He placed a neatly wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water in front of her.

“You’ve been here for hours,” he said, his voice gentle. “Thought you could use a break.”

Y/N looked up, surprised. “Thanks, Yunho. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he replied with a shrug, his eyes sincere. “You’re working hard. Just thought you could use some fuel.”

She took the sandwich, her heart softening slightly. “Alright, you get points for this one.”

As the days passed, Yunho continued to prove himself through his actions rather than words. He showed up for their shared classes on time, participated earnestly in group projects, and even began to attend study sessions he previously avoided. His presence was steady, and his demeanor was genuine.

One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Yunho and Y/N found themselves sat on a bench overlooking the campus garden, Yunho turned to her with a thoughtful expression. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden curiosity. “Why?”

“You said before that I didn't know you. I want to know you, the real you,” he replied softly.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. I used to spend hours reading about space and dreaming of exploring the stars.”

Yunho smiled. “That’s amazing. Do you still dream about it?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “But life got in the way, and I found other passions.”

He nodded, understanding. “It’s never too late to chase your dreams, you know.”

She smiled, appreciating his sincerity. “What about you, Yunho? What do you dream about?”

His expression turned serious. “I always dreamed of being a dancer, you know, like those Kpop Idols we see plastered on magazines and stuff. I took dance when I was younger, even did it during the first year of college." Y/N's eyes widened, shocked by the revelation. 

"Wow, I didn't expect that. What made you stop?" She questioned. Yunho kept his gaze on the small water fountain in garden. 

"School just got in the way, with the classes I was taking it just became too much. Sucks though, I really had fun doing it."  Y/N nodded, understanding the sacrifices that came with balancing school and personal passions. “I get it. Sometimes life demands all our attention, and our dreams take a back seat.”

Yunho turned his gaze back to her, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. “But, it’s never too late, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the soft rustling of leaves and distant sounds of students passing by creating a serene backdrop. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a shift in her perception of Yunho. The more she learned about him, the more she realized how much there was beneath his charming exterior.

Yunho cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone about my dreams. People always see me as the carefree guy who doesn’t take anything seriously.”

“That’s because that’s how you present yourself,” she pointed out gently. “But I’m beginning to see that there’s more to you than that.”

He looked at her, his expression earnest. “And I want you to see all of me. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down completely. “You’re making progress, Yunho. Keep it up.”

He grinned, his usual playful demeanor returning. “I will. And just so you know, I’m not giving up on you.”

She laughed softly. “I’m starting to believe that.”

As the third week rolled around, Yunho's persistence began to pay off. Y/N found herself looking forward to their interactions, her initial resistance slowly melting away. She started to see Yunho not as the campus playboy, but as someone who genuinely cared about her.

One Friday afternoon, Yunho approached her with a different kind of proposition. “There’s a new exhibit at the art museum this weekend. Would you like to go with me?”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the thoughtful invitation. “An art exhibit? Not exactly your usual scene.”

“I thought it might be a nice change,” he said, his smile warm. “And I’d like to see it with you.”

She considered it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Yunho. Let’s see this exhibit.”

That Saturday, they met outside the museum. Yunho was waiting for her, looking relaxed and excited. As they walked through the gallery, admiring the paintings and sculptures, Y/N found herself enjoying his company more than she had anticipated.

At one point, they stood in front of a particularly striking piece, a constellation of stars painted across a vast, dark canvas. Y/N felt a pang of nostalgia for her childhood dreams.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“It is,” Yunho agreed, his gaze fixed on her rather than the painting. “Just like you.”

She turned to him, her heart racing. For the first time, she saw the sincerity in his eyes, and it took her breath away.

“Yunho, I…” she began, but he cut her off gently.

“Hey, no rush,” he said softly. “I’m willing to wait for you to believe in me. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

As they continued to explore the exhibit, side by side, Y/N felt a new chapter beginning. She wasn’t ready to fully trust him yet, but she was willing to give him a chance. And maybe, just maybe, Yunho was worth the risk. As they made their way through the museum, Y/N decided to take the first risk. She reached for his arm, wrapping hers around it and walked closely beside him. Yunho eyes widened and eyebrows shot up at the action, looking down at her. A small smile crossed his features. 

"Yeah, I didn't take you for a hand holder." Yunho's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"What the hell does that mean?" Y/N laughed, trying to keep quiet as to not disturb the families around them.

Yunho chuckled, leaning in closer so their conversation remained private. "I mean, you're always so independent and strong. I figured you wouldn't want to be seen with a guy like me, especially not holding hands."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh please, I'm just as capable of showing affection as anyone else. Plus, I figured you needed a little encouragement."

His smile grew, a genuine warmth spreading across his face. "Well, I appreciate it. It means a lot, coming from you."

They continued walking through the museum, their conversation flowing naturally. Y/N found herself sharing more about her life, her interests, and even some of her fears. Yunho listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and offering his own experiences in return.

As they approached a section of the museum featuring interactive exhibits, Yunho's eyes lit up. "Hey, look at this! Wanna try?"

Y/N followed his gaze to a virtual reality station where visitors could experience famous historical events. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Why not? Let's give it a shot."

They each donned VR headsets and were transported to a world of ancient civilizations and monumental moments in history. They laughed and marveled at the immersive experience, occasionally bumping into each other as they navigated the virtual environment.

When they finally removed their headsets, Y/N felt a sense of exhilaration. "That was amazing! I never thought I'd get to experience something like that."

"Me neither," Yunho agreed, his excitement matching hers. "I'm glad we did it together."

Y/N's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. She was beginning to see Yunho in a new light, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. She knew she had to protect herself, but she couldn't deny the growing connection between them.

As they exited the museum, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city. Yunho turned to her, his expression serious yet hopeful. "Y/N, I know I've made a lot of mistakes in the past, but I want you to know that I'm serious about this. About us. I don't want to be that guy anymore. I want to be better, for you."

Y/N took a deep breath, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. But as she looked into Yunho's eyes, she saw a sincerity that she couldn't ignore. With that, they walked back to campus together, side by side, their future uncertain but filled with possibilities. For the first time, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Yunho was worth the risk.

"He is blowing smoke up your ass, Y/N, can't you see that?" Chaeyeon's voice was laced with concern as she sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Y/N stood in the small kitchen of their dorm, stirring a pot of soup on the stove. She sighed and put down the wooden spoon, turning to face her roommate.

"I thought that at first too, Chae, but I don't know anymore. He seems like he's serious," Y/N replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Chaeyeon looked up from her phone, her expression skeptical. "Yunho? Serious? This is the same guy who was seen with a different girl every week last semester. What makes you think he's changed?"

Y/N ran a hand through her hair, searching for the right words. "It's different with me. He's been showing up to classes, helping me with projects, even going to study sessions he used to avoid. And he shared something personal with me, something he said he hasn't told anyone else."

Chaeyeon's eyes narrowed. "And you believe that?"

"Yes, I do," Y/N said firmly. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can see it in his eyes. He's trying, Chae."

Chaeyeon sighed, setting her phone aside and standing up. She walked over to Y/N, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. You usually aren't the one to go for people like that, and I'm worried he's just saying what you want to hear."

"I appreciate that, really," Y/N said, giving her friend a small smile. "But I have to give him a chance. If he proves me wrong, then I'll deal with it. But if I don't give him a chance, I'll always wonder what if."

Chaeyeon studied her for a moment before nodding. "Alright, but I'm keeping an eye on him. If he so much as makes you cry, I’ll be there with a baseball bat. Maybe wrap some barbed wire on go Negan on his ass."

Y/N laughed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Deal. Now, help me set the table. This soup is almost ready."

Later that evening, Y/N sat on her bed, flipping through her notes for an upcoming exam. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen to see a message from Yunho.

Yunho: Had a great time at the museum today. Hope you did too. Good luck with your studying!

A smile spread across her face as she typed a quick response.

Y/N: Thanks, Yunho. I had a great time too. Talk to you later?

Yunho: Definitely. Good night, Y/N.

She put her phone down, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Maybe Chaeyeon was right to be cautious, but for now, Y/N was willing to trust her instincts. And her instincts told her that Yunho deserved a chance.

As she settled into bed, her thoughts drifted to their day at the museum, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at her, and the sincerity in his voice. She drifted off to sleep with a sense of hope, ready to see where this journey would take them.

Y/N was in the library, buried in her textbooks, when she overheard a conversation at the table next to her.

"Did you hear? Eileen’s been all over Yunho lately," one girl whispered to her friend.

Y/N’s heart sank. She tried to focus on her studies, but the words gnawed at her. Deciding she couldn't concentrate, she packed up her things and headed back to her dorm, her mind racing.

As soon as she entered the room, Chaeyeon looked up from her laptop. "Hey, you look stressed. What's up?"

Y/N sighed, dropping her bag onto her bed. "I heard some girls talking about how Eileen has been all over Yunho lately."

Chaeyeon's expression darkened. "That girl doesn’t give up, does she? Have you talked to Yunho about it?"

Eileen wasn't an unknown name. Her and Yunho had been an item in the past, one of his 'victims' if you want to call it that. They were the on again off again couple that were off longer than they were on. Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before she would enter the picture again. 

"No, not yet. I don’t want to come off as insecure or clingy," Y/N admitted, running a hand through her hair. "But it’s bothering me."

Chaeyeon nodded in agreement with a concerned expression. "I get why you're hesitant, but you can't ignore this. It's better to talk to Yunho now before things escalate."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between wanting to trust Yunho and her growing unease about Eileen's intentions. "You're right. I just... I don't want to be that girlfriend who's constantly questioning him."

"You're not. You're just being cautious, and that's okay," Chaeyeon reassured her. "Besides, if Yunho is serious about you, he'll understand why you're bringing this up."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to him tonight."

That evening, Y/N met Yunho at a quiet corner of the campus cafe. The atmosphere was serene, with soft music playing in the background and the aroma of coffee lingering in the air. Yunho smiled warmly as she approached, pulling out a chair for her.

"Hey, Y/N. How was your day?" he asked, his eyes filled with genuine interest.

Y/N sat down, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. "It was okay. Can we talk for a bit?"

"Sure, of course," Yunho said, his expression shifting to concern. "Is everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N plunged into the conversation. "I overheard some girls talking in the library today. They mentioned that Eileen has been getting close to you again."

Yunho's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze searching hers. "Eileen? Yeah, she's tried to reconnect a few times, but I've made it clear that I'm not interested."

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and lingering doubt. "I trust you, Yunho. I just... I wanted to hear it from you."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I understand why you're asking, and I appreciate your honesty. You're the only one I want to be with, Y/N."

His words were reassuring, yet Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease entirely. "I know, it's just... Eileen has a history with you, and I can't help but worry."

Yunho squeezed her hand gently. "I get it. But trust me, she's not a threat to us. I'll handle it, okay?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Okay. Thank you for understanding."

Both of them sat in a comfortable silence. Yunho had already ordered their drinks and food so there was no point in getting up any time soon. Y/N, wanting a change of scenery, decided to take the initiative. 

"Do you want to come to my dorm?" Yunho chokes on his drink, almost slamming it back down on the table, lightly coughing. Yunho's sudden coughing fit startled Y/N, and she reached out, concern etching her features. "Are you okay?"

He waved a hand, still recovering from the surprise. "Yeah, sorry. Just caught me off guard."

Y/N chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I guess that was a bit unexpected. But seriously, do you want to come to my dorm? It's quieter there, and we can hang out without all the noise."

Yunho cleared his throat, his expression thoughtful as he considered her offer. "Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

They finished their drinks and made their way to Y/N's dorm room. It was a cozy space with posters on the walls, a small bookshelf filled with textbooks, and a comfortable bed tucked in one corner. Y/N grabbed a couple of pillows from her bed and settled on the floor with Yunho, leaning against the wall.

"Sorry for the cramped space.," she said, smiling at him warmly.

