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teapartyprincess4two · 11 months ago

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Intrusive Thoughts- M. Sturniolo

pairing: bestfriend!reader x bestfriend!Matt

classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF (well a little fluff bc filler parts)

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, masturbation, use of y/n, cursing, suggestive content, forced proximity, Nick and Chris can drive bc if not this wouldn’t work & I don’t want to make up extra characters, short

inspiration: request^^

summary: You’re forced to sit on Matt’s lap during a long roadtrip and once you arrive at your destination he lets his intrusive thoughts win.

Intrusive Thoughts PT.1, PT.2

—

“Stop moving,” Matt grumbles, his legs going numb from the constant applied pressure. You’re currently sitting on his lap, every other spot in the car completely overtaken with bags, blankets, pillows, and warm bodies. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I have to pee,” you reply in a hushed tone, feeling embarrassed for all your constant squirming. You’ve had to pee for the past two hours and you won’t reach the next gas station until 30 minutes.

Matt hates himself for enjoying this, despite his legs being completely numb, he can feel everything on his lap. The view is nice too, your tight leggings hugging your round ass perfectly. You squirm again, accidentally grinding down onto Matt hard enough for his dick to twitch. All he can do is hope you can’t feel it and pray he can think of anything other than you for the remainder of the trip.

“Nick, pull over I actually can’t hold it,” you say, standing up slightly to point to the side of the road. Your ass is on full display for Matt now, he just wants to reach out and grab it. Nick sends you an annoyed glare as he pulls off the highway and onto the access road.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips, your body plopping back down onto Matt’s lap aggressively as you rush to get out of the car. Matt groans at the contact, the force at which you sat on him sending him into a frenzy.

“Don’t look!” you exclaim, running deep into the forest that ligned the road to hide behind a tree. Nick is annoyed and tired from all the driving and Chris is fast asleep. Matt was too busy trying to hide his erection to even care.

Why did he agree to come on this road trip? Why didn’t he just offer to drive? Now he’s stuck in the backseat with you on his lap and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Finally,” Nick groans in annoyance, watching as you run out from behind the trees and hop back into the car. You sit yourself on Matt’s lap again, this time much closer to his crotch and he swears he sees stars from this alone.

This was going to be a long, painful car ride.

—

You’re asleep, leaning into the bags and pillows that litter the middle seat, a blanket thrown over yours and Matt’s lap haphazardly. You stir slightly with each sharp turn or sudden bump, scooting back onto your make-shift pillow each time. The blanket serves as the perfect shield from wandering eyes and Matt uses it to his advantage, allowing his hands to hold you in place dangerously close to your inner thighs.

The car drives over a bumpy road causing you to bounce slightly on Matt’s lap, the pressure creating a sensation that he begins to welcome. Once the road smooths out again, you readjust yourself and wiggle your hips in an attempt to anchor yourself. Matt bites his lips and looks away, trying to fight the perverse thoughts that form in his mind.

All he can think about is you in your shared hotel room, clothes discarded and scattered on the floor. He imagines you laid out for him on the plush white comforter, ready to do any and everything he says. The bed would rock with each thrust causing the headboard to slam against the wall, informing all your neighbors that you belong to no one other than him.

His eyes are closed tightly, head leaned against the cold window as he tries coming back to reality. He exhales sharply, willing himself to stop thinking about you that way. You’re his best friend, and best friends weren’t supposed to imagine how the other would look naked. He wasn’t supposed to be fantasizing about your lips wrapped around him, or your legs pressed against your chest while his large hands held them in place.

“We’re here?” Chris croaks from the front seat, his voice still hoarse from his long nap. Nick hums in response, pulling up to the hotel parking lot.

Suddenly the car stops making Matt’s head bump against the glass slightly. You wake up from the sudden movement, stretching a little before turning towards Matt. You offer him an innocent smile, “Hi.”

He returns the smile, trying to pretend like he wasn’t just imagining you with his dick in your mouth. “Hi, sleep good?” he asks, still holding you securely in place by your thighs. He squeezes them briefly, before reluctantly dragging his hands away.

“Mhm,” you reply, your voice cracking a little from not talking for hours. He wants you making those noises from under him.

Chris opens the backseat car door before Matt can reply, causing you to jump off of his lap. You, Nick and Chris work towards getting all the bags out of the car while Matt tries to compose himself.

Finally, when he’s almost 100% his erection isn’t noticeable, he gets out of the car.

—

Matt knew he was sharing a room with you from the get-go, especially because he was the one who invited you on this trip in the first place, but the thought was still enough to excite him. It spiked his nerves, sending all his blood to his dick as he imagined all the possibilities.

“You can sleep, I’m gonna shower,” you say once you’re in the room, locking the door behind you. He fights the urge to follow after you, desperate for a little show. He’d have to save it for his dreams though, because despite being sexually frustrated, Matt was really tired and his legs were sore from the car ride.

“Okay.” He’s kicking his shoes off and undresses until he’s only in his boxers. Matt gets comfortable under the sheets, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep before you get out of the shower. But it’s no use, his mind is racing with thoughts of you.

You in a bikini, you in a short skirt, you with a low cut top, you eating a popsicle, you kneeling down in front of him and letting him slap you in the face with his dick. So many dirty thoughts run through Matt’s head, all of them involving you in a compromising position.

His hand instinctively travels down under the waistband of his boxers, tugging until his cock is free. You were still in the shower, the steam coming out from under the door and the soft pitter patter of the water filled the room. Matt knew he had at least 15 minutes before you returned into the room ready for bed, plus the plush comforter served as an illusion, it was so big that you couldn’t even tell there was someone laying under it.

Slowly, he strokes himself, biting his lip to stop himself from making any noise. All of his fantasies play through his head, and like credits at the end of a movie, they're never ending. He picks up the pace, trying to finish before you’re done in the shower.

He hears the water turn off, mentally cursing himself for somehow not being able to finish. Just moments ago he was ready to bust at the idea of you and now the performance anxiety is inhibiting his climax. “Come on, come on,” he mutters, thrusting into his hand relentlessly, imagining that it was your hand instead of his. Finally he feels it, his climax builds and with one last pump he’s cumming into his hand. A quiet whimper comes from Matt, finally feeling satisfied.

The bathroom door opens, the light illuminating the rest of the room as you walk out in nothing but a cropped tank top and tight shorts. Your head is tilted to the side, your hands working a brush through your wet, tangled hair.

“Can you help?” you ask Matt, hoping he’ll help you get the knots out faster. He closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep to avoid the awkward situation under the sheets. His boxers are midway down his thighs, his soft dick laying on his stomach as remnants of his session linger on his hand.

You realize he’s asleep, or that he’s pretending, and huff in annoyance before returning back into the restroom to finish your night routine.

He didn’t know how he was going to survive the rest of the night.

—

Matt tosses and turns all night, unable to get comfortable no matter how hard he tries. You’re facing away from him because he’s sleeping on the side with the window and the sheer curtains do nothing to shield the obnoxious hallway light. Your soft snores fill the room, and even though Matt’s still physically tired, his mind is awake with thoughts of you.

After you got into bed, he hurried into the restroom and you wondered why. He stayed in there for a while, giving you enough time to think about a night with him and not an innocent one either. You fell asleep thinking about everything he’d do to you, all the positions he’d put you in.

“Y/n,” Matt whispers, nudging you gently. You’re out cold though, soft whimpers coming from you. At one point he swears he hears his name. “Y/n!” he whispers again, but much louder.

You finally stir, your head turning to face him as your eyes drowsily finding his face, adjusting to the dark. “What?” you croak, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You were having a good dream and the sooner you could return to it, the better. So, whatever Matt wanted better be good.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispers, pulling the comforter up higher against his neck. You groan in annoyance, turning away from him once again, “count sheep.” You close your eyes, preparing to enter another deep sleep full of dreams of Matt.

Matt snakes an arm over your waist, sneakily managing to go under your shirt. He’s only testing the waters though, not trying to take things too far too fast. “I did already,” he mumbles, tracing mindlessly shapes on your skin.

“Think of something boring,” you instruct.

How could he though when you’re right here, infecting his thoughts with perverse fantasies. “Can’t. Can only think of you,” he whispers, finally giving in to his intrusive thoughts as he presses a kiss onto your shoulder.

Whatever sleep you felt immediately leaves your body at the confession. Matt’s hand travels further up your shirt, holding one of your boobs. You groan at the sensation, instinctively scooting closer to him. Your ass presses against his crotch and immediately you feel his dick, it’s begging to be set free.

“I was dreaming of you,” you admit, one of your hands traveling behind you to massage Matt’s clothed penis. Your fingers manage to wrap around him despite the boxers being in the way, massaging him slowly. “Yeah? What was I doing?” he asks through strained moans, trying to see how far you two will go.

“Making me feel good.”

“Be specific, baby,” he grunts, bucking into your hand.

You proceed to describe your dream, all the dirty details only adding to Matt’s already active imagination. “First, you fucked me in the shower, lathering me up with soap and kissing all over my body. You fucked me against the glass and we left our handprints all over it,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his cock slightly. Matt’s breath hitches in his throat at the idea of you covered in sudsy bubbles.

“Then, you fucked me on the bathroom counter. You made me feel so good I screamed your name,” your voice is so seductive it has Matt whimpering. You move your hand from over his boxers and trail just above his waistband, allowing your fingers to linger there for a while before finally diving in.

“I sucked your dick on the balcony while you sat in the lounge chair. You came all over my face, all over my chest. All over, baby,” you pump his cock slowly, listening for his whimpers. His eyes are squeezed shut, he’s imagining every single scenario in full detail.

“Then I sat on it and bounced on it for hours. It felt so good,” you added. He squeezes your tit in his hand, pinching your nipple in the process and eliciting a small moan from you. “You sucked on my tits while I bounced on it, baby. You made me feel so good.”

Matt groans at the visual, he can’t take it anymore, if you keep going he’ll bust all over your hand without warning. “Stop,” he groans, pushing your hand off him before he can finish. If you two are going to do this, you’re going to do it right.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he says, eagerly tugging your shorts off. You kick the shorts off, clenching around nothing at the thought of him inside you.

He lines himself up with your entrance, groaning at how warm and ready you are for him. Slowly, he pushes in, allowing himself to adjust to the new sensation. You feel so good clenching around him as you try and take as much of him as possible.

“Tell me more, princess,” he moans, his hips slowly beginning to rock back and forth at a rhythmic pace.

You’re struggling to remember the dream now, but you’re afraid that if you don’t speak Matt will stop. “I was on the edge of the bed, face down ass up for you and you were- fuck.” His hips snap into you, the angle hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.

“Keep going,” he instructs, using his hand to work circles on your clit.

With each thrust your brain becomes foggier and foggier, but you’re eager to please. “You were fucking me from behind and your balls slapped against my pussy,” you spilled out quickly, a loud moan following right after.

“Then?” Matt grunts, you clenched around him in desperation for more. “Ugh.. then we did it in the hot tub. You undid my bikini and I sat on it. I bounced on it, felt so good,” you’re babbling at this point, struggling to form coherent words.

“Bounced on what?” He’s fucking you so hard and fast right now you don’t understand how he can even think straight.

“On your big dick,” you whimper, feeling your climax approach quickly. Matt stops asking questions, instead focusing his attention on pushing you past your breaking point. He’s starting to see stars, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as he nears his orgasm.