Yunho returned her smile, his eyes softening. "No worries, thanks for inviting me. Your room is nice."

In her room, they talked for hours, sharing stories and laughing together. Y/N felt a sense of ease and comfort with Yunho, enjoying his company more than she had expected. As the evening wore on, they found themselves sitting closer, their knees brushing occasionally.

Yunho reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Y/N, I really like being with you."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. "I feel the same way, Yunho."

He leaned in closer, his gaze searching hers. "Can I kiss you?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. She nodded slightly, her eyes locked on his.

Yunho's lips met hers gently, a spark igniting between them. It was a soft, tender kiss filled with unspoken promises and a newfound connection. Y/N melted into the moment, savoring the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his actions.

When they finally pulled apart, they both were breathless, their gazes locked in silent understanding. Yunho whispered, "It would be wrong if we have sex now, right?."

"Not there quite yet buddy." she replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. Yunho makes a wounded noise and slides his body down the wall. 

"Oh god, it's official. I'm dying." Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Yunho's dramatic reaction. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, trying to suppress her amusement.

"Yunho, you're being ridiculous," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with fondness. "I didn't mean it like that."

He peeked up at her from his dramatic slump against the wall, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, so you didn't just 'buddy' me to death?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "You know what I meant."

Yunho grinned, his earlier faux distress melting away. "Fine, fine. But seriously, I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Me too," Y/N agreed softly, her smile warm and genuine. "I like taking things slow."

Yunho nodded, his expression earnest. "Good. I want us to be sure about everything."

They sat together in comfortable silence for a moment, the earlier tension dissipating into a sense of closeness and understanding. Y/N leaned against the wall next to him, feeling grateful for their lighthearted banter and the depth of their connection.

"So, no more dramatic deaths?" she teased lightly.

Yunho chuckled. "I make no promises." Y/N lightly slaps his chest before they both erupt in laughter.  They continued to talk and enjoy each other's company late into the night, their bond growing stronger with each shared moment. 

In the morning, Y/N had woken up to a text tone going off. Blinking her eyes open, she sees the bag of chips lying on the floor next to 2 discarded blankets her and Yunho used last night when it got cold. She feels a weight on her stomach, looking down she sees Yunho's arm draped over her. He was still fast asleep, light snores left his lips and hair was all over the place. Y/N turned to face him, trying to fall back asleep before another text tone went off. 

Internally groaning, she reached for her phone to silence it. Looking at the screen, she didn't see any recent messages like she assumed she would. After another text sounded off, she realized it was Yunho's phone. Not wanting to invade his privacy, she gently nudged him awake. 

"Yunho," he groans, face digging into the pillow. Y/N nudges him again, gently patting his arm that was around her. "Baby your phones going off." 

Yunho stirred awake at Y/N's gentle nudging, his face still half-buried in the pillow. He mumbled incoherently, his arm tightening instinctively around her before he fully registered her words.

"Hmm?" Yunho's voice was groggy as he lifted his head, blinking sleepily at her.

"Your phone," Y/N repeated softly, nodding towards the source of the noise.

Yunho followed her gaze and realized his phone was buzzing on the nightstand. He let out a sleepy grunt and reluctantly released his hold on Y/N to reach for it. Rubbing his eyes, he swiped to unlock the screen and glanced at the notifications.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, his fingers fumbling to silence the alerts. "Probably just messages from the guys."

Y/N smiled warmly at him, her affection evident in her gaze. "It's okay. I just didn't want you to miss anything important."

Yunho set his phone back down and turned his attention back to her, his sleepy smile melting her heart. "Thank you, Y/N."

They lay there for a moment, basking in the quiet intimacy of the morning. Y/N shifted slightly, feeling Yunho's arm settle around her once more. She traced circles on his chest absently, her mind drifting as she watched his peaceful expression.

"I like waking up like this," Yunho murmured softly, his eyes fixed on her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, warmth spreading through her. "Me too."

They stayed intertwined in each other's arms, savoring the calm and comfort of the moment. At least, they were, until another text was sent to him. 

"Are you sure it's Mingi and San? It seems important." Y/N comments, handing Yunho his phone. Yunho takes it, laying on his back as he opens the device. Y/N adjusted to the position, laying her head back onto his chest and arm hugging his waist. 

"I think so, I didn't actually check who it was." Yunho's relaxed demeanor shifted slightly as he glanced at the screen of his phone. His brows furrowed imperceptibly, a hint of tension crossing his features before he composed himself. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected message.

Y/N, sensing his change in demeanor, looked up at him questioningly. She could feel the subtle shift in his body language beneath her, his muscles tensing slightly.

"Who is it?" she asked softly, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest.

Yunho sighed, his expression conflicted as he showed her the message. "It's Eileen."

Y/N's heart sank as she read the message over his shoulder. The words were casual yet suggestive, hinting at a desire to reconnect. She bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her.

"What does she want?" Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Yunho shrugged, a mix of frustration and resignation in his tone. "She's asking if we can meet up sometime."

Y/N took a deep breath, processing the information. She knew Eileen had been persistent in the past, but seeing it firsthand stirred up a mix of emotions. She tightened her arm around Yunho's waist, a silent gesture of reassurance and support.

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly, her gaze searching his.

Yunho met her eyes, his expression serious. "I'll tell her it's not happening."

Her heart warmed at his words, grateful for his honesty and commitment. She nodded slowly, trusting him to handle the situation.

"Thank you," she murmured, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

Yunho turned to meet her lips with his own, the kiss tender and reassuring. They held each other close, finding solace in the warmth of their embrace amidst the uncertainty that Eileen's message had brought.

As they lay there together, Y/N felt a renewed sense of trust and closeness with Yunho. She knew challenges would arise, but she also knew they could face them together. And in that quiet moment, she believed more than ever that their connection was worth fighting for. 

She was starting to get annoyed with this Eileen chick. Ever since she spammed Yunho's phone that morning, it seems she can't go a single day without seeing her. One afternoon, Y/N was heading to the campus sandwich shop when she spotted Eileen sitting at a corner table, engrossed in her phone. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach her or not. Curiosity and a hint of apprehension drove her forward.

Y/N cleared her throat as she approached, trying to keep her tone neutral. "Hey, Eileen."

Eileen looked up, a polite smile gracing her features. "Oh, hey Y/N. How's it going?"

Y/N took a seat across from her, studying Eileen's composed demeanor. "It's going well. How about you?"

Eileen shrugged nonchalantly, though Y/N detected a flicker of something in her eyes. "Can't complain. So, how are things with Yunho?"

Y/N tensed slightly at the directness of the question but kept her composure. "Things are good. We're getting along."

"That's good to hear," Eileen replied casually, though her gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. "Yunho and I go way back, you know."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone guarded. "Yeah, I've heard."

Eileen leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "He's a great guy, but he can be a bit... unpredictable."

Y/N's jaw clenched subtly, resisting the urge to bristle at the implication. "I trust Yunho."

Eileen nodded, her smile tight. "Of course. Just... keep your eyes open, Y/N."

With that cryptic remark, Eileen excused herself, leaving Y/N to ponder her words. She couldn't shake the unease that settled in her gut, wondering what Eileen's intentions truly were. To make matters worse, she had also been pestering Yunho as well. 

A few days after her interaction, Yunho found himself unexpectedly crossing paths with Eileen outside the campus library. She smiled brightly as she approached him, her demeanor friendly yet calculated.

"Hey, Yunho! Long time no see," Eileen greeted, her voice carrying a hint of flirtation.

Yunho nodded politely, his guard subtly rising. "Hey, Eileen. How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, surviving," she replied with a playful grin. "I heard you've been spending a lot of time with Y/N lately."

Yunho's expression softened as he thought of Y/N. "Yeah, we've been getting to know each other."

Eileen's smile faltered slightly, though she quickly masked it. "That's great. She seems nice."

"She is," Yunho affirmed, his tone firm yet courteous. "Look, Eileen, I appreciate you reaching out, but I think it's best if we keep things friendly."

Eileen's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, her facade slipping for a moment. "Are you sure about that, Yunho? You and I... we have something."

Yunho sighed softly, his patience wearing thin. "Eileen, that was a long time ago."

Her smile turned brittle as she nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features. "I understand. Just know that I'm here if you ever change your mind."

With that, Eileen turned and walked away, leaving Yunho to wrestle with a mix of relief and lingering concern. He knew Eileen's persistence wouldn't fade easily, but he was determined to focus on the relationship he was building with Y/N.

"She is like a pest, as soon as you think you've gotten rid of the damn thing it pops back up again." Yunho and Y/N were sitting on the couch together, well, more like Y/N was sitting on the couch and Yunho sat on the floor between her legs. She was leaned forward and arms were wrapped around Yunho's shoulders as they talked with Chaeyeon. 

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers absentmindedly playing with Yunho's hair as she listened to his comment. "Well, pests can be persistent. But don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

Chaeyeon, who was lounging on the opposite end of the couch, raised an eyebrow curiously. "What's going on? Pest problem?"

Yunho sighed dramatically, leaning back against Y/N's legs. "Eileen keeps trying to worm her way back into my life."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, she's been... persistent."

Chaeyeon frowned, crossing her arms. "That sounds annoying. What does she want?"

Yunho shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I don't know. She keeps hinting that we should hang out, catch up, that sort of thing."

Y/N squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. "But he's made it clear he's with me now."

Chaeyeon nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "Got it. Well, just keep shutting her down. She'll get the hint eventually."

Yunho smiled gratefully at Y/N and Chaeyeon. "Yeah, I hope so, but I'm not sure. She's like Y/N," He glances back to look at her as she gives him a questioning look. "Stubborn as fuck." 

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Yunho's playful jab, though she pretended to scowl as she swatted the back of his head lightly. "Watch it."

Yunho grinned mischievously, rubbing the spot where she had lightly hit him. "Just speaking the truth, babe."

Chaeyeon chuckled, enjoying the banter between them. "Well, if that's the case, she won't give up easily."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Great, now I have competition."

Yunho leaned back against her legs again, looking up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Trust me, there is no competition."

She couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Smooth recovery."

Chaeyeon laughed, shaking her head. "You two are something else."

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? We keep it interesting."

As they settled back into their comfortable position on the couch, Y/N felt a surge of gratitude for the support and playfulness Yunho brought into her life, even in moments of potential tension like this one with Eileen. She squeezed his shoulders affectionately, silently thanking Chaeyeon for being there as well.

Together, they were navigating the complexities of relationships, both past and present, with humor, honesty, and a steadfast commitment to each other. And as Y/N glanced down at Yunho's smiling face, she knew that whatever challenges they faced, they would face them together.

The bass thudded through Yunho's chest as he navigated through the pulsating crowd at the Sigma house party. He greeted familiar faces with a nod or a wave, his mind distracted by thoughts of Y/N. She had opted to stay home tonight, citing a need to catch up on studying, but Yunho couldn't shake the feeling that she was avoiding situations like these.

He found Mingi and San near the makeshift bar, surrounded by a throng of people vying for drinks. Mingi caught sight of him first, waving enthusiastically and pulling him into a bear hug.

"Yunho, buddy! You made it," Mingi shouted over the music, clapping him on the back.

Yunho grinned, exchanging a fist bump with San. "Wouldn't miss it. How's the party so far?"

San shrugged, his voice barely audible over the beat. "Same old, same old. Where's Y/N? Thought she was coming."

Yunho's smile faltered slightly at the mention of Y/N. "Ah, she decided to take a rain check tonight. Said she wasn't feeling up to it."

Mingi raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Everything okay with you two?"

Yunho hesitated, trying to brush off the concern. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Just one of those nights, you know?"

San clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you're here now. Let's make the most of it."

They ventured further into the party, Yunho gradually letting himself relax into the familiar chaos of college life. People danced, shouted conversations, and spilled drinks in equal measure. It wasn't long before Yunho found himself caught up in the rhythm, his worries momentarily forgotten.

As he made his way to the backyard for some fresh air, Yunho spotted Eileen across the room. She was leaning against a wall, her gaze scanning the crowd with a calculated intensity. Their eyes met briefly before she sauntered over, a sly smile curving her lips.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up," Eileen purred, her voice barely audible above the music.

Yunho chuckled lightly, a hint of wariness in his expression. "Hey, Eileen. Long time no see."

Eileen tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been avoiding me, Yunho."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms defensively. "I've been busy. You know how it is."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I miss us, Yunho. We had something good."

Yunho sighed softly, shaking his head. "Eileen, that was a long time ago. We've both moved on."

Her smile turned sultry as she reached out to touch his arm, a subtle invitation in her gaze. "Have we, though? I see the way you look at me."

Yunho took a step back, his resolve hardening. "I'm with Y/N now, Eileen. It's not going to happen."

Eileen rolled her eyes and stood closer to him. "Yeah? And how long do you think that's gonna last Yunho? She doesn't know you, not like I do. You know, you sleep with all these different girls but every single time where did that lead you? Right back to me." 

Yunho's jaw tightened as Eileen's words hit a nerve, stirring up old memories and doubts he had buried deep. He glanced around nervously, hoping no one was paying too much attention to their conversation.

"Eileen, that's not fair," he replied tersely, his voice low yet firm. "Y/N is different."

Eileen leaned in closer, her tone dripping with condescension. "Oh, please. You've said that before. What makes her so special?"

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the rising tension. "She trusts me. She sees me for who I am now, not who I was."

Eileen scoffed softly, her gaze challenging. "And what if I told her about us? About all the times you came running back to me?"

Yunho's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of fear crossing his features. "You wouldn't."

Eileen smirked, enjoying the discomfort she was causing. "Try me, Yunho. You know I'm not one to be ignored."

Yunho glanced around again, feeling trapped by Eileen's persistence and the weight of his past mistakes. "Look, Eileen, I get it. But this isn't the place for this conversation."

Eileen's smirk widened, her gaze unwavering. "Fine. But remember, Yunho, I'm not going anywhere."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd once more, leaving Yunho standing there with a knot in his stomach. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled over him. Deep down, he knew Eileen wouldn't give up easily, and he feared the consequences if she followed through on her threat.

Taking a shaky breath, Yunho resolved to talk to Y/N about Eileen and confront the situation head-on. He needed her trust more than ever now, and he wasn't about to let his past mistakes jeopardize their future together. 

Yunho went to find his friends, informing them he was gonna call it early and head home. After their goodbyes, he headed straight for Y/N's dorm, wanting her comfort more than anything else in that moment.  Yunho's footsteps echoed softly in the quiet corridors of the dormitory as he made his way to Y/N's room. His mind raced with thoughts of Eileen and the unsettling encounter at the party. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, knowing Eileen's persistence could potentially unravel everything he had built with Y/N.

When he reached her door, Yunho hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knocked gently, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Yunho, hey," Chaeyeon greeted softly, her brow furrowing as she took in his serious demeanor. "Is everything okay?"

Yunho stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. He turned to face her, the weight of his worries evident in his eyes. "Is Y/N awake?"

Concern deepened on Chaeyeon's face. "Yeah I think so, I heard her TV still just a few minutes ago." Yunho nodded and headed to her room, gently knocking on the door. After a few moments, door opened. 

"Yunho? I thought you would be at the party still?" She squinted her eyes at him, he can tell she was close to falling asleep moments before he showed up. "Shit, what time is it?" Before she walked away, he grabbed her and pulled her in for a hug. Y/N stood momentarily shocked before holding him, concern etched her faces when she pulled back and looked at his face. She pulled him fully inside her room, shutting her door, and led him to sit on her bed. 

She sat beside him, reaching out to grasp his hand reassuringly. "What happened?"

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "Eileen was at the party tonight. She... she approached me."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening on his hand. "What did she want?"

He looked down, his voice quiet but resolute. "She... she's not giving up, Y/N. She tried to insinuate things about us, about my past. She even threatened to... to tell you."

Y/N's expression softened with understanding as she gently squeezed his hand. "Yunho, I trust you. Whatever happened in the past, it's in the past. You're with me now."

Yunho looked up at her, relief flooding through him at her words. "I know, but... I just.... I don't want her causing trouble for us."

Y/N nodded reassuringly, her thumb stroking his hand soothingly. "Hey relax. We'll deal with this together, okay?"

Yunho nodded, a grateful smile touching his lips. "Okay."

They sat together in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. Yunho felt a surge of gratitude for Y/N's unwavering support and understanding. Despite the uncertainty of Eileen's intentions, he knew that facing this challenge together with Y/N by his side was the only way forward.

"I'm here for you, Yunho," Y/N said softly, breaking the silence. "No matter what."

Yunho leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Y/N."

As they held each other close, Yunho felt a sense of peace settle over him. "Can I stay here tonight?" He asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful bubble she created for him. 

Y/N smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection for Yunho. "Of course you can stay."

Yunho's expression softened with gratitude as he settled in beside her on the bed. They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, finding comfort and solace in the presence of one another. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the dorm's ventilation system, creating a serene atmosphere that eased the tension from Yunho's shoulders.

"I'm sorry for bringing this into your space," Yunho murmured after a while, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender. "You don't need to apologize, Yunho. Besides, I kind of anticipated some drama to come along."

He nodded, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of relief and adoration. "Thank you for understanding."

Y/N smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "Always."

They stayed intertwined in each other's embrace, finding comfort and reassurance in their closeness. For Yunho, being with Y/N brought a sense of calm he hadn't felt in a long time. 

"I'm going." Her answer was final, her tone said it all. Yunho dropped his head in defeat, knowing it was a losing battle when she made up her mind. He dragged his hand down his face, looking into her eyes once more. 

"You don't have to, I can-" but he was cut off once more. 

"Nope, I'm going. It's done, my decision is final." Yunho sighed, feeling torn between gratitude for Y/N's determination and worry about what might unfold at the party. He knew Y/N's strength and resolve could handle Eileen, but he also feared the potential confrontation.

"Okay," he conceded reluctantly, knowing it was futile to argue further once Y/N had made up her mind. "Just promise me you'll be careful,"

Y/N nodded firmly, her expression resolute. "I will-" Yunho shakes a finger at her. "No no no, careful as in you promise to not cuss her out in front of half the student body." 

Y/N chuckled softly, understanding Yunho's concern. "Okay, fine. I promise I won't cause a scene."

Yunho sighed with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Thank you. Just... be yourself, but maybe tone down the fierceness a notch?"

She grinned, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'll do my best."

With a nod, Yunho leaned in to kiss her forehead gently. "Alright then, I'm gonna start getting ready once class ends. I'll pick you up at 8 and we'll go together."

Y/N smiled warmly, feeling touched by his support. "Sounds good. I'll see you later then." With a quick kiss goodbye, they parted ways. As she was walking back to her dorm, seeing as her classes were finished for the day, she paused. Did she have anything to wear?  

Later that evening, she was doing some finishing touches to her looks. She decided she wanted to keep it simple, so she put on a cute olive green strapless top and light wash destroyed shorts. Y/N decided to keep her hair down, though she kept a hair tie on her in case it got hot. With a gold pair of hoops in and a set of gold necklaces adorning her neck, once she finished her makeup she was ready to go. 

A knock came to her bedroom door, Chaeyeon's voice echoed through. "Y/N, your boy toy is here." Y/N rolled her eyes before opening the door. She sent a glare towards her friend, "Classy Chae, real classy. I'll be there in a second, I'm almost done." 

Y/N took a final glance in the mirror, smoothing down her top and adjusting her earrings before heading to the door. She found Yunho waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall with a smile on his face. His dark jeans and fitted black shirt contrasted with her more casual attire, but they complemented each other perfectly.

"Hey," he greeted warmly as she approached.

"Hey yourself," she replied playfully, stepping closer to him. "Ready to face the party?"

Yunho chuckled, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Only if you're by my side."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her smile widening. "Always."

They walked together to the party venue, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement and music echoing through the halls. Yunho kept a protective arm around her shoulders as they navigated through the crowd, exchanging nods and greetings with familiar faces along the way.

Inside, the party was in full swing, lights flashing and people mingling. Yunho guided Y/N towards a quieter corner where they could catch their breath and talk.

"You look amazing," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her.

"Thanks," she replied, feeling a warm blush spread across her cheeks. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Yunho grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "Let's grab some drinks. What are you having?"

Y/N considered for a moment before answering. "Just a beer is fine for now."

He nodded and headed towards the makeshift bar, leaving Y/N to observe the partygoers around her. She spotted familiar faces from their classes and social circles, exchanging nods and smiles as she scanned the room.

As Yunho returned with their drinks, Y/N took a sip of her beer, feeling the buzz of the party sink in. They chatted and laughed together, enjoying the music and occasional dance moves from their friends. San and Mingi had shown up a few minutes later, joining them once they made their rounds with everyone. Yunho kept a watchful eye on Y/N, subtly guiding her away from any potential encounters with Eileen.

"Hey guys," she greeted warmly, glancing between Yunho and his friends. "Having fun?"

Mingi grinned, pulling her into a friendly side hug. "Always, especially with you around, Y/N."

San chuckled, nudging Yunho. "You better keep an eye on this one, Yunho. She's about to steal the show."

Yunho couldn't help but smile at Y/N, his worries momentarily easing with her presence. "Yeah, she always does."

Y/N glanced around, sensing the tension in the air. "Everything okay?"

Yunho hesitated, then decided to be honest. "Eileen's here. I saw her earlier. Just... be careful, okay?"

Y/N nodded solemnly, her gaze meeting Yunho's with determination. "I will. Don't worry."

With a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Y/N turned to Mingi and San, engaging in light-hearted banter to lift the mood. After a while, Y/N excused herself to use the restroom, leaving Yunho with the boys briefly. As she made her way through the crowd, she caught sight of Eileen across the room, chatting with a group of friends. Their eyes met briefly, and Y/N felt a surge of determination.

She entered the restroom, took a deep breath, and gathered her thoughts. She wasn't here to start a fight, but she was ready to assert herself if needed.

Back with the boys, Yunho watched as she parted from them, but turned back to Mingi and San, trying to maintain a casual demeanor despite the tension prickling at the edges of his awareness.

"So, how's your semester going, Yunho?" Mingi asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly, scanning the room once more before replying. "It's been alright. Just trying to stay on top of everything, you know?"

San nodded, sipping on his drink thoughtfully. "Yeah, I hear you. Midterms are coming up soon, gotta start hitting the books."

Before Yunho could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them from behind. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Yunho and his entourage."

Yunho tensed at the sound of Eileen's voice, turning to see her approaching with a coy smile. San and Mingi exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the tension.

"Eileen," Yunho acknowledged tersely, his guard up.

She ignored his curt tone, sidling up closer to Yunho with a flirtatious smile. "You're looking good."

Yunho forced a polite smile, stepping slightly away from her. "Thanks. Look, Eileen, this isn't really a good time-"

"Oh, come on, Yunho," Eileen purred, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Can't we catch up? I've missed you."

San and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, silently urging Yunho to handle the situation carefully. Yunho shifted uncomfortably under Eileen's gaze, acutely aware of the potential for drama.

"I think we've caught up enough," Yunho replied firmly, gently removing her hand from his arm. "I'm here with Y/N tonight."

Eileen's smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of annoyance. "Y/N, huh? I saw her earlier. She seems... determined."

Yunho bristled slightly at the implication in Eileen's tone. "She knows what she wants."

Eileen leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And what about you, Yunho? Are you sure she's what you want?"

Yunho's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "Yes, I'm sure."

Eileen sighed dramatically, leaning back with a calculated smile. "Well, while she's gone, how about a dance. Come on, just one, promise I'll give you back to her once we're done."