“So fucking good,” he grunts, biting down on your shoulder as he cums inside of you, his hand still expertly drawing circles on your clit. The combination of stimulation is enough to make you cum, your body convulsing as you clench and cream around him.

You’re chanting his name, your thighs instinctively pushing together as the overstimulation becomes too much. He smiles at how fucked out he has you, removing his hand and finally slipping out of you.

The room goes silent, both of you so tangled in eachother that you can’t tell where one of you starts and where the other ends. He feels the drowsiness settle in his eyelids, they start to feel heavy and he fights it until he can’t anymore.

Shortly after him, you fall asleep too. Whatever consequences that were going to arise from tonight were tomorrow’s problem.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

🤫🤫

Shh they eepy.

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @sturniololovers

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

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It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.

He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.

He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.

He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.

It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.

Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.

He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.

He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.

He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.

He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.

"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"

"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.

"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"

"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."

"Are you dyeing it again?"

"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."

"You can get box dye at-"

"I'm not using box dye."

"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"

Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.

Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.

When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.

"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.

"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"

But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.

"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.

"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"

"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."

"Oh."

Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.

"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.

"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."

He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.

"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.

"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

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summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.

idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k

content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺

—

“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”

you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.

you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.

matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.

one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.

you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.

it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.

recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.

your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.

you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.

you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.

since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.

your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.

but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.

the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.

it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.

you’re so fucking lonely.

you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.

you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.

you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.

for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abundance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.

you’re free falling.

if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.

because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.

the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.

your bad vision begs you to look away.

it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.

you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.

you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.

but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.

—

jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.

he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.

“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”

but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.

something important such as…

proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.

“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.

it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.

“…shit. i need to go back.”

—

he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.

thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.

the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.

he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.

that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.

—

“i won’t forget to call after every show.”

“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”

“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”

and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.

although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.

“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.

his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.

“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”

“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”

“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”

“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”

the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.

“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”

immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”

he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.

“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”

you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.

his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.

“are you mad?”

you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.

“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”

you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.

“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”

“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”

you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.

“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”

he meekly nods.

this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.

“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”

he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.

“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.

him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.

“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”

“what are those responsibilities exactly?”

“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”

but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.

you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”

the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”

“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”

—

he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.

with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.

every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.

adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.

on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.

to: my jungkook

babyyy the sun is about to rise

so i’m not sleepy anymore :(

you're not home yet?

wait. if you're still driving just reply later

be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️

ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound

and after the flight ofc!! 😭

i love you! ❤️

seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.

jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.

if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.

once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.

and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.

“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.

he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.

the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.

but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”

your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.

“jungkook…”

the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”

you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”

“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”

but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.

in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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milkyblxxd · 1 month ago

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⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

slasher!TF141 cw: blood, death, chasing, unconsensual touching, big bad men being scary, f!reader, vague and incomplete, barely edited

wanted to post this as a tester to see if this is something people would be interested in

๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Every breath burns. Your legs are moving on their own, desperately fleeing as flight completely overrides your nervous system. Tree branches whip into your face, but your brain can hardly register the stinging pain they bring. The darkness of the forest swallows you whole and refuses to release you from its jaws. The full moon mocks you as it dangles in the sky, peeking between the gaps of the evergreens - free of earthly horrors.

It’s impossible to tell if it's blood, sweat, or tears running down your face. You don’t even know if it’s your own blood. Nausea violently twists your stomach, images of your friends' mangled bodies flashing through your mind.

What was supposed to be a summer getaway to celebrate the end of finals ended up to be a nightmare.

The warning signs were there. Dark figures lurking at the edges of the lake waved off as shadows playing tricks on your mind. Items disappearing or moving around (but you swear you brought that brand new yellow bathing suit - did you take my hairbrush from the bathroom?). Skin erupting into goosebumps as you try to sunbathe because it just feels like someone is watching you - but your friends brushed off your concerns.

You just need to relax - you’re too wound up!

I don’t see anything…how much have you had to drink?

You’re gonna freak everyone out if you keep being all weird -

What else were you supposed to do? Walk 10 miles to the nearest gas station, hitch a ride back home all because the woods are creeping a city girl like you out?

A root catches your bare foot, sending you face first into the ground. In the attempt to brace yourself your body twists the opposite direction, a shooting pain that travels from your ankle to your spine makes you heave. You can’t help but lay there for a moment as the pain and exhaustion seep into your bones. A patch of moonlight catches your eye as you gasp, short breaths cutting through the hum of the forest. You don't stop your eyes from fluttering shut.

Hopefully your friends will forgive you for not getting away…

Thundering footsteps and muffled shouts snap you back to reality. Gritting your teeth, you claw your fingers into the earth. Like hell you’re gonna die tonight. Adrenaline forces you up onto your feet as you find the strength to move. Hiding is your best option, if you can just hide until daylight, find your way to the nearest road and limp until you can find anyone - you can survive, you can survive -

The hope that sparked within you was snuffed out just as quickly as it was ignited - with what you could only describe as a brick wall bulldozing into you. You’re sent flying to the ground, wind completely knocked out of your lungs. Before you can even recover, a heavy weight is straddling over your waist and manhandling you onto your stomach. Coughing, you can only weakly struggle against the iron grip around both of your wrists, the feeling of a rope twisting and cutting into your skin as you’re restrained.

A leather clad hand grips the hair at the base of your skull and tugs, a cry slipping from your lips as you’re forced to arch your spine to relieve the sting. The light from a phone screen being shoved into your face is blinding. You can only see the screen for a second - but the grotesque image makes you freeze. Blood and dirt covers your face, trails of clean skin left behind as your tears cut through the grime - but what was behind you was the real terror. The red of the skull mask your assailant wore almost perfectly matches the shade of the blood smeared on your body.

The sound of the camera shutter goes off.

Your head is suddenly being shoved back into the dirt, heavy hand pressing into your wet cheek as you sob. The leather is strangely cool against your hot skin as he strokes underneath your eye, cleaning up your tears in an act of…comfort?

The man shushes you and mumbles incoherently in a thick accent, muffled through the mask he wears as he huffs.

“Couldnae let yah get away-”

“-sweet little bonnie, don’ cry-”

“-made me so hard chasing yah like that, fuck-”

You can feel something hard pressing into your ass when what sounds like a radio is being activated.

“Got our little lamb.”

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crimsoncandy04 · 3 months ago

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Behold, a scenario where you become the unwilling sex slave of The Balladeer.

POV: You were with The Traveler in Inazuma trying to aid the resistance. You didn't have much to say for yourself except for a bow and an electro vision that had been damaged in a fight with local samurai and was now malfunctioning during use. But one thing you had was a fighting spirit. And hope that the vision hunt decree would be abolished soon.

However such a world would never belong to you. Fate would have a more sinister plan for you as it seemed.

And that fate began to unravel the day you went with The Traveler to find the delusion factory and ended up face to face with the most egotistical harbinger out of the 12 you heard of.

The Balladeer.

You always hated him the most. And he seemed to be almost pleased with this as whenever you were in close proximity to him, he would stare you down with a strange sadistic gleam in his indigo eyes and refuse to look away until you did first due to being extremely uncomfortable.

You hated him so much.

And you hated it even more when a strange violet gas began to fill the factory and caused Aether to pass out right next to you. Thus giving you no excuse but to face the man who frankly terrified and disgusted you.

You were Fontaine born and raised thankfully. So being able to hold your breath for long periods of time was nothing. And when you saw Miko appear on the scene and prepare to rescue you, you felt so relieved that this nightmare would be over soon.

Oh how wrong you were.

"a life for a life" was the promise that was made as the gnosis exchanged hands and Miko prepared to pick up Aether and disappear with him. But just as you stepped over to join her and finally be free from the piercing gaze of Scaramouche, his voice suddenly sounded more sly and sinister than before as he reminded the priestess that she had made an exchange for ONE life. Not multiple. And that he was being "cheated" by her trying to include you in the deal without prior say.

You couldn't believe your ears. No one could. Paimon screeched that he was being unfair and begged Miko to just leave already, Miko paused in her haste to go and ultimately seemed to be thinking about something before she turned to you and gave you that same particular tone and smile.

"Oh don't make that face little one. He's right you know? Vile as the claim may be. I do feel bad for what I'm about to do, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made and your friend here is very important to our plans right now. I'll send someone to retrieve you when I can. In the meantime do try not to lose your mind. It'd be a great shame if by the time help arrived, you were nothing but a mindless and broken hostage unfit to re-enter society."

What the HELL was she saying.

"Miko...Miko wait...MIKO!" You ended up screaming as she vanished in a burst of violet particles.

You had messed up then.

In your haste to try and reach the fox lady and yell for her to please reconsider, you had opened your mouth.

All at once your fear and devastation had become rage at being left behind like YOUR life was less than and unworthy of fighting for.

You tried to calm your emotions but it was no use. You collapsed to the ground in a heap of defeat and helplessness. The last thing you saw was the silhouette of that monster slowly walking over to your unconscious body on the ground.

You felt strong yet delicate hands reach under your arms and pull you up before everything went white.

When you came to once again you were sore all over. You didn't know what happened. All you could feel in your head was an endless stinging pain that never seemed to get any better. And that was BESIDES the throbbing pain in your more sensitive areas. Particularly your nipples and clit.

You had barely opened your eyes when you realized you were completely undressed and bound to what appeared to be an operating table somewhere unfamiliar to you. Your heart raced as you tried to sit up but your wrists and ankles were chained to small metal hooks protruding from the surface of the place where you lay.

You finally screamed and began to cry for someone to help you. Anyone.

But no one came.

It felt like hours before you finally heard the voice of the LAST person you wanted to see right now in your state.

"you're finally awake. And here I thought you died before we even got fully acquainted." Scaramouche leered from somewhere behind me.

What was going on? Why was he here? WHY WAS HE SO CALM ABOUT ME BEING NAKED?

You said nothing. Just shivering as you fought the urge to vomit suddenly.

Oh archons please don't let happen what you think is about to happen...

You feel a gloved hand reach out and gently caress your cheek as the other softly ran its way through your long dark hair.

The room was dim and you couldn't see much but you could definitely feel and you honestly wished that you couldn't as you hear a small amused hum from your tormentor, his hand slowly moving down to grab hold of one of your breasts. He squeezed and seemed to be almost analyzing something you couldn't see. Yet for some reason as he cradled your head almost lovingly and fondled your medium sized assets, you feel your disgust practically drain away in an instant.

You feel yourself relax a little. The reaction was most certainly your own but it still felt very...wrong. like your brain was acting without conscience effort.

It felt like your head was tingling.

The sensation quickly moved from your head to your torso. Feeling almost like a stabbing pain until your body began to grow aroused from it. Your pussy getting wetter as you felt your nipples harden in his hands.

You hear a chuckle as you gasp and try to instinctively fight, only to feel your entire body go limp every time.

Scaramouche then chose to roughly pinch and tug on your sore nipples until you pitifully pleaded with him to stop. He didn't. Instead he pulled harder until you felt something odd embedded in your flesh.

Metal. Something like a small rod buried in your tender skin.

It felt like your heart stopped as you realized that someone had actually pierced both of your nipples while you had been out cold and likely had done the same to your poor clit. But why?

Well you soon found out.