Yunho felt his muscles tense as Eileen's hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him towards the dance floor despite his resistance. He glanced back at Mingi and San, his expression pleading for understanding, but they could only watch helplessly as Eileen led him away.

The pulsing beat of the music surrounded them as Eileen moved closer, her body pressing against his in a way that made Yunho uncomfortable. He tried to keep a polite distance, but Eileen seemed determined to disregard his boundaries.

"Come on, Yunho," she coaxed, her voice low and persuasive. "You used to love dancing. Just one dance won't hurt."

Yunho sighed inwardly, feeling trapped in the situation. He knew dancing with Eileen was a bad idea, especially with Y/N likely to return from the restroom soon, but he also didn't want to escalate the tension by refusing outright.

Reluctantly, Yunho allowed Eileen to guide him into a dance, trying to keep a polite distance while still complying with her insistence. He kept his movements reserved, avoiding any intimate contact and keeping his gaze fixed on the crowd around them, hoping to signal to Y/N that he was not willingly participating in this dance.

Eileen, however, seemed oblivious to his discomfort, smiling up at him as if they were sharing a romantic moment. Yunho's mind raced with thoughts of how to extricate himself from the situation without causing a scene. He needed to find a way to end this dance quickly and return to Y/N's side before things escalated further.

As Yunho awkwardly danced with Eileen, keeping his movements stiff and his gaze drifting to the crowd, he felt a surge of relief when he spotted Y/N making her way back from the restroom. He glanced towards Mingi and San, who were watching the scene unfold with concern evident on their faces.

Y/N approached them, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Hey, where's Yunho? I thought he was with you guys."

Mingi exchanged a quick glance with San before explaining, "He got pulled away by Eileen. She dragged him to dance with her."

Y/N's eyes narrowed, her jaw tensing with restrained anger. She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself before responding. "Okay," she said tersely. "Thanks for letting me know."

Without another word, Y/N turned and began weaving through the crowd towards where Yunho and Eileen were dancing. Her steps were purposeful, her posture radiating determination as she closed the distance.

Yunho caught sight of Y/N approaching, his heart sinking with worry over how she might react. He met her gaze, silently pleading for understanding as Eileen continued to dance beside him, oblivious to Y/N's approach.

Eileen noticed Y/N's approach as well, her expression shifting from amusement to curiosity. She leaned in closer to Yunho, her voice low and teasing. "Looks like your current toy isn't too happy about us dancing. Trouble in paradise?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin. "She's not my toy, Eileen," he said firmly, his voice tinged with frustration.

Eileen's smile widened, a hint of triumph in her eyes. "Really? Could've fooled me."

Before Yunho could respond, Y/N reached them, her presence commanding attention. She stood beside Yunho, her gaze locking onto Eileen with unwavering intensity. Without a word, Y/N extended her hand towards Yunho.

Yunho blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard by Y/N's unexpected gesture. With no hesitation, he placed his hand in hers, silently acknowledging her silent cue.

With deliberate grace, Y/N pulled Yunho away from Eileen's grasp, guiding him back towards the quieter corner of the room they had occupied earlier. The movement was subtle yet powerful, a clear statement of ownership and solidarity. Before they got too far, Yunho felt his other arm be pulled back, making him yank Y/N backwards. 

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't get to just drag him off like that," Eileen snapped, her voice rising with irritation. She grabbed Yunho's arm, attempting to pull him back towards her.

Yunho resisted her pull, his expression hardening. "Let go, Eileen," he said firmly, his voice laced with frustration.

Eileen's eyes flashed with defiance. "No, Yunho. We were having fun. Why are you letting her ruin everything?"

Y/N stood her ground beside Yunho, her posture unwavering despite Eileen's confrontation. "He's with me now, Eileen. You need to accept that."

Eileen scoffed, her gaze flickering between Yunho and Y/N. "Oh please, like he's never gone back to me before. You're just a phase, sweetheart."

Yunho's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "Enough, Eileen. This isn't about you or me anymore. It's over." Elieen looked as if she was going to throw a temper tantrum. Y/N took a step closer to her, keeping her voice low as to not cause a scene. 

"Face it, you lost. He's not yours anymore, he's mine. Now let go of my boyfriend." Y/N forcefully removes her hold from Yunho's arm and gently nudges him to start walking back to San and Mingi. Eileen's face flushed with anger at Y/N's assertive words. She opened her mouth to retort, but Y/N had already turned around and walked away. With a frustrated huff, Eileen finally relented, shooting one last glare at Yunho and Y/N before turning on her heel and storming off into the crowd.

Yunho turned to Y/N, gratitude and admiration shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

Y/N smiled warmly, her own tension melting away as they rejoined San and Mingi. "We make a good team," she replied softly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Yunho's cheek.

San and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, a mixture of relief and pride evident on their faces. "Let's get out of here," Mingi suggested, gesturing towards the exit.

Yunho nodded in agreement, leading Y/N through the crowd towards the door. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, a sense of closure settled over them. They walked back to Y/N's dorm together, San and Mingi walked ahead goofing off with one another. Meanwhile, Yunho and Y/N stayed behind, each had one arm wrapped around the other as they walked. 

"So....boyfriend huh?" Yunho teased her, lightly bumping his hip into hers. Y/N smiled softly,

"Yeah, boyfriend." She confirmed. Yunho stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. "What?" She asked. 

"That's it? No smart comment, no back tracking, none of it?" Y/N chuckled, the sound light and warm in the quiet of the night. She stopped walking as well, turning to face Yunho with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Well, what can I say? You've won me over," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere. "You're stuck with me now."

Yunho grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle and intimate. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured softly.

They stood there for a moment, the night air crisp around them, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. The streetlights cast a soft glow over them as they resumed walking, their steps falling into an easy rhythm. Yunho glanced at her with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, does this mean I get to meet your friends officially now? I'm ready to face the squad."

Y/N chuckled, nodding in agreement. "If you can handle Chaeyeon then yeah, I think they'll be eager to meet you, especially after tonight." Just as Yunho leaned down to kiss her, the sound of a yelp and thud disrupted them. 

"Damnit San. Yo Yunho, come help me man." Looking to the boys, San was somehow now sprawled out on the ground and laughing in hysterics. Yunho sighed and looked down to you again. 

"We're coming back to this, promise." He gave her a quick peck on the lips before running to help Mingi lift San up. 

"San, you lightweight," Yunho teased with a grin, but there was genuine concern in his voice as he steadied his friend. "You okay?"

San nodded, still chuckling. "I'm good, I'm good. Just need a minute to get my bearings."

Mingi rolled his eyes playfully. "You're lucky we're here to babysit you."

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the series, it means a lot to see so many people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @bts-army380 @ssrnghwa @philijack @laurenwidjaja

[artaxlivs]

This is ridiculous.

Eddie has important stuff To Do. He's a busy rockstar with a never ending list of stuff his manager and agent keep reminding him that he needs to get done while he's not on tour.

But. His house is being remodeled. And one of the carpenters or handymen or journey...men? journey people? whatever. One of the dudes in a tool belt. Well - he's hot as all hell and Eddie can't seem to find a single fuck to mark off that To Do list.

Every day this man shows up in jeans that hug his ass, a tool belt slung low to one side and this pristine white polo shirt with a logo over his left pec. The other people - people not men because there are actually three women in the mix, all with arms that could crush Eddie, and if he was into chicks, he'd be looking respectfully - are all in various dark colored shirts with a similar logo on the back or in the same spot on the chest.

But White Polo is the only white polo. White Polo must be in charge. He does seem to give a lot of orders. He's got big sexy hair and a strong voice. The first time Eddie was close enough to hear him talk, he had some feelings about that strong voice giving orders. The kind of feelings he explored later that night in his own bed. Alone.

It's not a mean voice though, not aggressive. Rather, it's the kind of voice that steadies you in a storm, that you can rely on. The kind of voice that probably sounds gravelly and sleep mussed on a Saturday morning. The kind you want to wake up to. The voice that Eddie wants to wake up to.

And it's not just the voice and the looks. It's the competency, too. Earlier this morning, White Polo was helping the crew put some kind of wood frame up. He hammered something in and then twirled the hammer and stuffed it in the tool belt all without looking. That was going directly to Eddie's spank bank. Maybe he could find other things for them to remodel so White Polo never has to leave.

"Mr. Munson?"

Eddie startles, almost dropping his Garfield coffee mug. There's a lot of noise in the house and he was sort of doing one of the things on his list. Writing a song in his head. It was definitely not about a man in a tool belt. Nor was it about anyone getting nailed.

Jesus Christ.

Clearing his throat, Eddie turns to White Polo, "It's just Eddie."

"Well, Just Eddie, I'm Steve." His voice is soft, strong though, with that little bit of gravel. It's not Eddie's fault at all that he's imagining him whispering in Eddie's ear when they're both sleep warm and too comfortable to get out of bed. "Looks like we'll be done here in another two days."

"Oh." He says dejectedly, not meaning to have such an honest reaction but he can't help himself. He's wasted three days just glancing at White Polo - Steve - from afar. Now Eddie's on a time limit. Two days isn't nearly enough time. Would it be inappropriate to invite him to dinner? Or to stay? Ask him for --"Coffee?"

Steve smiles and it's kind of small, like it's a secret smile, just for Eddie. Brushing his hair back over his ear, Steve says, "I shouldn't but...your coffee smells kinda great so...sure."

Grinning, Eddie tells him that he gets the beans from this little mom and pop shop that brews their own beans. The band discovered them on tour years ago and he still gets his beans shipped from them every few months. He's babbling but he can't seem to stop himself, telling Steve about different roasts and his fancy machine that cost more than his first van back when he was sixteen and living in a trailer park.

Leaning against the counter, Steve listens patiently, watching Eddie with hazel eyes and that little smile. He's got these cute moles that Eddie wants to kiss. Broad shoulders he wants to feel pressed up against the backs of his knees.

Shit. He almost spills the coffee when his face suddenly heats up at that.

"Everything okay?" There's concern in Steve's voice and he reaches out to steady Eddie's arm. His callused fingers brush Eddie's arm just over his bat tattoo and...oh.

It's like nothing he's ever imagined. So much more than all the stories. It's the biggest, brightest, most intense thing Eddie's ever felt. Just a brush of fingertips and the spots light up with gold. Three brushes across the bats' wings and a fourth smaller one off to the side. Eddie can feel the tingling on the underside of his forearm where Steve's thumb must have brushed as well.

Surging forward, Eddie cups Steve's cheek, leaving a bright gold palm print on his jaw, a thumb smear up by the cheek bone, bits of gold in the shapes of fingers curling along the side of his throat, and one little dab on the lobe of Steve's ear. Their lips are pressed together before Steve's fully reacted to the soul bond but that's okay. They don't have two days, they've got forever.

A few years later, when Corroded Coffin wins album of the year at the Grammys, Gareth takes the mic away from Eddie as he's doing all the polite thank yous to managers and agents etc - and he thanks Steve, telling the world, "If Steve had never been a hot guy in a tool belt, Eddie would never have written Golden Bats, Hammer of Love or, Eddie's favorite," Gareth says, grinning and leaning really close to the mic like it's a secret, 'cause it kind of is, "Ride the White Polo."

My Masterlist

While there are other gold touch soulmate mark fics, I've only ever read them in @kangofu-cb's Gold on Your Fingertips in the Winterhawk fandom and it will always be both one of my favorite soulmate fics and one of my favorite Clint Barton fics.