Suddenly you feel a painful current of electro leave Scaramouche's fingertips and shock you hard. The sensation reminded you of a bite. Quick yet painful.

You knew you should have been scared. You wanted to in that moment, but it felt like the emotion was almost instantly cut short as the same pleasant tingling infiltrated your skull and quickly traveled down your back. Forcing your entire body to relax again.

"How shameful. Letting your captor turn you on like this." The harbinger jeered as you felt him release you and instead make his way over to your bound feet where he quickly went to poke and tease your now swollen and excited nub that still stung from being nonconsensually modified earlier.

"Disgusting bug. But I suppose you can't help it. Humans are after all, stupid and fragile creatures, driven by their useless little feelings and desires."

You try to keep silent as he verbally degrades you yet when you feel his cool tongue against your sore clitty, you can't help yourself and finally moan out loud.

Tears began to well up in your big brown eyes as this small sound of delight from your lips seemed to encourage him to continue.

He held your knees apart as he focused solely on overstimulating your pleasure spot and as much as you didn't want to, you could feel yourself getting closer to climaxing.

"Please! Please don't! I can't!" You whine as you feel him moan against your sex and send even more unwanted vibrations throughout your core.

He doesn't stop until you end up creaming on his face. Even then he continues to suck and lick your clit until you're practically begging him for mercy and on the verge of cumming for a third time in a row.

Every time the same tingling would take away all of your negative emotions and make you actively CRAVE Scaramouche's touch.

You hated that you loved this so much.

And if anything, the more Scaramouche made you cum, the more you could almost feel your brain associating him with just that. Warping your old perception of him slowly but surely.

Until in your mind, he became the source of the only pleasant feelings that kept you sane amidst the darkness.

He did eventually fuck you, but it wasn't for a long time. And it was because YOU begged him to.

You didn't know what had come over you. All you knew was that you needed him one night like never before.

You found yourself kneeling at his feet and kissing his feet begging to be used even though a small dying voice in the back of your mind found it odd.

After what must've been days in the dim room you originally woke up in, you were blindfolded and taken elsewhere.

And this one singular lavish bedroom that stayed locked from the outside at all times would be your new home.

At least that's what your master had told you.

You weren't sure when you started calling him that. In fact a lot of your memories seemed to be gone or hazy.

But you didn't care.

You just wanted n-no you NEEDED your master now. You needed his cruelty and his kindness. You wanted nothing else.

Every day he would visit you in your playroom, you sat waiting by the door every time you heard the knob, crouched and ready to crawl to him and greet him eagerly after a long day like the bitch you now were. Complete with a cute collar and tail too! Not to mention the ears...

You'd happily wait for Scaramouche to free his cock from the confines of his shorts and smirk as he ordered you to service him like a good girl and swallow his seed. You never once disobeyed him. Not that you wanted to.

You knew that insubordination would result in you being tied up and having electricity ran through your piercings repeatedly until you peed yourself in humiliation and cried. Only then would your master release you. Once you began to plead for forgiveness and were reduced to nothing but a wailing and pitiful little creature.

No.

You always did what you were told because the rewards were so much better than you ever imagined.

If you succeeded in your efforts and made him finish quickly, you were fucked raw and hard by him until your belly began to swell from the constant flow of hot cum that was fucked into your womb as a prize for your obedience.

And on certain days, you were even given kisses and massages. Especially if he was in a good mood and hadn't rewarded you in a long time.

Your new life was simple. You were the harbinger's plaything. You remained locked away and cherished sensually as time seemed to go on and on without change.

In fact, the day someone broke into your bedroom and immediately scooped you up in a blanket and declared in a hushed tone that they were freeing you, nothing happy came from hearing these words for you.

No no no.

You WANTED your master!

You didn't want to be out there!

But it was no use. The person had a glider and had flown away with you during the night before anyone could take notice.

And ever since then your entire life had been miserable.

He called himself Aether.

He said he was your friend. But you couldn't remember anything he was talking about no matter how hard you tried. Hasn't master always been your only company?

He and others spoke about scary things like microchips in someone's brain and memories being distorted as a form of control.

You wanted to go home so badly. It was scary out here.

Your only solace was the fact that your master hadn't completely left you yet. You dreamt of him kissing you again. You could practically see him around you like a phantom sometimes, telling you that you were still his good girl.

And one day as you felt a small kick in your belly, you swore you could hear him laughing from somewhere far away.

You needed to be with him again.

#genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x female reader #scaramouche x female reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin impact smut #female reader #dark smut #body modification

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Small Ways To Elevate Your Life

Fashion & Beauty:

Wear coordinated lingerie (bra and underwear) under your outfit daily

Keep at least one pair of shapewear/sculpting underwear in your closet to streamline your look under form-fitting clothes

Invest in high-quality socks and hosiery (I love everything from HUE!)

Curate a collection of basics tanks, tees, and long-sleeves that pair well with each type of jeans/trousers/skirt/outerwear option you wear on repeat throughout the week/month

Invest in a timeless black boot (one short and one tall or mid-calf), loafer/flat, pump, and white sneaker that pair well with nearly any outfit

Apply products in the order: liquid, cream, then powder (you can top all of them off with a setting spray if desired)

If you're confused about what your YLLB (your lips but better) shade is, try to match it to the darker portion of your nipple

Switch off eyes in between mascara coats when applying more than one coat

Apply lip balm before you start doing your makeup so it can absorb into your lips and ensure your lipstick/gloss/tint doesn't dry out your lips

Health & Wellness:

Get a pill box to house your daily vitamins & supplements; Fill it up on Sunday evening to have all of your supplements in your sight, sorted, and simple to take every day without a second thought

Always take your supplements with food, not coffee, to optimize absorption

Drink a large glass of water within 5-10 minutes of waking up

Invest in beautiful, large salad bowls and/or juice & smoothie glasses to inspire you to eat more salads and greens-filled meals throughout the week

Ensure you're breathing normally/not stressed when eating to avoid excess bloating; Don't use straws when possible if you're prone to trapped gas

Try the diagram breathing technique to calm your nerves when you wake up, when you're trying to sleep, wind down, or anytime you're stressed (Place one hand on the center of your chest and the other in the middle of your stomach right below your rib cage)

Learn how to give yourself a sinus massage and an abdominal self-massage to relieve everyday congestion and pain at home

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

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hi!!!! I love your writing so much and I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I'm in the hospital at the moment and it isn't the best weekend of my life!! thinking about if reader got injured and aaron got the phone call that she was in hospital?? thank u!!!

collisions

:( i'm so sorry to hear that oh my gosh, i hope you're alright, recover quickly, and can leave hopefully soon <33 cw; car accident, description of injuries - reader is mildly hurt, anxious aaron

what started as a calm workday, changed with one phone call.

you had been in a multi-car accident, a string of rear-ended collisions, the slick roads all to blame. an ice storm had rattled the area unexpectedly, coating all roadways and making all driving conditions hazardous to the extreme.

aaron had been in the roundtable room with the team, debriefing, when his phone began buzzing, the vibration lightly shaking the surface of the table. caller id read the name of the local hospital, resulting in all color leaving his face. he got up so rapidly a few sheets of paperwork wafted to the floor.

deep in his gut, he immediately knew it had to be in regards to you. the feeling was too intense to be anything else, and god he hoped his intuition was wrong.

but just his luck, it wasn't; he didn't receive much information during the call, just that they were contacting him as your emergency contact, and that there had been an accident with you stuck in the middle. the state of your injuries, he didn't know.

by the time the call ended, dave had trailed out behind in concern, following with the simple instruction to 'go.'

the drive frustratedly and understandably took longer, all cars proceeding with caution. the pace only heightened his nerves; his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the steering wheel, and when stalled within traffic, his wrist rest atop the wheel, his thumb rubbing against his index finger in his self-soothing manner.

if that wasn't enough, the foot not occupied by the gas and brake tapped in place, as if it would somehow speed things along. even during his drive he witnessed several cars nearly slide off the road, felt his own wheels yearn to move to their own accord at times. and each time, he imagined you and how you must've felt. the fear that must've filled you.

you had to be okay.

the prolonged drive also allowed, in his usual self deprecating fashion, much time for him to blame himself; he should've called and insisted you stay home the moment he heard the hard ice pattering against his office windows. he should've driven you himself. he should've done something. anything.

finally aaron arrived at the hospital, mindlessly flashing his fbi credentials at the first desk he found and mentioning your name, and how he had to see you. if showing his badge actually contributed to anything, he wasn't quite sure, he displayed it in an urgent panic, but he was quickly ushered to where you had been recovering.

when you were finally in view, could he finally breathe.

"thank god," he exhaled aloud in relief. you were sitting upright, responsive, chatting quietly with the nurse who had been doting on you.

"aaron," your eyes lit up, his name leaving you in a sigh.

the nurse informed him you had escaped with a mild concussion, a few bruised, but not broken, ribs. as they relayed the details, aaron silently thanked himself he had taken your car to get a tune up before the winter months released their wrath. if he hadn't, the outcome could've been horribly, horribly different.

"sweetheart." he grabbed onto your hands once the nurse left to attend to another patient, bringing the warmth back to them. he could feel the prick of tears behind his eyes, "are you in much pain?"

"i'm fine my love. jus' shaken up." you answered him, nodding your head in further reassurance, in hopes to relieve the distressed expression plastered on his face. but you immediately regretted the subtle movement, wincing heavily as pain tweaked within your ribs.

"don't move too much." his hands shot out to cup your face, his touch extremely tender and gentle, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. he couldn't help but exhale again, "fuck, i'm so glad you're okay."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

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The Heart Still Beating - 3 | Lloyd

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Female!Reader

Summary: After the heart transplant, Lloyd, the heartless killer, started to feel something—something unexpected and powerful that was tied to the fiancé of the heart’s donor.

Words Count : 2916

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , End

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Your legs buckled, vision swimming, but Lloyd was there, steadying you before you collapsed completely.

“They won’t stop until they get this heart.” His gaze hardened, jaw set in determination. “I’ll get rid of them.” He turned to leave, but suddenly his expression twisted in pain. “Urgh…” His hand went to his chest, but as he glanced back at you, the pain dulled, fading.

With a deep breath, he started walking again, only for the pain to slam back into him, sharper this time. Grimacing, he gritted his teeth and forced himself down the hall, each step more agonizing than the last.

Finally, he stumbled back toward you, grabbing your hand without a word. “Stay here. I want to test something.”

Lloyd walked downstairs, testing his distance. At first, his chest felt fine. But the moment he closed a door behind him, the pain flared again, searing and relentless. “Damn it!” he roared, frustration boiling over as he stomped the ground.

The sound drew you and Carmichael out, finding Lloyd with a look of pure aggravation. His gaze shifted to you. “Your fiancé,” he spat, “is such a damn coward. I can’t get more than ten feet from you without this pain kicking in.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Every time I get further than ten feet from you, it’s like someone’s crushing my chest. How am I supposed to work like this?” His hands gestured in irritation. “I can’t drag you around while I’m out there hunting down these bastards!”

You stiffened. He was absolutely right—there was no way you’d risk following him into that world, putting yourself and your child in danger.

Carmichael, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “What if… you kept her voice with you?”

Lloyd paused, thinking.

“If she keeps talking, it might feel like she’s still beside you, close enough to stop the pain,” Carmichael suggested.