[mischievousandquestionable]

step brother choso x reader summary -> you know you can always rely on your step brother to take care of you wc -> 1.5k warnings -> pseudo incest. unprotected sex. maybe slight coercion? but not really? creampie. cursing. nsfw -> mdni. dead dove. do not eat.

all your boyfriends ever do is cheat on you, lie to you, and take you for granted. you're so tired of giving them everything— every part of yourself— only for them to make a fool out of you.

after your most recent breakup, you came to realize that the only man you can truly rely on is your step brother.

ever since you were children, he's taken care of you, he's listened to you cry, he's made sure you know you're his number one priority.

so when you come home to the apartment the two of you share and find him sitting on the couch, you really can't help yourself.

it doesn't necessarily catch him off guard when you crawl into his lap, your thighs situated on either side of his frame. the two of you have always cuddled.

you're wearing a dress, so your cotton panties and his sweatpants are the only thing separating you from one another. the thought makes you feel dizzy.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head absentmindedly. "you okay?"

you make a small noise and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

you can't see the concerned frown that graces his features. "what's wrong?"

when you don't answer, his hand slides up your thigh before coming to rest on your hip. he gives it a gentle squeeze. "c'mon, talk to me princess."

"wan' you," you finally mumble against his skin.

this makes him chuckle. "you've got me."

"no, cho."

"what d'ya mean? 'm all yours, you know that."

you so desperately want to experience what it's like to be with someone you trust. who won't hurt you. who actually loves you.

but you can't bring yourself to say that. you can't admit to your step brother that you've been dreaming about his cock all day.

so you opt to grind yourself against him instead, and while the movement is short and apprehensive, you still feel his body stiffen beneath you.

"...what are you doing?"

your hands move to grab the fabric of his t-shirt weakly. "want you so bad."

he swallows thickly at your confession, finally understanding the intention behind your words, but he doesn't move a single muscle.

your eyes sting, interpreting his silence as rejection, and you're filled with shame.

however, when you pull back just enough to look at his face, you're surprised by the expression you find there.

his eyes are dark, lust and desire swimming in his purple irises. his hand reaches up, and he uses his thumb to wipe away the single tear that slides down your cheek.

"we can't," he murmurs.

another tear escapes your eye and it's like you've plunged a knife through his heart. he hates seeing you sad, and he'd do anything to stop it.

his hand curls around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. it's painfully brief, your lips just barely brushing against one another's.

"we can't," he repeats, his breath fanning across your face. "'m sorry."

"why not?" you sniffle. "i love you. love you so much. love you more than anyone—"

choso can't help it when he presses his lips to yours. you grind yourself against him once more, guiding his free hand to rest on your other hip.

he mumbles your name lowly, and it sounds something like a warning.

though, his body seems to be at odds with his words because you can feel him hardening beneath you.

"p-please, cho," you whimper. "need you so bad."

god, how is he supposed to think straight when you're talking to him like that?

you're so fucking needy. always have been.

and he's spent years scolding himself for the way his dick twitches whenever you give him that pouty look, or whenever you whine his name.

his grip on your hips tightens and you almost expect him to push you away, but he pulls you against himself further, his hips bucking up almost imperceptibly.

the gasp it pulls from your lips melts whatever remains of his resolve.

"you can only sit on it, 'kay? can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

"y-yes!"

he's trying desperately to rationalize the situation, like that will somehow make it less disgusting. it's not that bad if he lets his step sister warm his cock. it's not like he's actually fucking you.

his hand wanders, shifting your panties to the side and running a finger up your slit. honestly, he'd wonder if this was some cruel joke if not for what he finds there.

"so messy," he groans. "this all for me, sweetheart?"

you hide your face in his neck, suddenly feeling shy, and offer him a nod in response.

and while he thinks it's cute, he won't let you off the hook that easy. "use your words."

"y-yes, cho. all for you."

"good." he hooks a finger beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging at it before letting it snap back against your skin. "take these off."

when you stand up and quickly slide them down your legs, he pushes his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock.

it slaps against his stomach. he's so thick that if you wrapped your hand around him, your fingers would struggle to meet.

straddling him eagerly, your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself.

when you lower yourself onto his cock, a pressure begins to build in your stomach, and it gets worse with every inch.

"so big," you cry. "h-hurts—"

"shhhh. it's okay, baby. you're doing so good."

you look down to where the two of you are connected, letting out a shaky breath once you reach the hilt.

"see? i told you. such a good girl."

his praise makes you feel hot. it makes you crave more friction, even though you feel so impossibly full already.

you lift yourself up an inch or so before slowly sliding back down on his cock.

he groans your name. "don't."

"want more," you whine. "wanna make you feel good."

"shit, princess. you already are."

you pepper his face with a few kisses, starting at the corner of his mouth, then moving to his cheek and the spot below his ear.

"nii-chan," you murmur, clenching around his cock. "please."

it's not something you call him that frequently now that you're older, and you can tell it has the effect you intended when his eyes gloss over.

you lift yourself a few inches, then drop back down into his lap.

he tries to say your name, but he chokes on the first syllable when you repeat the action.

his hands fly to your hips after the third time. "stop it. we can't."

and you try to do as he asks, you try to stop, but he doesn't realize that his hands are guiding your movements now, ensuring that you don't stop riding him in spite of his words.

his head falls back against the couch, his mouth parted in miserable ecstasy.

"fuck. fuck." his own hips are moving now, thrusting up desperately. "this pussy is perfect. so fucking tight."

his eyes shift down to where he's buried inside you.

"look at that messy cunt swallowing my cock, princess," he grunts. "you were made for me, you know that?"

you hum in response, his words making the coil in your stomach grow taut. he picks up the pace when he feels you clamp down on him.

"y-yeah," you answer breathlessly. "just for you."

"i wanna feel you cum around this cock, can you do that for me?"

"close," you squeak out, your eyes screwed shut.

his hand reaches between your bodies to toy with your clit and that's all it takes to push you over the edge.

the orgasm that crashes through is so intense that your legs tremble and your vision goes white. choso's name falls from your lips over and over like a broken prayer.

you can't bring yourself to move, so he holds your hips in place and fucks up into you. when his thrusts grow sloppy, you claw at his biceps in anticipation.

"please don't pull out. please."

"sweetheart, you know i have to—"

"please," you cry again. "need it so bad. love you s'much nii-chan, just wanna be stuffed full of your cum—"

even if he really did want to pull out, he doesn't get the chance because your words make your step brother blow his load right then and there.

a strangled moan erupts from somewhere deep in his chest and you fall forward against his body, resting your chin on his shoulder.

his arms move to wrap around your frame and you're so blissfully fucked out, you're sure you've never been this content in your life.

"i love you," you murmur again.

suddenly, choso doesn't care if he goes to hell for this. this moment is the only slice of heaven he'll ever need.

"i love you too, baby." his lips find the top of your head. "so much."

[atinystraynstay]

Game Night - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Jeonghan was the type of guy who joked around, the type to be not so serious. I guess that's why you never took his flirting to be anything more than him trying to get you to laugh. Jeonghan was now determined to make you see differently.

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem reader

Genre: friends to lovers! playful competitiveness with Jeonghan

Word Count: 1.8k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

"So, y/n, what are the chances of you letting me be yours for the night?" Jeonghan asked teasingly. "Maybe when you learn to stop cheating at Guess Who!" You groaned.

It was a typical Sunday night for you and Jeonghan. You two always had game nights together, ever since you can remember. Both of you were quite competitive, so you were equal competitors for one another. At this point, most of the members have given up on playing against Jeonghan anyways.

Jeonghan and you had become good friends over the past few years. However, you never believed Jeonghan was into you. He sometimes liked to flirt with people because he thrived on making people feel uncomfortable for a second before making them laugh. He definitely was a trickster.

Recently though, Jeonghan didn't see his flirting towards you as just teasing. He was starting to realize he was starting to like you. More than a friend. It took a lot to scare Jeonghan but what scared him the most was you ever finding out about his little secret. If anything, he amplified his flirting with you to try to keep his crush concealed for a little bit longer.

He was sure he would tell you eventually. He just didn't know when.

"I can't help that you are bad at dropping hints. Seriously, y/n. You make it too easy for me!"

You rolled your eyes at Jeonghan's antics. To anyone, they might find his confidence insufferable. However, to you, you found it endearing. Jeonghan was the man who could be silent when he needed to be, especially when encountering new experiences and new people. When he was comfortable and relaxed, he let his true colors shine.

You were just blessed to be one of the lucky ones who got to experience his entire rainbow.

"Okay, let's actually play this time. Honest and fair." "Honest and fair."

I his mind, the gears were turning. Sure, he wanted to win the game but he had an alternative motive. A lot was on the line.

"Have you selected who I am going to guess right?" You asked challengingly.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes playfully but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Whenever he was around you, he found himself smiling brighter than ever before. You just managed to pull that side out of him oh so easily.

He also has never encountered someone who was maybe just as competitive as he was.

"Yeah, angel. I'm ready to watch you get frustrated. You're really cute when you get flustered, you know? I always love the way your nose scrunches up and you get a bit red in the face." "That doesn't happen,' you lied. "Oh right, it doesn't when it is with anyone else. I guess I just have that effect over you," he snickered.

You could feel your cheeks heating up the more he spoke. It didn't help he was staring you down with that smug grin on his face.

God, why does he have to be so damn attractive?

"Shut up," you muttered. "Let's just play, ok?"

He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. He was easily amused by how easily he could make you crumble.

One of the very first things that Jeonghan noticed about you was how independent you were. You weren't afraid to call people out on their bullshit, and always felt the freedom to voice your opinion. You weren't the type of person who needed to rely on others to do something.

It was quite the treat to watch you lose your train of thought if he just looked at you. You often forgot what you were going to say the moment Jeonghan said something flirtatious to you. He almost didn't register the possibility of you liking him back until he noticed how you looked away to try to conceal the wide smile on your lips and pink blush coating your cheeks.

The two of you have been doing this waltz around confessing your feelings for a while now. And frankly, Jeonghan was getting tired of playing that game. He wanted something new.

"Pretty ladies first," Jeonghan announced.

There you go again, blushing at his words. It was almost too easy.

"Does your person have facial hair?"

He took a moment to act as if he he had to think about it. You raised an eyebrow, knowing that he was up to something but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Oh come on, Hannie, we just started. There's no way you forgot already who your character is," you teased.

His heart fluttered every time you called him that petname. A lot of people called him Hannie. But when you say it? It was music to his ears. It made him feel all warm and tingly at the prospective of him being exclusively yours and you being all his.

"No, my character doesn't. I was just trying to make you annoyed again," he snickered.

You rolled your eyes but kept a light smile on your lips. Anyone else would be underneath your skin, but he just had this way of finding his antics endearing. Your pointer finger got to work at flipping down the 8 characters you successfully eliminated.

"So, my sweet girl," he began. Oh, here we go. "Does your character have glasses?"

You smirked as he guessed incorrectly. You looked up at him with this look of amusement on your face. Honestly, he has never found you more attractive than when you let your competitive side free. He liked a challenge.

And getting to be your man was his greatest challenge yet.

"No strike, buddy. Better luck next time."

You and Jeonghan continued going back and forth like this for a few rounds. Jeonghan had still had six character cards flipped up, whereas you only had one. You were about to go in for the kill.

"Is your person Charlotte?"

Finally! You beat Jeonghan!

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's incorrect," he smirked.

Your eyes grew wide as they flickered between the game board and Jeonghan. That was impossible. You had literally one character card left. Your eyes narrowed on him as he just sat there with a wide grin on his lips. He had his elbows resting on the table as he watched I amusement.

"You said honest and fair this time," you whined. "And I have been honest! You were asking for my person, and all the things you were asking did not match up with who I selected." "Oh really now? Okay smartass, prove it."

Gladly.

Very slowly, Jeonghan got up to make his way over to you. You raised an eyebrow, but with each step he took towards you, your heart beats faster and harder. What was he doing? You wanted to question him but you were drawn speechless. Again. Only Yoon Jeonghan could make you tongue-tied. It was as if you were glued to your seat too as you watched him make the short journey from his end of the table towards yours.

"I'll describe my person to you. Maybe you accidentally flipped them down."