Moments later, you and Lloyd each wore an earpiece. “Can you hear me?” you asked, your voice soft but clear.

Lloyd gave a quick nod, jaw set with determination. “I’ll try leaving the building now.” He pushed himself to walk forward, putting distance between you. But the instant he stepped outside, he sank to his knees, pain tearing through him.

“Lloyd!” Your voice came through the earpiece, urgent, and in a heartbeat, the pain dissolved.

He exhaled, shaky but relieved. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, glancing down at his chest. “It’s working.” He cleared his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yes?” Your voice was a soothing lifeline.

“Keep talking,” he said quietly. “I’m going to finish this, for Justin.”

A swell of gratitude warmed your voice. “Thank you, Lloyd.” You hesitated, then added, “And… please, stay alive.”

He smirked faintly, glancing down. “I’ll protect this,” he murmured, pointing at his chest, a mix of bitterness and resolve in his eyes. “And I’ll protect you.”

💘💘💘💘

The nightclub pulsed with heavy bass, the walls vibrating under the relentless beat of the music. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, booze, and something darker—this was no ordinary club. This was Mr. Cicadas’ den, the very heart of his empire.

Two women perched on Lloyd's thighs, draped over him like jewels. He leaned back, his fingers absently tracing patterns along the rim of his glass as he casually mentioned their boss. “Mr. Cicadas,” he said with a smirk. One of the girls giggled as he raised a face mask to his mouth.

“Going a little kinky?” one of them teased, her smile playful.

Lloyd’s smirk deepened as he produced a small canister. The faint hiss of gas filled the air, making the women leap to their feet, alarm flaring in their eyes. “What… what is that?”

“You want crazy?” Lloyd growled, eyes dark with intent. “I’ll show you crazy.”

With a twist of the valve, a cloud of gas spilled into the air, blanketing the room. The initial effect was breathlessness, confusion. Then came the screams. In seconds, chaos erupted as patrons stumbled over one another, eyes wild and hallucinating, their minds twisted by the haze.

The music was cut off in a jarring silence as armed men surrounded Lloyd, their expressions shifting from shock to rage. One of them, his voice laced with venom, barked, “Who the hell are you?”

Lloyd smirked, eyes gleaming with cold malice. “I’m here for your boss.”

With a swift, almost casual movement, he struck the nearest man, sending him crashing into a table. In an instant, the scene exploded into a brutal fight. The mafiosos lunged at him, but Lloyd moved like a shadow, dodging fists and throwing precise, merciless punches that left them sprawled across the floor.

Each swing, every strike, was sharp, calculated. Lloyd’s face was a mask of concentration as he dispatched his opponents with ruthless efficiency. The men’s grunts of pain and anger filled the air, blending into the chaotic echoes of broken glass and splintering wood.

Meanwhile, you flinched at the sounds over the earpiece—cries of pain, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. You looked at Carmichael, grimacing. “Could you turn down the volume?”

"You know, Lloyd’s not exactly your average man. His world… it’s dark, ruthless." Carmichael’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of caution. "He’s deep in the underworld. Takes on jobs nobody else will touch—cleaning up the messes of the worst people out there, dealing with gangsters, mafias, corrupt politicians. To him, the surface world we live in? It’s like a playground."

You looked up, meeting his gaze, the weight of his words settling in. “I always thought there was something… off about him. But I didn’t realize it was like this.”

Carmichael gave a small nod. “Few people do. Lloyd’s work is invisible to most, but that’s how he survives. It’s how he keeps people in check. This man—he’s seen and done things most of us couldn’t imagine. If he’s in your life, it’s because he’s chosen to be. And you… you’re different to him.”

A lump formed in your throat. His world was so distant, so violent, so entirely at odds with everything you’d ever known. There was no denying it—your life was simple in comparison. You had no place in his brutal reality. Yet, as your thoughts drifted to Justin, to the senseless tragedy of his death, you knew that Lloyd might be the only person capable of delivering the justice Justin deserved.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. “Lloyd’s the only one who can do this, isn’t he?”

Carmichael's expression softened, a hint of understanding in his eyes. “He’s already made it personal. For Lloyd, this is more than just a job now. This is about making things right—however he defines it.”

Just then, Lloyd’s voice crackled through. “I know where he is.”

💘💘💘💘

You and Lloyd slipped into the hospital under the cover of night, the cold sterility of the VVIP ward a stark contrast to the club’s chaotic energy. Inside, the quiet hum of machines and the sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air. As you entered the private room, your eyes fell on a frail, thin man lying on the bed, his body riddled with tubes.

The man’s eyes darted to you both, wide with terror as he recognized the intent in your gaze. He struggled to sit up, hands raised in a pitiful attempt to shield himself. His voice trembled, desperate. “Please… I’ll give you anything. Money… as much as you want. Just… just let me live. I’ll make it worth your while.” His words spilled out in a frantic plea.

You stared down at him, memories of Justin flooding back with bitter intensity. “No amount of money could erase what you’ve done.” You looked at Lloyd, nodding.

Lloyd’s lips curved into a cold, satisfied smirk. He raised his gun, fixing his steely gaze on the trembling man. “With pleasure.”

In one swift motion, he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the room, and Mr. Cicadas fell back, lifeless, a single bullet through his heart—the same heart he’d so ruthlessly sought.

💘💘💘💘

As the two of you walked down the empty hospital corridor, a profound quiet settled around you. For the first time, a strange sense of peace replaced the heavy anger you had both carried. The man who had taken so much was finally gone, and with that final act of justice, something shifted in the silence between you and Lloyd. Gratitude stirred within you, and finally, you broke the silence.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly, your voice filled with sincerity.

Lloyd stopped mid-step, glancing at you with a mixture of surprise and unease. Gratitude wasn’t something he often encountered in his line of work, let alone after finishing a mission like this. It took him a moment, but he offered a faint, almost hesitant nod.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shrugging as if trying to shake off the weight of the moment. “I got something out of it, too. This heart… it's keeping me alive.”

You met his gaze, feeling a depth in his words that went beyond the physical. Justin’s heart had become part of Lloyd, giving him a second chance at life, and maybe, in a way, it had brought him closer to someone who understood what that gift meant. “It’s more than just the heart, though, isn’t it?” you said softly. “You didn’t have to help me. You could have moved on, done what you always do. But you didn’t.”

Lloyd’s gaze hardened slightly, but not in his usual defensive way. It was almost as if he was trying to mask something softer beneath. “I’m not used to getting thanked. Especially for things like this,” he admitted, his tone quieter, almost vulnerable. “And honestly, I didn’t think it’d feel… different.”

You nodded, understanding more than you’d expected. “Maybe it’s strange to say, but I’m glad it was you who received his heart. I don’t think anyone else would’ve understood what it meant to finish this… to make things right for him.”

For the first time, a genuine, almost bashful smile tugged at Lloyd’s lips. “Well,” he murmured, glancing away as if to gather himself. “I guess I’m not used to having… a purpose, outside of the usual work. But if it helps, I don’t mind sticking around a bit. This heart’s got a few more things left to finish.”

A warmth spread between you, unspoken but understood. You walked side by side, each step building a fragile but real trust, a bond forged by the life that connected you both.

And in that quiet understanding, you felt something new—a partnership, unexpected yet undeniable.

💘💘💘💘

Three months had passed since that fateful day, and the air felt different now. As you lay in the hospital room, exhaustion weighed heavy on your eyelids, yet there was a lightness in your heart that made you feel almost weightless. You glanced down at the tiny bundle cradled in your arms. Luna. The name felt perfect, a gentle reminder of the new beginnings even amidst the shadows of the past.

A nurse approached, her smile soft and reassuring as she gently placed Luna into your arms. The moment you held her close, the weight of loss surged anew—Justin should have been here to see her, to cherish her, to hold her just as you were now. But amid that ache was the undeniable warmth of a new blessing, a life that brought with it hope and love.

Luna’s soft face scrunched up as she let out a wail, filling the room with her cries. You rocked her gently, murmuring soothing words, but nothing seemed to calm her little soul. Your heart ached for her, for the world she had entered, one devoid of her father’s embrace.

Just then, the door swung open, and in stepped Lloyd, a striking figure against the sterile backdrop of the hospital. He carried a vibrant bouquet of flowers and a colorful balloon, a jarring contrast to the hospital’s muted tones. The moment he saw you with Luna, his breath caught in his throat, and he froze for a heartbeat, overwhelmed.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. His eyes fell to the small, crying bundle in your arms. “Is that…?”

“Luna,” you replied, a smile breaking through your melancholy as you glanced at him. “Our daughter.”

His heart raced as he took a tentative step closer, a blend of emotions flashing across his face—joy, wonder, and a flicker of anxiety at the sound of Luna’s cries. “Can I… hold her?” he asked, a rare vulnerability lacing his words.

You nodded, carefully passing Luna to him. As he cradled her, a cautious tenderness enveloped them both. The moment she nestled against his chest, Luna’s cries faded to soft whimpers, then silence. Lloyd’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he looked down at her, a mixture of awe and something deeper in his gaze.

“Did she just…?” he began, glancing up at you in disbelief.

You met his eyes, both of you sharing a moment that felt almost sacred. “She knows,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the connection shared between them, the heartbeat of Justin’s heart echoing through her small frame.

Lloyd swallowed hard, emotions welling up in his throat as tears brimmed in his eyes. “I—” he stammered, the words catching in his chest.

As he held Luna close, his tears began to spill over, tracing silent paths down his cheeks. It was a mix of happiness and sorrow—a bittersweet farewell and a joyful hello all at once. “I think Justin finally met her,” he murmured, his voice cracking as he looked back down at Luna. “And now… it’s like he’s leaving, but in a good way. He’s passing the torch.”

You watched as Lloyd’s face transformed, understanding washing over him like a wave. In that moment, the profound significance of new life enveloped the room, binding all three of you in an unspoken promise. “He’d be so proud of her,” you said softly, your heart swelling with emotion.

“Yeah,” Lloyd replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, a smile breaking through the tears. “And I’ll make sure she knows it.”

As Luna cooed softly in his arms, you felt the weight of loss lift just a little. Here, amidst the tears and joy, life had found a way to weave a new tapestry, one rich with love and remembrance, and in that shared moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

The End

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 month ago

Text

Sometimes you need to drift apart from someone to truly understand how much you belong together.

Almost exactly a year after their painful breakup, Azriel and Eris unexpectedly meet again and find themselves trapped together in a snowstorm. With no choice but to spend time together in a small space, the long hours lead to conversations of their past, memories of their adventures togethers, unresolved feelings and heartbreak…

This is my @acotargiftexchange gift for the lovely and absolutely wonderful @daycourtofficial It was a delight being your secret santa💛 I hope you have a very peaceful and calm Christmas filled with so much joy! Sending you love!🎄

Story Playlist

Let Her Go - Passenger

Wish You the Best - Lewis Capaldi

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

Last Christmas - Wham!

O Holy Night - Mariah Carey

Flowers - Miley Cyrus

Let Me Down Slowly - Alec Benjamin

It Gets Better - Martin Luke Brown

read the whole story below the cut // or on ao3

Dimmed by the snowstorm that has been raging on for days, New York is blanketed in an endless, thick sheet of white. It crunches beneath his polished boots as Eris hurries down the streets, the cool air burning down his throat and landing harshly in his lungs as he tries to catch a cab within all the holiday chaos — many people are leaving, others are returning. The city has turned into an even more intense bustling hub of people and traffic, full of flashing lights and noises.