His voice was now softer, almost deeper. What is going on? All you could do was nod your head, eyes trained on him in anticipation.

"My person also has these eyes that quite literally are like two disco balls. They capture whatever light is reflected into them. I can't even tell you what color their eyes are because I've never see a shade like it before. But it is my favorite color." He had now approached your side the table, leaning against it as he looked down at you. "And just as bright of a smile to match."

You wanted to melt into a puddle before him with how warm and fuzzy he makes you feel by just doing the simplest of things. It wasn't fair.

"My person has long hair. Sometimes they curl it, somewhat they straighten it. Each time though, I want to run my fingers through it."

As he spoke, he lifted on hand to run through your hair. He tucked a few strands behind your ear. His fingertips moved forward until they grazed against your cheek. He didn't miss the opportunity to cup your cheek, keeping your head tilted up towards him so you couldn't look away no matter how badly you got flustered.

"My person also has this infectious laughter that makes me want to know every little joke, every little secret they might have. She also has this adventurous, competitive side of her that is so attractive. I think you two would get along just fine," he winked.

Your lips were slightly parted as you gazed up at him. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way this was actually happening.

"Y/n, you asked for my person. It's been you this whole time," he whispered.

For the first time, he seemed almost at a loss for words. It as if he couldn't believe he actually confessed to you. And now that his feelings were out in the open, he was afraid of the repercussions of being so vulnerable with you. His biggest fear was losing you, and he was afraid he was heading in that direction.

Slowly, you stood up. In fear, Jeonghan removed his hand from your face. Fuck, how can I fix this?

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he didn't hesitate to hold your waist. He looked at you with excitement now in eyes, almost like a little boy on Christmas Day. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable he looked.

"What are you waiting for, Hannie? You've got me where you've always wanted to me," you whispered.

He didn't need to be told twice. Ever so gently, as if you were made out of glass, he pressed his lips against yours. He couldn't fight the smile that grew on his lips. He squeezed your hips affectionately before pulling you in closer. You tilted your head at the right angle to kiss him deeply, without holding back anymore.

The feeling was indescribable. It was a mixture of joy and relief, knowing that years of pining after you finally amounted to this moment. He could really let every emotion, every thought of you free and not just dwell in his mind. And the best part was that it was reciprocated.

You were the one to break the kiss at first but kept your face close to his. You wore a similar goofy smile, just as in disbelief that you kissed not only your best but but the man of your dreams.

"I can't believe you used a board game to confess your feelings to me." "But it looks like I won after all," he smirked.

You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up to press your lips against his again.

[evasive-anon]

Jason was having a pretty OK time with the league of assassins, sure getting dunked in a lazarus pit sucked and Bruce turned out to be a scumbag who didn't care about him, but at least he isn't dead. He even liked most of the new skills he was learning there so on the whole being with the league seemed like a pretty good deal to him until Talia woke him up in the middle of the night and left him alone with two child assassins.

Or, a demon twins AU where when Talia realizes her father intends to have her boys fight to the death takes action first by deciding to take all her kids and leave the league. Talia either dies or is separated from them in the initial escape and now Jason just has a bag of supplies and a letter from Talia explaining the plan to get to Gotham. Jason has to get himself and two 7 year olds out of the Himalayas, across a desert, and over 12k miles to Gotham. Only now the league members hunting them down want them dead or worse and Jason isn't too confident that B will accept them given their kill counts.

Featuring:

Good Mom Talia. she loves her kids. Did she teach them to kill? Sure, but that's an important life skill.

Single Teen Mom Jason. He's the oldest and in charge but he also will not answer any questions about The Plan™ given he isn't committed to Talia's but also doesn't have a set alternative. Oscillates between looking forward to just dumping his new little brothers with Bruce so they'll be his problem and thinking of just moving somewhere random in the US and keeping them based entirely on how cute vs annoying they are at that time. Didn't realize how much he relied on Talia to help him with things until she is gone. He's really trying his best but he wasn't all that emotionally stable before this so hang in there.

Angry Smol Dami. He's still drinking the LoS punch and really dislikes that he is now considered a traitor. Can't stand that Jason won't answer any of his very relevant questions. Is actually very scared but will not show it. Misses his mom. Didn't even know he had siblings until his mom yoinked him out of bed that night and brought him to Jason and Danny and started all this. Physically the stronger twin. Thinks Danny is dragging them down in fights and also may blame him a bit because clearly his mother only did all this to spare him.

Danny, reincarnated with limited access to his memories and powers. Has been trying to keep his powers a secret. Talia knew about them but never told anyone but she may have hinted at it in her letter to Jason. Not the strongest physically but very good at stealth and social interactions. Didn't know he had and older brother or twin before Jason woke him up at Talia's instruction that night. Thinks Damian is mean and has faith Jason knows what he's doing even if that is very much untrue.

[writingsbychlo]

when you hold me | azriel

summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it. word count; 17,202 notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.

so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?

he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.

even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.

he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.

not really someone who cuddles, y’know?

now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.

cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.

so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.

all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.

rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.

a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.

mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.

with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.

going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.

he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.

he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")

he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")

he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.

basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.

and then you step into his life.

it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.

in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.

nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.

mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.

elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.

feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.

and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.

and he doesn't have anyone.

everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.

hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.

behind them is you.

azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.

you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.

his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.

your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.

he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.

azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.

(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.

he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien. 

azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.

you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.

is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?

phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.

his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.

he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.

"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."

"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.

you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."

he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.

"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”

your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.

he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”

you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-

and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”

was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time. 

you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”

“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”

“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”

he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.

“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.” 

“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you. 

then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek. 

and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.

“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.

“I'd like that, very much.”

“until tomorrow, then.”

you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.

hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps. 

your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own. 

his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone. 

however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came. 

his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.

he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.

azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.

“something got you all wound up, brother?”

“bite me.”

“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”

there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart. 

“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.” 

you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.

cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.

he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.

“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-” 

you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.

he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.

your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.

“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;

“mhmm..”

nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.

you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.

the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little. 

“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.” 

“told you so.”

your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.

“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”

“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway. 

“you think I don’t know how to fight?”

“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”

“you can tell? how?”

“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”

you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.

“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”

“uh-huh.” 

“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“I’m not disputing that.”

“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”

he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly. 

you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.

what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.

“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”

“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”

“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”

azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough. 

he choked that down, too.

“what would I get out of that deal?”

“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.

unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.

“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”

brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.

it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.

you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.

“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.

“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”

a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence. 

“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”

he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.

you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around. 

azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.

for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.

he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.

every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.

except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.

azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them. 

he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.

even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.

everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.

he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.

he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.

he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.

after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.

but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.

it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.

it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.

the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough. 

you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side. 

there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.

flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.

the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.

“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”

they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried. 

blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen. 

stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.

cassian hissed as he returned.

nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.

neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.

over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.

cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.

“let me look at your ankle, cass.”

you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.

“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”

“let me look.”

“no.”

“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”

silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.

he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.

swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.

“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”

“what about you?”

“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.

cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.

“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”

your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.

“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”

‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that. 

your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.

“you’re all done.”

he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.

“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”

your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.

something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.

“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”

the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.

cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping. 

“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”

he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.

the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.

you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body. 

you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry. 

settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.

settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one. 

you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath. 

you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.

he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.

he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck. 

he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it. 

you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.

instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly. 

you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.

nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.

“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”

“where’s azriel? cassian?”

her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”

you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.

“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a  good dream.”

“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”

“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.

“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.” 

“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.

“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.

he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.

“az, how are you feeling?”

“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.

he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier. 

letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.

when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction. 

and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.

“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.

“I trust that won’t happen again.”

you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.

“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”

“that is your job, is it not?”

the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.

“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”

he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.

“(Y/N)-”

“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”

look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.

it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.

the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.

hurt.

azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.

hurt.

who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.

hurt. hurt. hurt.

you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.

his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.

hurthurthurthurth-

his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.

“what happened?”

“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”

lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.

“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”

“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”

“you’re not just-”

“lucien, please.”

he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.

“what was that?”

“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.

“how bad was it?”

“bad.”

“what. happened?”

he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.

“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”

cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.

“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”

“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”

his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.

you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.

that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.

you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.

he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.

two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.

“hello.” 

azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.

“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”

lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him. 

slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him. 

accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-

his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.

he would talk to you after he’d eaten.

the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.

he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see. 

“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."

he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.

“please, don’t shut me out.”

you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little. 

“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”

“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”

you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”

you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.

“I like to be touched,”

he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.

“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”

you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.

“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.

“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”

you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.

“you know, we all have our love languages.”

“our what?”

“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”

“five?”

“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”

“what about feyre?”

“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”

“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”

“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”

he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense. 

“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”

somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.

“what is yours?”

“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”

you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind. 

as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”

he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.

you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty. 

he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore. 

almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.

no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.

the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.

he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground. 

he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it. 

he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;

standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.

“az. would you like to come in?”

“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.

your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.

“can I..?”

you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.

“do you want to lay with me while I read?”

“you mean, like we did that night?”

“if you want.”

he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.

slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.

one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.

shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.

“I-.. I’m scared.”

“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated. 

he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.

and then his shoulders did.

his chest.

he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.

he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often. 

he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.

he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave. 

and you let him.

every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.

when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-

it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.

there was no way he could move now.

he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.

it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.

when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was. 

you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.

instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.

“you stayed.”

“is that okay?”

“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

“I haven’t slept that well ever.”

azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.

you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”

he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.

eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.

but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room. 

you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down. 

“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”

he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.

“I was sleeping.”

“sleeping?”

“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”

“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.

“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.

something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.

his head spun. 

right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him. 

he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.

he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.

and so, it continued just like that.

you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day. 

you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.

and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.

more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.

it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason. 

he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.

he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.

you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second. 

“az, you’re back! how was it?”

“shit.”

“did you get it done?”

“of course.”

“good. join us. do you want a drink?”

he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.

you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again. 

“az, are you hurt?”

it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.

he didn’t care, not anymore.

“no.”

at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.

he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor. 

he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs. 

he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.

rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.

“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”

“whiskey, three fingers.”

“you got it.”

you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.

you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily. 

“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.

“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.

“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”

“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.

rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.

sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.

“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”

“what?! no, we were not!”

“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..” 

cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.

his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.

his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.

for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story. 

he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him. 

he’d never felt so settled.

that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.

he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled. 

“big step you took tonight.”

“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”

“I’m proud of you.”

his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.

“what?”

“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”

he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.

you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”

he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile. 

in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop. 

in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked. 

after that night, a line had been crossed.

he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.

he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.

you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head. 

you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.

“what’s wrong, angel?”

“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional. 

“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”

the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.

“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”

his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.

azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.

you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you. 

he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal. 

“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him. 

“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”

“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”

“I- uh, okay.”

“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”

“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"

“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”

you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement. 

“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”

“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”

rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.

“see you soon.”

he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand. 

on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”

“more than alright.”

“want to tell me about it?”

“not yet.” 

“in that case, good luck.”

az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.

and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.

lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.

now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.

azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept. 

he simply couldn't get enough. 

after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.

you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.

you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.

you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.

and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.

whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.

and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too. 

cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.

rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too. 

but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch. 

and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.

he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair. 

it had been utterly perfect.

he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him. 

he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest. 

and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home. 

and that terrified him.

it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.

he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.

you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.

“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”

you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.

“you knew?”

a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face. 

he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it. 

rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.

then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.

he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been. 

he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.

“az..”

he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.

“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”

he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.

you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him. 

“azriel.”

he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.

“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”

“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”

“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand. 

“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.

and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.

the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.

he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging. 

there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely. 

he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.

it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised. 

“want to spar about it?”

his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding. 

cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.

then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.

he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.

no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.

“she’s my mate.”

“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.

he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one. 

“you knew as well?”

“yeah.” 

azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.

instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.

“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond  had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”

azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning. 

he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison. 

his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”

“this morning, when we..” 

azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”

“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”

then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.

“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”

he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment. 

“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”

“and?”

sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind. 

“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”

“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”

that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.

“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”

“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel. 

he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.

“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”

“are you serious, azriel?” 

rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.

“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”

“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”

his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him. 

“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”

“harsh, cass.”

“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”

azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.

“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”

something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.

his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.

the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.

if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..

“oh, gods..”

“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.

“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”

“you deserve it!”

he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.

he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.

“do you think I should-”

“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”

“OKAY, OKAY.”

it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog. 

once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts. 

he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.

he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.

he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him. 

“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”

his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.

“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.

“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”

“az, she’s not in there.”

“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.

“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.

“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?” 

elain only shrugged once more. 

“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.” 

she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.

he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears. 

“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”

she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.

so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him. 

it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“not really.”

“talk about it.”

“okay.” 

he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.

“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”

“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”

“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”

elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”

he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now. 

“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”

“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”

her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.

that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again. 

then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked. 

the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.

the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him. 

for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.

he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating. 

he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood. 

he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.

azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it. 

but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.

it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. 

his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.

the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.

his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.

a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-

“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse. 

concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.

“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”

that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else. 

elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.

“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it. 

“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”

gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.

before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.

“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”

the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself. 

he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.

the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.

for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about. 

you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.

as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.

you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.

“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”

he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”

you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”

well, there goes that relief.

his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.

he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.

there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”

“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”

you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time. 

he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks. 

one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.

“I’m so sorry, angel.”

“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”

he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning. 

“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”

you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.

“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”

he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”

“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”

“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”

you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently. 

“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”

“you sure you still want me?”

“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”

“I love you.”

azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.

you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.

“you ready for bed?”

“..yes.”

“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”

“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.” 

he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.

while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck. 

it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled. 

“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”

“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.

love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him. 

you shifted again.

“az, honey, please-”

“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.

“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”

“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”

pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.

“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”

“no winning with you, huh?”

“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.” 

he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you. 

with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”

“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.

“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”

“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”

“much better.”

“we can cuddle now.”

he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.

after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.

azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.

“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”

his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.

it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted. 

it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.

“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”

[beanghostprincess]

I am obsessed with Nirei and Sakura's dynamic because, from the very beginning, their characters start to develop around each other. Whether it's in a shipping way or not, their characters as we know them now wouldn't exist without the other. They're both each other's guiding lights.

Like.

Quite literally:

Nirei makes it his life purpose to help Sakura reach the top because he has been the first one to believe in him and help him out without making him feel weak. And not only that, but Nirei instantly knows Sakura has a good heart. Which is not a hard thing to do because this guy's emotions are displayed in plain sight (as much as he tries to hide it), but Nirei doesn't only realize Sakura's a good person, he also believes he needs help. Yes, Sakura fights for him when they first meet, but Nirei is the (first) one to follow him, acknowledge him as the next one at the top, and be his friend. Because he is what Nirei wants to become and what he wants to protect. He sees Sakura as the future. As a kind soul. As what the town (and himself) needs.

Sakura as a main character has always fascinated me, honestly. And his introduction to his relationship with Nirei might be the most cliché thing of all (ohhh bad guys are beating this guy I just met up. Guess I will have to fight them because I actually have a good heart!!!). But it's so much more!!! Sakura sees Nirei for who he actually is despite his lack of strength and ability to fight. He has ambition. A wish. An unstoppable desire to protect the town and become the type of man he admires so much. And I believe Sakura sees that as something he can actually relate to. As strength. Nirei is the first one to follow him willingly and believe in him, too. He's the first one to reach out. And whether Sakura likes it or not doesn't even matter because Nirei is what he needs. He's someone Sakura knows he can rely on despite his looks.

They both show strengths the other can rely on and appreciate. Sakura is good when it comes to fighting but a whole mess socially and emotionally because he has always been on his own. Nirei is good whenever they need information or emotional support and he just understands people because he watches them, while not being good at fighting. But they both share the same amount of ambition and are able to support each other in countless ways. They lift each other up. They're quite literally written for each other, in my opinion.

They also share insecurities. They know what it means to feel weak. Nirei knows what it is to feel physically hurt and bruised and what it is to carry the weight of the team because he feels like a burden for not being able to help in the same way as the others when he so desperately wants to. While Sakura knows what it is to feel emotionally abandoned, hurt, and lonely, while he also carries the weight of the team on his shoulders because he doesn't let others help him with the burden.

And they are both so, so stubborn. Nirei doesn't tell Sakura he's training and learning to fight behind his back because he'd feel even worse. And Sakura doesn't tell Nirei about feeling like a burden and a bad leader himself, because that'd only make him worse (than he believes he is). But they so desperately wish to help each other in so, so many ways.

Sakura would physically fight anyone who hurt Nirei. He has been protecting him from the very beginning without almost any hesitation. He met his guiding light and proceeded to never let him go. Nirei, on the other hand, is so protective emotionally of Sakura, always caring for him and longing to reach out and get him out of the dark because he can't see he is Nirei's guiding light too.

They're also so, so bad at showing these things. Because Sakura keeps protecting Nirei and keeping him out of fights but that only ever makes Nirei feel like he should be doing something else to help (Sakura only wants to keep him safe because he is precious to him). Nirei wants to reach out to Sakura and shower him with all the love he refuses to ask for but doesn't because doing so would only make Sakura overwhelmed (he has been holding himself back for so long, I swear).

I don't want to talk about this much because I meant to make a post about this, but... Nirei has been holding back his love and care for Sakura for so damn long (shout out to @/cantdrawtosavemylife for saying this actually) and in chapter 146 I swear he just couldn't hold it in anymore and ended up doing a love confession mid-battle. "It's not a love conf-" to me it is. Shut up. I love them.

So what I was saying--

Their characters truly develop thanks to each other.

Sakura learns to care and love for others thanks to all the characters, really, but you can't ignore the favoritism he has towards protecting Nirei and the guilt he specifically feels whenever he gets hurt.

And how he goes from: "Nirei, don't fight"

To: "Okay, I will trust him. I count on you, Nirei"

In like, two pages.

And yes, it's thanks to other characters too that Sakura manages to trust others and not fight completely on his own, lending some control to his friends. But it's the trust he has in Nirei's (and Suo's!!) words that make him improve so much emotionally.

Nirei's quite literally Sakura's heart and logic who can finally make the mess inside of him make sense.

Ohh, but Sakura is Nirei's future, too. His strength. His ambition.

Nirei learns to stand up for himself only because he wants to help Sakura get to the top. Because he promised him. Not only because of that of course, he already wanted to be stronger before meeting Sakura and other characters believe in him too, but now he has somebody to support and fight for.

So he starts only being able to help him out with his brain and heart.

To now be able to at least defend himself properly in a fight so Sakura can keep going forward without looking back.

And not only that! He's now able to fight his fears and be ready to face whoever if it means Sakura won't do it on his own.

And everything because Sakura trusts him.

And I could keep talking about how they're each other's guiding lights and bring out the best of one another. I could mention all the times they spend together which is, like, idk, every damn chapter because if you separate them they might die. I could talk for hours about how their characters wouldn't exist without each other and how Nirei (and Suo. Never forget Suo. I love you, king) will forever be Sakura's right-hand man. Etc etc etc.

Buuuuuut I got tired of writing so I'll just say:

Nirei sees the good heart in Sakura and Sakura sees the strength in Nirei and their dynamic is my favorite thing from this manga.

[justwinginglife]

The Unwitting Confession

Inspired by my bestie @ectopodl3, thanks for always matching my freak, love ya!

It had been roughly 6 months since Soshiro Hoshina joined the Third Division as its Vice Captain and it was an eventful 6 months to say the least. Everyone had been clambering over each other to get a good look at the new Vice Captain and even now they were still on the fence about what they saw. The poor guy had to fight twice as hard as anyone else to prove he deserved the spot and some people still required more evidence from him. For 6 long months, he took on whatever grueling task he could get his hands on to show the world that he was more than capable to lead a division. And for 6 long months, you were right there in the trenches beside him.

You had been both Captain Ashiro's favorite platoon leader and close personal friend for awhile now, so when she had made the decision to invite Hoshina to the Third Division, you fully supported it (in fact, you were the only one who supported it). Because of this, she relied heavily on you to help him transition into his new role.

You made quite the impression on him from day one. You knew everyone else would be skeptical of him and Mina was counting on you to make him feel comfortable, so you went a little overboard in welcoming him. That day, he arrived at his new office to find his desk covered in all manner of drinks- coffee, juice, milk, water, smoothie, soda. You had just placed the final can on his desk when he came in looking quite shocked. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. "Well this is certainly one way to meet you Vice Captain," you laughed. "I couldn't figure out what kind of drink you liked so I bought them all." You gestured to the gifts you'd laid out for him.

You thought he would just keep staring at you all day like some strange circus attraction but then to your surprise, he started laughing uncontrollably. His eyes filled with tears and he even had to steady a hand on the doorframe to keep himself from toppling over from the sheer exertion of laughing so hard. "You better help me finish all of this." He said, finally catching his breath, "Hey- what's your name anyway?"

So, despite Mina having drawn up an entire itinerary she had wanted you to follow on his first day (give him a tour, introduce him to the other officers, yada yada), you and Hoshina ended up spending the entire time just talking and drinking in his office.

"Ooh- this one's pretty good, have a sip." You passed the lemonade over to him and he eagerly took it from you.

"Mmm, I like it but the coffee was better." He said as he chugged the drink. "Fuck, now I have to pee." He laughed.

"Hey! I wasn't finished drinking that!" You pouted, watching as he added the empty can to the stack of other empty cans.

He shrugged. "It was my gift, wasn't it?"

"I'm gonna have Mina demote you. I'm thinking cadet."

He laughed again and the feeling in your chest told you the sound was starting to grow on you.

"Please be my guest, I think everyone would be happier if I wasn't the Vice Captain anyway." He said, speaking the first serious thing you'd heard him say all day.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "I wouldn't. You're actually growing on me, Vice Captain. Even if you are a lemonade hog."

There was that laugh of his again. "How 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. I'll stay Vice Captain and I'll bring you a lemonade every now and then if you promise to follow all my orders."

You rolled your eyes and nudged him again, this time leaning into his shoulder. "Now where's the fun in that? I think you'd have such a good time running around trying to keep up with me, why would I want to spoil that for you?"

He grinned and you thought you felt your heart skip a beat. "Alright I think you really oughta show me the bathroom now before you go telling anymore jokes. I can't laugh anymore than I already have without bursting my bladder." He stood up from the floor where you two had been sitting, brushed up against each other, and held a hand out to you. You took it and he hoisted you to your feet.

"I'm supposed to give you a tour anyway so I guess we can start with the bathroom. Wouldn't want the new Vice Captain to pee his pants."

You both took off down the hallway, knocking your shoulders up against each other, and swaying with laughter.

And that was that- friends in an instant.

If people had seen the two of you from afar, they would've thought you'd been friends since birth the way you two were inseparable after that. You wanted to train? Hoshina would follow right behind, eager to knock you down a peg. He wanted to go for a walk? You'd say there's no way in good conscious you could let a little lady like him walk alone so late at night. He'd punch in you in the arm but let you tag along anyway. You wanted to have dinner alone? Too bad- he wanted a bite of your dumpling. No, actually he wanted all of your dumplings. But he bought you some more afterwards.