Eris blows out a long breath, watching the gleam of the street lanterns flicker behind the snow swirling in the air. Traffic is crawling through the mud-coloured slush on the streets and he hopes to finally catch sight of a cab. Otherwise he will be late (he is already late, but not yet too late). He fears he will miss his plane and only over his dead body will he stay alone in New York for Christmas. He has been alone enough in the last year, but certainly not on Christmas. Not on a holiday that is all about family and being together with your loved ones.

Family. His suitcase is filled to the brim with presents for his family. His mother, his youngest brother, his sister-in-law and his beloved niece, Dalia. If his other brothers will show up, is still in the stars – they never announce their visit beforehand.

The harsh, cold wind and snow bite through the layers of his clothes, slowly creeping under his skin. He shivers and clenches his jaw. He‘ll be damned if he catches a cold now…

As he waits, lifting his hand every now and then to signal a cab to stop which still hasn’t happened, Eris watches snow collect on the bare branches of trees and pile on window sills nearby. His breath hangs in the air, each exhale a small cloud in the freezing cold that surrounds him. He can’t wait to leave the city and get back home. To be inside the warm and cosy living room of his mother’s and his step-dad’s house, the smell of the delicious dishes his sister-in-law has cooked wafting through the air.

He likes going home. He likes being home. For a few days, a few weeks. He always quickly realises he misses New York. New York is his new home. The place he loves to live at. However, there’s a loneliness here he can’t shake—there is too much anonymity, too much loneliness in this big city. And Eris hates it. He craves connection, friendships, a sense of belonging. He wants someone—

A sharp honk jolts him from his thoughts, startles him so much his eyes widen in shock and the breath gets caught in his throat.

"Been waiting for me, buddy?"

At last—a taxi! Eris thinks and exhales a relieved breath. He nods in answer, a hint too excitedly. And as he slides into the back seat, pulling his suitcase and bag in with him, he says, "To the airport, please."

The cab driver glances at him in the rearview mirror, cheerful and unfazed. "Alrighty," he replies brightly, his voice nearly drowned out by Last Christmas blaring from the radio. Pushing his foot down on the gas pedal, he sets off immediately. The cab ploughs through the thickening slush, its tires skidding slightly as it moves down streets illuminated by streetlights and colourful Christmas garlands decorating shops and buildings.

Eris rests his head against the window, watching as snowflakes swirl under the streetlights. Despite the Christmas spirit and him looking forward to seeing his family, his chest all of a sudden feels heavy with longing and sadness (not so suddenly actually, he has been feeling like this almost all throughout December). Only a year ago, he had spent Christmas with the most amazing person in the world and then—

"My name’s Suri. I came here, three—no let me think, five years ago. Love that city, great place for people, isn’t it?"

Absently, Eris answers with a quiet, "Mhm", his gaze still locked on the outside world and the snow.

Unaffected by his indifference, Suri continues. "Yo, stranger, where I picked you up, that’s close to my fave Italian restaurant. Have you tried the Pepperoni pizza there? Changed my life, let me tell you that. And don’t even get me started on the Burgers from … man, I don’t remember the shop. The one with the blue sign, it glows at night, right next to the shop selling all those designer bags …"

Eris, even if he deems it rude, zones out. Finally, he can get some rest. Finally, after months full of stress and emotional exhaustion. A few days with his family, with his niece and his beloved dogs. Deep within his heart he knows he deserves it. He deserves this time after everything he has been through. After him.

"Ever been to Times Square on New Year’s Eve? Did you like it? I think it’s magical, but way too crowded to really enjoy it."

Perfect for the first kiss with a man you think you will spend your whole life with only for him to tear your heart out and rip it into shreds a few years later, Eris thinks but doesn’t say out loud. He only sighs loudly and closes his eyes.

They have moved from Last Christmas to O Holy Night and Mariah Carey‘s voice fills the inside of the cab, singing happily and cheerily.

"But you know, despite all the noise, the people and the large crowds, there’s something about this city" … Suri pauses. A dramatic pause that turns into him singing parts of the lyrics along with Mariah before continuing. "No matter where you are from, no matter who you are, you will always find someone who understands you. Who sees you for who you are. Who likes you. Who sees the good in you and who loves you for who you are."

Eris‘ breathing deepens as the back of his throat starts to ache. He hates that. Hates that Suri‘s words shake him to the core. Hates that suddenly silver lines his eyes.

"One day you randomly meet a stranger, and five minutes later, you are sharing life stories or you will end up snogging in the restroom of a bar and then end up in their bed. And two years later you are happily married and you are expecting your first child. But whatever, what‘s your name stranger?"

It takes him a moment to answer, sharply ripped from his thoughts, from all the memories of their time together flooding his mind like tidal waves. A lump has formed in his throat that makes it almost impossible for him to answer, to breathe.

Eris coughs. Once. Twice, not wanting to be rude and not answer. "Eris," he eventually replies, his voice tense as he clutches his bag to his chest. "My name is Eris."

“Funny name,” Suri replies with a chuckle. “Isn’t that a Greek goddess?”

“The goddess of strife and discord.” Eris presses his lips in a thin line, turning his head to the side again. Piles of snow line the edges of the sidewalks. Eris' gaze follows them as the traffic is moving slow, his thoughts unfocused now that old wounds have been ripped open. He can’t be necessarily mad at Suri for bringing up all the things, but he somehow is.

He tried so hard to get rid of all the thoughts, the memories and now … now it’s all he can think about. As they pass Central Park, the usual vibrance seems muted by the snow, colder and darker and a shudder courses through Eris – either from his longing or the cold he is still feeling. He knows that Central Park’s appearance mirrors the feelings deep within him. Cold. Dark. Sad.

Suri continues to ramble, to sing cheerily, unaffected by Eris’ indifference.

Eris is no longer listening to him, or rather no longer listening again, the only sound in his ears the sad beat of his heart. And his voice, his laugh in his mind and it hurts just like a year ago. Hurts just like every damn day of the previous year.

Finally, the airport’s glow appears through the haze, bright lights cutting through the heavy snowfall and Eris straightens. The taxi pulls up close by one of the entrances, tires crunching over snow and then stops. His eyes close for a moment, and when Suri tells him the price for the ride, Eris lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Finally. Finally he is going home and can forget about all the sadness for at least a few days.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

The relief about having arrived at the airport vanishes within seconds. It feels like a harsh slap to Eris’ face, one that almost knocks him off his feet, sending him flying through the air, and ends in a brutal landing on his butt.

“Fuck,” Eris curses under his breath and his stomach drops at the sight of him. His ex-boyfriend—his ex-fiancé.

The dark-haired man looks equally surprised to see Eris, equally uncomfortable, a forced smile stretching across his lips that Eris doesn’t reciprocate when their eyes meet. He only walks towards Azriel - well, rather towards his gate. Or their gate apparently. It only makes sense that Azriel is here but at the same time doesn’t. They grew up in villages that weren’t far apart, but what are the chances that Azriel would also wait until the last minute to fly back home for Christmas?

Eris‘ heart pounds in disbelief, heat rising in his face when the smile, this stupidly handsome smile, doesn’t fade from his ex-lovers face. The audacity!

The boldness makes Eris’ nostrils flare and anger blaze through his veins, the audacity of Azriel to smile and act like everything is alright when he had been the sole to destroy his heart.

"We aren’t meant for one another," he had told him back then and it butchered every part of Eris‘ heart that hadn’t been broken before. He was left in pieces when the man he loved most left him and now said man dares to smile at him.

The only thing that brings Eris comfort is that Azriel isn’t as chill about their surprised meeting as he pretends to be. He is nervously clenching and unclenching his hands—his scarred hands, caused by a kitchen fire in his childhood.

Eris remembers how often he rubbed salve on those hands in winter, how he kissed them, how he held them close and warmed them. Not that it ended up meaning anything to Azriel.

Eris‘ eyes dart away, hoping that when he looks back, his ex is gone. But luck has never been on his side. Obviously Azriel, and his awful smile are still there.

It‘s only a few more steps and Eris can feel how his chest tightens more and more, how awkward he suddenly thinks he must look walking towards him. He gets a sudden urge to flee, run, but he is rooted to the ground (and 32 and running would be very, very childish in his mind).

A forced calmness, almost like cool boredom, falls in place on his face and masks his swirling emotions, masks the hurt that is rooted so deeply within his heart.

"Hello Eris." Azriel is the one to speak up first and despite feeling an enormous amount of anger, his smokey voice still causes the same reaction in Eris—chills all over his body. "It’s—"

But Eris holds up a hand to stop him. "Don‘t say it’s good to see me, I really don’t need another lie on top of all the lies you have told me in the past." He shows him a sardonic grin and steps past him, hating that he let his mask drop and his bitterness could reach the surface.

Before Eris can settle into the awkwardness of their first conversation after a year of not talking to one another and his frustration over this conversation even happening, a loud noise sounds through the speakers of the airport. The screeching makes him cringe but doesn’t shock him even half as much as the announcement that is made a second later.

"Dear Passengers, due to the worsening of the snowstorm and the current weather situation we are sorry to inform you that all flights have been cancelled. No planes will leave John F. Kennedy airport this evening and throughout the night. Thank you for understanding. Hotels and hostels closeby will be offering…"

Within seconds, the airport erupts in chaos, frustrated groans and sighs rippling through the shocked and furious crowd and making it impossible for Eris to hear the rest of what is said but he can assume that hotels are offering rooms to those stranded at the airport without a place to go for the night.

Well, at least I can go home and not have to find a hotel, Eris thinks to himself even if a peach-sized weight settles into heart that makes him feel nothing but sadness and disappointment about not seeing his family anytime soon. On Christmas. It means he will be alone on Christmas, and as much as he tries to ignore the fact, the back of his mouth starts to ache as tears start to burn behind his eyes.

Reluctantly, he turns back and finds Azriel still standing where he last saw him. The man’s face has fallen in disbelief and for a split second Eris feels bad for him, knowing Azriel will probably be all alone as well. The moment of compassion, however, passes too quickly to really leave an impact on Eris. He shakes it off, thinking that if Azriel hadn’t ruined everything, he wouldn’t be alone now. If Azriel hadn’t ruined everything they would have spent Christmas together…

Eris feels how his head starts to spin and buzz from all the noises around him. Phones are ringing as passengers search for ideas on how to escape the airport and queues, long queues, form instantly at the desks of the airport. The tension in the air thickens with frustration and involuntary him and Azriel exchange an uncertain glance before his ex turns away and heads for the exit.

Finally he is gone, Eris thinks, hoping to not see Azriel again so soon. Or ever. He hopes he never has to see him again. Never has to have an encounter with him again.

Mutters of annoyance and disbelief fill the air around Eris, and it almost gets to the point of being overwhelming. He wants to get out of here immediately, but not before trying to book another flight in the morning. Eris approaches the counter, or rather the queue in front of it, his heart beating unsteadily.

The lady at the counter shakes her head, “I have no information, I have already told you so. Come back in the morning, we will know more by then.” Without another word, she turns the sign on the desk so that it says "closed" instead of "open", turns off her computer and locks up the counter.

Frustration and sadness flicker in Eris’ eyes and he rubs his hand over his chin before summoning the strength to turn around and walk away. He somehow doesn’t fully want to believe it. He will truly be alone on Christmas and only God knows when there will be a next chance to see his family. This hurts. Christmas all alone. Without his family. He wasted a holiday at work only so he could see his family and only to end up completely alone in the end. What a shame!

Seeing Eris again after all this time has unsettled Azriel more than he likes to admit. Covering his face with his forearm, Azriel heads out into the snowstorm and realises that it has indeed worsened.

"God," Azriel breathes and his heart drops even lower than it did when seeing Eris before. New York has turned into a snow chaos, you can barely make out any buildings, or trees or people, or anything.

In addition, speaking to the cab drivers lined up in front of the airport is equally disappointing as getting the flight being cancelled and having to run into Eris out of everyone he could have run into. So, reluctantly Azriel returns inside a heavy weight of sorrow resting upon his chest about not seeing his family—his found family and his mother— for Christmas and having to spend it all alone once more.

Last year he wasn’t alone, last year he was with—Speak of the devil!

Just as he steps inside, his body collides with the one person he really didn’t want to bump into again.

Eris’ expression is equally grim as his own and as he tries to hurry past him, however Azriel’s arm flies forward before he can think about what he is doing and he holds Eris back.

“No cabs,” Azriel says, frustration ringing loud in his voice. “It’s too dangerous, streets are shutting down and the cab drivers won‘t take a risk. Only option is to call someone for a ride." He lets go of Eris‘ arm when he feels the man’s body tense beneath his palm.

Eris’ face falls instantly. “I have no one to pick me up," he breathes and the look on his face almost makes Azriel want to wrap him into his arms and tell him that he will be fine. “I was going to my family, no one is here, no one can pick me up.”

Azriel nods and a deep sigh parts his lips, “Same.”

Silence falls upon them like a heavy sheet that almost crushes them beneath it, and yet an unspoken bond of shared helplessness forms between them.

"So I guess we need to find a hotel then. Come on."

We. We! Azriel has long ago stopped hoping he would ever hear Eris referring to them as we. He stopped when he ended things between them. When he became the reason for Eris to stop referring to them as we. Azriel never wanted to, but it was for the best. For Eris. But now the We is back and a kernel of hope, of happiness, flickers back to life deep within Azriel’s chest.

>>>>>>

"We are sorry but there is only one room available." The lady with the tight bun on top of her head presses her lips in a thin line, clearly frustrated. "I have told you before and all the money in the world that you are willing to give me won’t make another room appear, Mr Vanserra. There is only one room left, you're not the only one stranded at the airport tonight." Her tone is so sharp, it could almost cut through the wood of her desk.

It’s now the third hotel close to the airport. The first two had no room left, this one only one.

Eris begins to nod, reluctantly, and gives in. It is what it is, he thinks. They will have to stay here, because walking back to their apartments in the snowstorm is definitely not an option. For neither of them. He doesn’t know where Azriel now lives, but he guesses it isn’t close-by either.

"All right, we‘ll take it." He snatches the keycard from the desk and tilts his head towards the staircase, signalling Azriel that they are moving now. Azriel looks equally annoyed over the fact of having to spend at least the rest of the evening and the night with no other than his ex-boyfriend in a hotel room.

A very small hotel room.

The room is even smaller than expected, but at least somehow cosy, Eris thinks. With a double bed and a small desk and drawer and a lamp on top that casts a warm glow upon the dark brown carpet and wallpaper, it looks almost comfortable. But who cares about cosy and comfortable when you are trapped with your ex?

Eris realises that Azriel is worse at hiding his obvious irritation about the size of the room than he himself when he catches him cringes.

He takes it as a chance to shoot something at him, and make his frustration air. The door falls shut behind them and Eris turns to Azriel, scowling. “Don’t make a face like this. It’s not like we haven’t shared a room before,” Eris grumbles and Azriel flashes him an incredulous look.

"You wouldn’t even properly say hello to me at the airport and now—"

"Now we are trapped in a snowstorm, so we better accept our fate and move on."

"Right," Azriel groans, pressing his lips in a thin line. "Then I get the bed."

"Obviously, not. I get the bed. Remember, my sensitive back."

"You‘re just old," Azriel bites back.

Eris glares at him, bracing his knee on the mattress. "I have a sensitive back!"

Azriel mirrors his movement. "And you‘re old."

"I‘m only two years older than you."

"You‘re closer to forty than I am."

"You‘re impossible, Azriel." Eris shakes his head.

"You‘re egoistic. That’s probably why we broke up in the first place."

An emotion, almost like regret, flashes in Azriel’s eyes for having said these words.

Yet, he gets no chance to apologise. Eris won’t give him one. He turns away sharply and plops down onto the carpeted floor. He says nothing as he leans his head against the wall, and closes his eyes.

His heart hurts too much to speak.

>>>>>>>>

Azriel knows that it was wrong to say what he said. Eris had not once been egoistic. And so it clearly wasn’t the reason for their break up. The reason for their breakup was … far more complex.

Azriel loved Eris, but knew he had never been good enough for someone like Eris. Eris is perfect and Azriel is … far from perfect.

He has never stopped thinking that.

Eris comes from a rich English family that moved to America when Eris was only a few years old. Their family business thrived even more here—boomed, to be specific. Eris, other than most of his brothers, didn’t enter into the company but became a doctor instead. Which is still a completely different world than the one Azriel lives in—growing up only with his mother who had worked three jobs at a time so she could make a living. Azriel loves his mother, and he liked his childhood—to clarify, the parts that he didn’t have to spend with his awful father.

A sigh parts Azriel’s lips, cutting through the heavy silence that has fallen over them. He cast a sidelong glance at Eris, watching the deep frown on his beautiful face as he concentrates on something on his phone.

Azriel has absentmindedly been watching the news on the TV, the volume turned silent, only looking at the pictures, too distracted by the tension in the air to truly focus. Unsaid words linger in the space between them, words of apology and forgiveness, but neither of them is ready to speak up yet.

So Azriel retreats to his own thoughts, turning off the TV and leaning his head back, resting it against the bed frame. Memories of their past—of their shared past— slowly start to slither into his mind like greedy snakes, feasting on his pain.

The first time they met was at a party of his best friend Rhys and his girlfriend Feyre. Their first meeting was all stolen glances across the room, soft chatter and a too-drunk kiss in the kitchen, sloppy and needy, both of them using too much tongue and tasting of liquor and smoke. It made them both laugh.

He remembers when they first held hands in public, the looks people gave them and how Eris had assured Azriel that they were fine. Eris had dated men before him, Azriel hadn’t. Eris was his first. His first everything when it came to being with a man. He was worried, almost scared, at the beginning, but everything eased quickly and he fell madly in love with Eris Vanserra.

He has never stopped being in love with him.

The thing he loved most about their time together were their late-night conversations where they shared dreams and memories. Another thing he loved was going to concerts with Eris. They went to see Hozier and Ed Sheeran, and went to Coachella together.

Azriel’s eyes flicker open and he glances at Eris again, but the man is still focused on his phone. His posture is tense and stiff, his jaw clenched.

Azriel desperately wants the frown to vanish from Eris’ face and see his ex smile again. He loved when Eris smiled, loved it even more when he laughed—it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world. He loved hearing it. He wants to hear it again.

They had so many inside jokes they could probably laugh an entire day about them. And their playful teasing was one of Azriel’s favourite things in the world. He always acted annoyed but deep inside him, he loved them.

His eyes close again. Involuntarily, a sad smile appears on his lips at the memories, at the quiet mornings they spent in bed, limbs entangled. At the shared meals they often cooked together, or simply held each other close, talking softly until late into the night. The I love yous they shared. So many of them. And each one was sincere and honest.

As his thoughts start to stray, Azriel cheeks start to warm.

He also loved sex with Eris. The man always made him feel like he was a king, like he deserved the world, like it was all about his pleasure, about making him feel good. And he did, every time they were intimate, even if it was just a quick, shared moment of desire in the bathroom before both needed to go to work.

Work. It hits Azriel like a slap and makes his blood run cold. Work was a major reason for their breakup. Or at least, in Azriel’s opinion, it was.

It started with small arguments, mostly fueled by Azriel’s frustration about finding a job, then losing it because the company had to reduce its number of employees. Obviously, Azriel thought that he wasn’t good enough and so they chose him and kicked him out. Then months of hopeless searching for a new job came, only to lose the next one as well. The stress had got the best of him and he found himself unloading it all on Eris, reminding himself over and over again that he wasn’t good enough for the Vanserra and Eris deserved much better.

He didn’t even have enough money to take Eris out on a proper date or buy him large, fancy gifts. Obviously Eris would never say that it bothered him. The doctor never said that it bothered him that Azriel lived in his flat without having to pay a penny, and always assured him that he would soon find a job. Azriel wanted to believe that, but failed.

Working in IT can be incredible, but only when you had a secure job—and finding that security was the biggest challenge he ever faced. Only recently, around four months ago, he finally managed to land something secure. Hopefully.

Azriel swallows thickly and the back of his mouth starts to ache. He clenches his jaw.

The silence in the room feels almost oppressive at this point, pressing down on him and making it hard for him to breathe. He opens his eyes again.

Apparently, Azriel isn’t the only one to think so, the only one who can no longer stand the silence between them.

Eris is shifting uncomfortably, then he turns to Azriel. He clears his throat and his eyes briefly brush Azriel’s. "Your mother, Eleni, … have you informed her that you are trapped here?"

After all this time, Azriel thinks, Eris still worries about my mother. He still worries. He still cares.

"I sent her a message." Azriel’s voice is hoarse, raspy from not talking for a while.

A curt nod is Eris‘ answer, lips pressed in a firm line.

"Did you inform your family?"

"I told Lucien, he will tell mum. I believe my father couldn’t care less about me coming home or not. I think he couldn’t care less about me not being there. I’m not even sure I will go see him this year…"

In the past, Eris always found it difficult to talk about his family situation and Azriel knows that he was one of the few people that Eris opened up to. He told him about his mother and her new partner, about Beron staying in the family home and that Imala had to move out when they got their divorce.

And there it is, Eris opening up again, not shutting him out. Azriel will take this as a chance and a kernel of relief blooms within him. He shifts on the bed, moving closer to his ex-boyfriend still sitting on the carpeted floor.

"The situation hasn’t changed?" Azriel carefully asked. It is a stupid question, he knows this. As long as Eris loves men, his father will despise him. Nothing will ever change about that—it is the same with his own father.

"He won’t change. He will never change, Azriel."

Finally, Eris really meets his gaze, his eyes are nothing but sad. Azriel fights the urge to reach out, to brush his cheek, his hair, his shoulder and kiss the sadness away. He can’t stand it, seeing Eris like this. He never could.

"But whatever. It‘s just my father and I only have to see him two to three times a year." Eris wears a sardonic smile as he shakes his head. "How‘s life been treating you lately?"

I miss you every day, Eris, Azriel thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. Obviously he doesn’t say so. He was the one to end things back then.

So, he only shrugs his shoulders. "I can’t complain. I landed a job in this start-up company and it’s looking really good. Finally something that seems secure."

"I’m glad to hear this." The honesty in Eris‘ smile, mirrors the one in his eyes. He means it.