You'd even have your fair share of arguments- you may have brought up his brother too much (only because you were so curious about his home life) and he may have shot back that the reason you'd been single so long was because you did dumb insensitive shit like bringing up his brother too much. And then you wouldn't speak to each other for days. But then you'd cut yourself and he'd bandage it for you, grumbling that it was inconceivable how a member of the defense force could be so inept with a knife, or his stomach would growl and you'd grumpily hand him your last granola bar, and then everything would slowly go back to normal between you two again. It was all the little things that made you realize you couldn't live without him. And some part of him had to know he couldn't live without you too. Not anymore.

So now, 6 months later, you're on your way to work, texting Hoshina that you bet you'll beat his lazy ass there, and then you see a crowd of news reporters outside the base. Mina had just sent you and Hoshina to dispatch of a large kaiju roaming downtown yesterday and the reporters couldn't believe that he'd took down the beast and not you so they were there for the "real answers." You were so tired of dealing with all the people who couldn't accept how amazing Hoshina was. For months, you talked with reporters, officers, supervisors, and really just anyone who'd listen about how skilled and inspiring Hoshina was but all your effort had been slow to take effect.

Eventually Hoshina caught on that you were fighting all his battles for him behind the scenes and he made you stop. He was so pure and good, he thought he'd just change their minds with his actions. Said he'd win them over eventually if he worked hard enough. It was that kind of thinking that made you love him and made you all the more pissed to hear people shit talking him.

So today, you're fully prepared to tear the crowd a new one (yet again), when you hear a voice from behind you. "Boy they really don't know when to quit do they? It's like, just leave the man alone."

You turn to see a civilian walking up to you, scoffing at the crowd. You're both shocked and pleasantly surprised that someone besides you is defending Hoshina. You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, it's like he's done so much for the city and you want to undermine all of that? It's ridiculous."

The civilian nods. "I was there when he took down that kaiju yesterday, I know he's the real deal. The two of you actually make a pretty good team- are you guys dating?"

You choke on your coffee. "Oh, um, us? No we're- we're not together." You say quickly.

The civilian raises an eyebrow. "So you're telling me you don't find that muscled man attractive? Not in the slightest?"

You blush. "I really shouldn't be talking with you about this. I barely know you."

The civilian laughs. "Oh come on. Woman to woman. Don't tell me you haven't thought about what it would be like."

You sigh. You haven't told anyone how you feel about the Vice Captain, not even Mina. It would be nice to vent it all out. And this is a stranger you'll never see again. Fuck it. "Okay fine. I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it." You shrug as if you're simply reciting a textbook with common knowledge, but inside you're a simple woman who's dying to hear this random civilian tell you more about how you make such a good couple with Hoshina. But this bonding moment is interrupted. By Hoshina.

He's up ahead, across the street from you, and he's yelling and waving at you to hurry up and cross already so you can walk to work together. You excuse yourself, earning a wink and a "go get him tiger" from the stranger, and you run through traffic blushing as you greet him.

"What was that about?" He asks, pointing at the now fading silhouette of the stranger you had just been talking to.

You grin. "Oh nothing- I just met a fan of yours, that's all."

You arrive at work a couple minutes later, Hoshina still demanding for more answers about this so-called fan of his, unaware he even had fans, when suddenly you're greeted at the door by Captain Ashiro herself. She never greets you at the door. And she does not look happy. She looks... constipated? Stressed? You can't quite figure out what face she's making but you realize the face she's making is for you when she finally pulls you into her office and slams the door behind her, shoving her phone at you.

"Mina, Mina what is it, you're scaring me- oh SHIT."

I am completely in love with him but that's a secret okay? Who wouldn't be in love with the guy? He's strong, he's handsome, he's loyal, he's funny, he's dedicated, he steals my food but then he replaces it. I mean he's a catch all around. I just really wish people could see him the way I see him. He's a great guy who really cares about people, and that's all there is to it... to it....that's all there is to it...

You stare at the video of you that's playing on repeat. Notifications flood the phone as you realize you're now going viral with your secret love confession for the Vice Captain.

You think your cheeks might be on fire and your throat is rapidly going dry. You think you might just die. Then it hits you.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Where's Hoshina's phone? Mina, please tell me he hasn't looked at his phone yet. Oh I know- you distract him, I'll break into his phone, I'm sure I have to know the password by now- you know what, I'll just break his phone. Yeah. Then he won't have access to the internet. All will be fixed. Mina? You in?" You trail off as you realize she's looking at the door to her office that's now just opened behind you.

Fuck.

"You wanna tell me what this is about?"

Fuck.

Mina winces. "I think I'll leave you two alone now." She closes the door behind her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You don't turn around. You don't breathe. You don't exist.

"You can't ignore me forever, ya know."

Fuck.

You sigh. You slowly turn around to face your doom.

"Hi. Hoshina. What's up?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't 'what's up' me, what's up with you? What's up with this?" He holds his phone up with the video that's on replay. I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay? I am completely in love with him, but that's a secret okay?

You groan and collapse into Mina's office chair, burying your face in your hands, waiting to die. "Go on. Say what you want." You mumble through your fingers.

You hear him walking up to you and before you have time to think about how mortified you are, he kneels on the ground in front of you and yanks your wrists away from your face. "I want to know if it's true."

You roll your eyes. "Did you not just hear my voice on the video saying I love you? Do you really need to rub it in and hear me say it live?"

He nods sincerely, giving your wrists a squeeze. "I do. I need to hear you say it. I don't care about the news, what I care about is you and right now I need to know how you feel."

You inhale and for a moment you consider not exhaling and just passing out to avoid answering. But then you let out the breath. "It's true. I love you. I've been in love with you. For awhile now."

He smiles softly as if to say everything is okay now and you're lost in the gentle curve of his lips. God you want to taste kiss him so bad.

"Well I'd say I love you too but I don't know if I need a reporter in the room for it to count."

Never mind. You don't want to kiss him anymore. You punch his arm.

He chuckles.

Then he pulls you down to the floor with him and the two of you sit there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, just like you did when you first met. Then he nudges his head up against your shoulder and whispers, "I really do love you."

And now you kiss him.

[the-colourful-witch]

⚡️Harry Potter⚡️

On August 2nd 2023 I posted the character lineup for Harry, our main character, most underrated in his own series... I started with a sketch for Tonks, then did a version of Hermione, Ron and Harry and it just changed my life :) I'm so grateful for each of you and I can't wait to make so much more art with you guys! 🥹💛 Now, to celebrate that one-year (!!!) anniversary, I redrew Harry. I got to experiment a lot the past year with this series and I wanted to use some of my newfound experience for Harry, Merlin knows he deserves a little love. He is so underappreciated in his own series. He's the main character, yet we all love the side characters. It's nothing bad, but we shouldn't be so hard on our hero. This is a kid with a hero complex. He feels it is his responsibility to fix things and save his friends, because his entire childhood, he has never had anyone to rely on. The adults in his life did not help him or fix things for him, or make him feel taken care of. Harry had to take care of himself. So, yes, he always thinks it is his job to solve problems or save people. He never had anyone to show him there was another way, which is pretty sad, actually.

I liked playing around with this sketch, because there are many versions of Harry... There is the Harry at Hogwarts, who is this celebrity, but not really in a good way. Everyone always gossips about him and they love him one moment, only to despise him the next. No wonder the boy hates being famous. There is also Harry during the summer when he stays with the Dursleys and gets mistreated. He wears Dudley's hand-me-downs and has to make them work. He doesn't have any friends there and he feels abandoned by the magical world. The neighbours all think he's a criminal and his aunt and uncle started that rumour. How sick is that?! We overlook Harry's abuse quite a bit in the books... But it explains a lot of Harry's character. His awkward social skills and rebellious spirit, his snarkiness and longing for family. Finally, we have Harry the teenager. The normal kid he wishes to be all the time. The one who loves Quidditch, eating candy and playing games with his friends. Who just wants to enjoy himself. Can you imagine how it must have felt when Harry found out he was good at Quidditch? A boy who never once in his life got praised for something finds out he has a natural talent for a sport and people want him to play with them. It must have felt amazing! I like Harry a lot. He's a great protagonist and makes the books great. Yes, the side characters are all colourful and wonderful, but Harry carries the show on his back. I applauded him for it ⚡️

To end this post, here's the version of Harry from 1 year ago:

[2smolbeans]

Yan Satan with a MC who is blind so they can't read on their own (because I don't think there'd be a "instant braille" spell unless Solomon made one)

So it's just Satan constantly time hoarding MC, and the rest of the brothers fuming and getting "oh no Satan is so nice! He helps me 'read' and is super descriptive too! What do you mean he's scary?!"

Because MC can't see the death glare TM..

And, adding onto this MC basically as nicely as possible being like 'I really appreciate you helping me out...but I kinda prefer when Satan does since he describes everything so vividly! Sorry 😅'

Aww..Dang that's actually really cute and wholesome the more I think about it-

Yandere Satan with a Blind Mc

I feel like there would be an instant braille, this is a world of magic- anything is possible. Perhaps there's a spell that gets a guiding spirit/creature to read it out the words, or a spell that can change the texture of the text you're trying to read from into braille or whatever suits your needs.

But does Satan want you to know that? Not really.. He'll probably keep it a secret from you and glare at anyone who tries to tell you. I mean why would you need to know that when he's there for you 24/7 at your beck and call? He loves it when you rely on him, he wants nothing to take that away from him- even if it means stripping your independence.

You like to read, and it's something you have in common with Satan. He'll take you to his room that is filled with an abundance of books to choose from. There's a comfortable bed near the glass window in his room that plush. Usually during your reading sessions, he'll sit on the bed, back propped up straight against a pillow. He'll then call you, using magic to softly guide you towards him. He'll have you nicely comfortable against his chest with his arms secure either side of you while holding the book. With honeyed words, Satan will describe every detail in that chapter, making your fully invested. He'll use magic to fully immerse you into the story, casting spells to bring in sounds, scents, and sensations that are described in the chapter.

You love it! You can picture the scene clearly in your head with his words and your 4 senses being tested. It's why you don't mind being dragged into his room constantly to binge read, its probably why your not even aware that he's hoarding you all to himself! Satan loves the fact that you favor your time with him, he adore the way you snuggle into him, or how you gasp when he uses his magic to entertain you.

He loves you. You're his joy. You're the one thing that sedates his rage and makes him feel so blissful. You're what peace feels like.. And it's why when his brothers began to nag at him, he gets pissed off. Pissed off is an understatement, he sees red when he sees his brothers trying to get your attention. It's even worse when he finds out they're trying to replicate his special time with you. My god he wants to rip them to shreds. But he can't, and he knows it'll end badly if he does. So he resorts to violence. Taking out his anger out on any poor soul he finds. He tears through his entire room, cursing, screaming, angry, tears in his eyes as he bangs his head against the wall. His room is in utter shambles.

Why couldn't they let him have this one thing? Fuck, he hates the fact that he can't do anything. But that all changes when he hears your soft sincere voice apologizing. "S-Sorry but..I like it when Satan reads it for me..Can we do something else?" "Ah..Its not like I don't like spending time with you! Reading is just more of me and Satan's thing.." "I promise I'll hangout tomorrow..I just really want to read my story!" Well, you just raised his pride and ego. Upon hearing this, he'll be through the roof. Going to his room, he'll make everything clean and whole- hell he'll add some special candles, soft airy blankets, and more pillows for when you come back to him! He'll try to hide his excitement when you show up to his door. Knocking on it softly, calling out his name. Grinning ear to ear like an eager puppy, Satan will happily let you in.

"There you are..I've been holding myself off for this chapter. I'm so glad you're here because I don't know how long I would've lasted.." "Hey no cheating! Anyways.. Can we read it today? Together..?" "No need to ask me twice. Come, get comfortable"

And there you are, his pride, his joy, his lovely human. You're in his arms right were you belong. While he reads he enjoys the way he can hear your soft breathing, your wonderful scent he can't get enough of, and your warmth he could just cuddle into. He loves this, he loves you. And he wouldn't dream of letting you go.

.

.

[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.