"Meaning I can finally give you back all the money and—"

"The fuck you will, Azriel!" The smile on Eris’ lips immediately turns into a scowl—his eyes ablaze with anger. "It wasn’t like I was your sugar daddy. I paid for the flat because it was my flat and—"

"I lived there as well."

"It was still my flat. I got to keep it after our breakup while you had to find a new place to live. Hell, where do you even live now?"

"Staten Island," Azriel answers flatley.

Eris acknowledges the information with a curt nod.

"You took me on dates—"

"Because I wanted to. I wanted to take you out and go to places with you. I also benefited from these dates and trips, it wasn’t just for you. I enjoyed myself too."

"You paid for my Coachella ticket."

"It was your birthday present." Eris shakes his head again. "I have never cared about spending money, and especially not about spending money on things we could do together. That we would enjoy together. As a couple. I loved spending time with you and I couldn’t care less if we needed money for it or not. It was never about the price, only about being with you."

The words shake Azriel to the core, landing like a harsh slap on his cheek.

He is frozen in place for a moment, unable to say something. Then after a second and a deep breath, he opens his mouth. "I liked spending time with you as well." Azriel throws his statement into the room like it physically pains him to say so.

"Clearly,” Eris says, his tone sarcastic, “so much that you broke up with me."

"These are two completely different pairs of shoes, Eris," Azriel groans. "And don’t make it sound like breaking up with you was so easy for me."

"Well it seemed rather easy for you." Eris crosses his arms over his chest, glowering as he looks up at Azriel.

Azriel presses his lips in a thin line. His eyes close, then open, and he flexes his fingers. "Can you please sit up here with me. I can’t talk to you like that. Not when you are still sitting on the floor."

A frown graces Eris‘ face, but eventually he rises —reluctantly and slowly— and joins Azriel on the bed, sinking into the soft cushions, but keeping a fine distance between him and Azriel.

He seems to hesitate, but eventually says, “I never got closure. I have never stopped thinking about what I have done wrong, how I could have fixed all the things broken. Why I didn't see the signs before it was too late." Eris’ voice is low and vulnerable.

Azriel looks away, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Ending our relationship wasn’t as easy as I made it seem.”

"Right." A sardonic chuckle from Eris‘ lips.

"I mean it." Azriel’s frustration rises as the pain from the past resurfaces. Memories of many nights crying alone in bed, or in Cass‘ or Rhys‘ arms, or drunk at a bar at three am, resurface.

"And still you just left… and my heart was torn apart and broken into a million pieces," Eris spits, the hurt loud and clear in his voice as he turns his head away sharply, almost as if dismissing Azriel as his gaze fixates on the storm still raging outside the window.

Emotionally charged silence hangs between them in the moments that follow. Azriel’s stomach twists with regret, his throat tightening when he says, "I’m so sorry." He knows it is a stupid thing to say, too little, too late, but he really is sorry. Their relationship should have never ended like this. It should have never ended.

>>>>>>>>

They exchange a look after Azriel‘s unasked apology. Their gazes linger and it twists his gut. The hurt is palpable, and eventually Eris says, "I have never moved on." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine myself without you."

Azriel releases a deep breath as the words settle between them. "I‘ve felt the same way."

After their mutual revelations, they lose the eye contact again as if looking at each other would make them do something irrational. Something stupid. And yet, unconsciously, Eris‘ pinky finger brushes Azriel’s. The other tenses, body going stiff and Eris notices how Azriel suddenly holds his breath. But then, to his surprise, he moves his hand as well, and slides it into Eris‘.

Eris freezes, almost shocked, his heart lurching in his chest. He can feel the sparks between their hands. The chemistry has not faded, electricity still erupts between their palms whenever they touch. Even a year after their break up.

Eris steals a quick glance at Azriel, noticing how his cheeks have turned rosy and how a small smile plays on his lips. He promptly averts his gaze again, looking at the frost-covered windows and the still heavy snowfall outside. A deep breath parts his lips, and he realises that his chest no longer feels so heavy, so tight.

“It’s scary, but also beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

"The snowstorm?" Azriel asks in a soft whisper.

"Love." This time when he turns his head, Azriel is already looking at him, eyes heavy-lidded as they momentarily brush Eris‘ lips and then immediately snap up to his eyes again.

For Eris it somehow feels like the moment he saw Azriel for the first time. How he fell in love with Azriel at first sight. The moment at the party when their eyes met for the first time. Azriel is more beautiful than any other man he has ever seen before. He isn’t only beautiful on the outside, but also deep within his heart – the part Eris fell in love with.

The Vanserra shifts uncomfortably on the bed, the space between them too big but at the same time too narrow. He tears his gaze away from Azriel, not wanting to do something irrational like all of a sudden kiss him. He really wants to, but knows how stupid it would be. It would make everything ever more complicated and if there is something he really doesn’t need in his life on top of everything else than it is complication. Especially when it comes to his ex-boyfriend.

He turns his attention back to the snowstorm, to the frost outside while his own heart - fully of its own accord - starts to warm within him. His voice is a quiet mutter, almost swallowed by the silence around them when he says, "I never understood your intentions, Azriel. One moment you were here and everything seemed fine, and the next you grew distant and threw everything away."

Azriel’s face falls, the small smile fading as frustration flickers in his eyes. "There had been a distance between us long before."

"A distance you forced between us," Eris cuts in sharply, voice laced with bitterness. His jaw tightens, and he turns back to look at Azriel with a mixture of pain and anger in his auburn eyes.

"It wasn’t just me or my fault. You played your role in it as well."

Eris‘ eyes widen in surprise. "I loved you, Azriel. And I would have given everything for you, for our love. I even cut strings with my father, for you. For us!"

Azriel flinches at the words, a flash of hurt crossing over his face before he quickly hides it. He breathes in deeply. Once, twice, a few times. Then he exhales a long breath and lets his chin fall to his chest. "That‘s part of the problem. I didn’t want you to do it. To have to do this. Not because of me. He is your family. I wanted to protect you from … losing him." His voice is thick with emotion, trembling as silver starts to line his eyes.

Eris lets out a shaky breath. "Protect me from losing them? I would have never lost my family. My real family, the people who care about me and love me. And when it comes to my father? I wouldn’t really call it a loss. I hate that man." He shakes his head with a loud snort. "You should have talked to me. You made the decision of the breakup for both of us without even giving me a chance to talk to you. Wanting to protect me but destroying me in the course of it.”

"I was scared you wouldn’t understand and I’d only end up hurting you more. I thought you would be much better off without me and eventually would forget about me.”

Eris is shaken by his ex-boyfriend's revelation. His anger falters as his hands start to tremble. "Forget you? Forget us and everything we had? Azriel, you were the only person I could never forget. I loved you more than my own life. You were my world.”

Azriel’s eyes glisten, his shoulders lifting and falling with deep breaths. "I could never forget you either. You were … everything to me, Eris. Everything I had in this damn city and everything I loved… I love the most in the world."

Eris reaches up to wipe away a tear, then swallows roughly. He wants to say something, anything, but he is at a loss of words. Especially when Azriel continues, his truth shaking Eris to the core.

“I never stopped loving you, Eris. Not for a single second," Azriel admits in a voice laden with regret.

A sheet of heavy silence falls over them as the words sink in. Eris is unable to answer, to do anything. He only looks at the wall across from them, replaying Azriel’s revelation in his mind.

Eventually Eris lowers his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper when he says, “I couldn’t move on either. It was simply impossible.” He gives his head a little shake before lifting his gaze again. "Did you… try moving on with someone else?"

Azriel’s throat bobs. "I’ve tried it. Tried dating. But … nothing felt like it did with you," he admits. "Nothing felt like you. No one did."

Their fingers are still naturally laced together, as if they belong together. Because they do, Eris thinks. Because their hands belong together just as much as they do.

"What do you mean?" he asks in a quiet voice.

Azriel’s features soften. "With you, I felt good, seen and loved. Respected and happy. I felt alive. I loved being with you, and experiencing everything the universe had planned for us. I was a fool for what I did. For ending … us. It is my biggest regret in life. My biggest mistake."

When their eyes meet again, there is a spark in Eris‘ eyes—a silent question, a flicker of hope.

The space between them grows narrow, their breaths mingling as they slowly lean closer. Azriel’s gaze drops to Eris’s lips, then back up, as if silently asking for permission. Their foreheads touch, their eyes close and then, slowly, tentatively, their lips meet.

The kiss is hesitant, almost as if they have never kissed before. As if their lips have never touched before, as if their lips have never kissed every part of the other‘s body before.

The moment is too precious, too fragile to rush anything. They want to enjoy it. Bringing one hand up, Eris lets it glide over Azriel’s arm, to his shoulder and eventually to the back of Azriel’s head where he tangles his fingers into the silken strands at the nape of his neck. He wants to deepen the kiss, devour Azriel‘s lips and savour every small moment of it.

However, he makes the plan without Azriel‘s mum. A sudden, shrill ringing cuts through the moment, making them pull away from each other sharply.

Azriel seems to be needing a moment to gather his thoughts, appearing slightly confused as he looks around him, confusion flickering across his face, before reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. "Mom!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with surprise as he presses the phone to his ear. "I'm fine, yes. And yes, I have food. What—I didn’t get that?"

Eris chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, before he drags his hand down his face. Then with the confidence of a man who has just kissed his ex-boyfriend who seems to miss him just as much as he does, he reaches out, tipping Azriel's chin up with two fingers, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"Tell her I miss her," he mouths to Azriel.

The man, his phone still against his head, shoves Eris’ hand away and then flips him off.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Azriel says then, smiling as their eyes meet again. "Don’t worry about me, I‘m alright. More than alright. I‘m looked after." His smile turns into something akin to a grin and then he begins to nod. "I will tell you everything when I‘m home. Love you, see you soon. Bye—yes, don’t worry. Yes! Mom! Good, Love you."

Azriel is blushing when he lowers his phone to the mattress, a sheepish smile on his lips. "Where were we?" he asks and leans in again.

Eris mirrors his movement, yet the moment their lips brush, he doesn’t kiss the other, but instead says, "There is something else, right? Another reason you broke up with me. Tell me. Be honest with me. Please. I deserve that."

Azriel’s eyes flutter shut, his trembling lids mirroring the quivering of his lips. He seems to fight with his emotions, struggling to find the right words, but also finally ready to reveal the whole truth he has been holding back the past year.

He swallows audibly and opens his eyes again. Unshed tears form in them as they lock with Eris‘ auburn ones.

"I felt like a burden to you, Eris," Azriel admits, and releases a deep sigh. "You always paid for everything. You worked so hard, while all I ever did was search for jobs—only to find one and lose it within a month. Someone like me will never be good enough for someone like you." He shakes his head, but Eris catches his face gently in his hands. His palms soft against the stubble on Azriel‘s jaw.

"I don’t deserve you, Eris," Azriel continues before his ex can speak. He is not done yet pouring out his heart and putting all the cards on the table. "I never did. I’m not a good guy and—"

"You are!" Eris interrupts, his voice shaking as tears start to line his eyes. "You are and you always were. This is absolute bullshit you're saying. You were never a burden to me."

"Maybe you didn’t realise how much—"

"How much I loved you? How little I cared about the fact that I was paying for most of our dates as you said before. I wouldn’t even have noticed if you hadn’t told me. I loved you, everything about you, every small detail and I couldn’t care less about how much money you brought into our relationship. We are not living in the Middle Ages anymore where the betrothed has to bring a certain amount of money into the marriage."

He drags in a deep breath, sliding his hands from his face to his shoulder, then gently, he pulls Azriel’s closer. “Azriel,” Eris begins, his voice low, “you were everything to me.”

Azriel’s lips part, and a shaky breath escapes. “You were everything to me.”

Eris’s hands begin to tremble, his own eyes watering. “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you. It was always you, Azriel. And it will—”

“And will forever be,” Azriel finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. "It will forever be you, Eris."

A faint smile tugs at Azriel’s lips as he adds, “Fucking fortunate that we were caught in this damn snowstorm.”

Eris lets out a quiet laugh at that, the sound easing some of the sadness between them.

"Otherwise we would have never talked…"

"We‘re idiots."

"You‘re an idiot, Azriel. You should have talked to me and not ended things without—"

"I know. I know I am and what I did was the worst mistake I could have ever made. I’m sorry."

Eris shifts on the bed, lying down. Azriel follows and lays his head down on Eris’s chest, right above his heart. Naturally, Eris’s hand finds its way to the nape of Azriel’s neck, his fingers threading softly into his hair.

Eris exhales a long breath. "I missed this."

"I missed you," Azriel sighs and his tears start to run freely.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

When Eris wakes, an odd feeling of familiarity overcomes him. His face is pressed against the juncture where Azriel‘s neck meets his shoulder, his arm tightly wrapped around the other man, their limbs entangled. In his nose, there is only the scent of Azriel, the cologne he always uses, dark and musky.

"Good morning, baby," Eris drawls in his sleepy, morning voice and his eyes open wide within an instant, while his heart slams to a halt. He notices his mistake immediately.

Baby.

God! It has just slipped through his lips. However Azriel, much to his own relief, doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t seem to consider it a mistake.With a lazy smile playing on his lips, the man turns in Eris‘ hold, then kisses Eris’ jaw.

"Morning, baby." The lazy smile quickly turns into a silly grin that makes Azriel, even though he is in his thirties, appear oddly boyish. "God! I missed the sound of you calling me that." He blows out a happy breath. "And I missed calling you that."

"I did too," Eris hums and lowers his forehead to Azriel‘s. He smiles, his heart oddly at ease. However the man below him starts to pout and wiggle in his hold. "Where is my good morning kiss?"

"Right here." Eris kisses him softly, carefully, and yet the hunger of all the time missed between them pours into it. Eris slides his tongue over the seam of Azriel’s lips, gently asking for entrance which the man happily grants him.

It is wonderful, Eris thinks, the feeling so familiar and warm. Their lips are made for one another, perfectly sealing, becoming one.

They kiss for a long time, so long they don‘t even notice that the snowstorm outside has started to calm, now only single, small flakes of white swirl around in the frosty December air.

Azriel’s starts to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Eris‘ neck, almost as if never wanting to let go again. He deepens the kiss, pressing his mouth against Eris‘ with quite an urgency as if to forget about everything that happened between them, as if to erase the 11 months that separated them.

The kiss is intense, needy, hungry, Eris realises, and suddenly the room feels too small, the walls too close, the space too narrow and he can’t breathe anymore.

He can’t keep kissing Azriel—not when their paths will part after today, anyway. Too much has happened between them, and some things can’t be undone. They can’t just go back to how things were before they broke up, can they?

Azriel must have noticed Eris’ sudden distraction, that he no longer focuses on the moment, on the kiss and so he slowly pulls back. And so does Eris.

Eris’ eyes shut and he wipes his hand down his face, his heart slumping.

"Fuck," he curses, and yet his voice is soft, and slightly hoarse. His hand lingers on Azriel’s face a moment longer, before he lets it drop to the pillow below.

"We still need to talk about—What this—what last night, what all of this means … to us." He exhales a long, shuddering breath. "For our future. And for us."

Azriel sucks in a shuddering breath. "I was an idiot." His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth in anger. "I projected everything I was feeling on you and that was wrong."

Their gazes finally meet again and lock. "I want to give us another chance. I want us to try again—" He stops himself, wipes his hand over his mouth and then adds, "Given that this is also what you want."

Hesitance and doubt settles in Eris gut like a heavy weight, making his breathing deepen.

"I promise I’ll do better this time. I‘ll stop convincing myself I’m not good enough for you. I‘ll stop believing that we don’t work out together."

A mix of many emotions flickers over Eris‘ face—worry, longing, fear, … love. He has never stopped loving Azriel, isn’t even sure he would ever be able to do so, but trying a relationship again when last time‘s end tore him into pieces…?

"Azriel…” he starts, but his voice trembles so hard he needs a moment to breathe. He turns his head away and his eyes close.

"I don’t want to lose you. Not again, Eris. Please … let me fight for us. I messed up. I messed up a lot, but I won’t make this mistake again."

Eris exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, still not looking at Azriel. "Last time the break up destroyed me. I can’t do this a second time. I won‘t survive it a second time."

"It won’t happen again. Never again. We will try and we will fight. I will fight to do better, I will—"

"I don’t want you to have to do this. I don’t want you to try and be better or do better. I want to be able to love you and that‘s all, Azriel."

Eris closes his eyes again, and when they open, he turns his head back to Azriel. "I want us to just love each other, without worrying about money or some similar bullshit. I want you, Azriel. Exactly how you are and not some other version of you, some fake version, some act you put on for my benefit. I want you the way you are right now, honest, sincere, vulnerable. I want the Azriel I got to know all those years ago." He pauses to breathe again.

"I’ve never stopped loving you. I want to be with you. All the distance between us, the time we couldn’t spend together showed me how much I actually love you, how much I need you in my life ,” he admits and of their own accord his hands reach out to pull Azriel in again.

"So, that‘s a yes to trying again?" Azriel places a soft kiss to Eris‘ chest, then fully snuggles his face into the other’s shirt.

Eris is about to answer, but takes a moment to consider. Then he kisses the top of Azriel‘s head. "I want us to give time." His fingers travel down the length of Azriel’s back and up again. "Let's not rush things now. We should give ourselves the time over Christmas to think about everything and then—"

"We‘ll meet and talk?" Azriel pushes up from Eris‘ chest, his sparkling eyes and his sheepish smile hopeful. "I‘ll be by back by the 28th and—"

"Me too." A faint smile forms on Eris‘ lips before he blows out a long, pent-up breath. "Don’t make me regret this."

tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @jules-writes-stories @unanswered-stars @christeareads @mistandmemories @bookishbroadwaybish @c-starstuff-man0 @talibunny30 @nestasgoodside @baileybird71

thank you so much for beta reading @queercontrarian @born-to-riot and @moonlightazriel🫶🏻

#azris #acotar #azriel #acosf #azriel x eris #secretsanta2024 #acotar gift exchange #eris vanserra

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neteyamslovrr · 2 years ago

Text

KXANI - FINAL

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 7.7k words, fem! reader, blood, war, violence, gore, death, gun violence, suggestive scenes (no smut), angst, fluff, avatar 2009

authors note: i cannot even begin to say how thankful i am for everyone reading this. truly the support and love i have been given because of this story i am so grateful. i mean look at that huge fucking taglist. i'm so happy you all have enjoyed the story so far as much I have enjoyed writing it. (btw formatting is a bit different just because it's so long)

all parts

The cell you were locked in was quiet. No one spoke, all too deep set in their grief to conjure any words. The white lights were close to blinding as you sat up against the wall, staring at the roof as all of your senses started to blend together.

Grace looked to you with a sigh, as she looked at all of her other colleagues. She was full of grief, she was mourning with the people even as she sat locked away from them. Jake was as well, his mind full of Neytiri’s screams, the screams that were directed at him.

The faint sound of the roll of a food cart could be heard in the distance. Was it already lunch? Had the days blurred as all of you rotted in this tedium room?

“What’s going on brother? Long time no see.” The sound of Trudy’s voice was like a weight lifted off all of your shoulders. You could see in Norm’s eyes as they lit up to the sound of her. She pushed in the cart, the solider guarding your cell getting up to inspect it. “Personally I don’t feel these tree hugging traitors deserve steak.”

“They get steak? Bullshit. Lemme see that.” Trudy chuckled as she grabbed the gun out of her belt, pressing it against the man’s skull as his body froze.

“Yeah y’know what that is. Down. All the way down.” Trudy held the man until he reached the ground. Her arm swung back as she hit the man’s head with a loud thud, his unconscious body hitting the ground.

“Trudy!” Norm yelled out to her, relieved to finally see her again. He was already standing at the glass door along with Grace. A wide smile on his face.

“Max!” The gangly scientist came running in. His fingers clumsily fidgeting with the techy key stuck in his pocket. The beep of the door was a signal for you all to start running, making your way through the corridors of the RDA base.

You all burst through each door, feet moving fast as you all made you way towards the ships. “Trudy! Go fire the ships!” Jake called out as Norm ran up to her, grabbing a hold of the pistol Trudy held out for him.

You ran beside Grace, Max lagging behind slightly. Jake had his gun out in a ready position as he moved ahead of the three of you.

“Here!” You grabbed the oxygen masks, handing on to Grace, then to Jake. Before putting one on yourself. You turned to Max who was watching the door closely. “Thankyou.” You patted his back before running off to catch up to Grace and Jake who were heading towards the ship.

Grace and Norm pulled Jake onto the ship, you held his chair in your hands readily to put it onto the aircraft. “C’mon!” Trudy yelled from her seat, the sounds of the blades chopping the air making it hard to here. But not loud enough to cover the noise of gas hissing out of the building above you. With the colonel standing on the deck firing at the group below. “I’m taking fire! Let’s go!”

You threw the chair into Norm’s arm as you climbed up into the body of the ship. Bullets racketeering off of the metal. Machinery whirling as Norm steadied you into the ship.

That’s when you felt it. This blinding pain that made you stumble into the ship. You couldn’t even fathom a word only tiny whimpers of pain as you gripped onto your side. The warm liquid pooling in your hands, as the sounds of your crew cheering was fading into nothing.

Your entire abdomen felt hot. It was burning as your body started to stain red. It was like your abdomen was sinking from the pressure of the pain. Like it was separating from your body as you clung onto the wound for the tiniest bit of relief.

“Norm you good? Grace? Shit.” Jake turned to you, his sudden changed in emotion making Grace and Norm both turn their heads towards you immediately.

You could only give him a faint smile as your bloody hands shook. “Y/N is hit!”

“What?”

“Norm get the trauma kit!” Grace yelled as Jake studied your injured physique. Norm ran to where the trauma kit was stored, fumbling to get the kit back to you.

“Just keep pressure on. You’re okay.” Jake was shocked, he had no idea what to do. You were in an incredulous amount of pain, but you refused to feed into it. You weren’t going to let this get you.

“I- I’m fine. I’m g-good.” You could barely make words as Grace ushered Jake to moved, immediately tending to your wounds.

Grace and Norm helped move you into the pod. Every movement sent a shockwave of pain into the rest of your body. Jake knew the pain, he knew it was debilitating so any ounce of dislike he had towards you shrivelled away. He couldn’t have you die, not when he knew there was a way to help you.

Grace pushed a needle into your arm as you hissed in pain. “Oh you big baby. You’ll be alright, you’ll be just fine.”

“Tsu’tey I want to see him.” Grace smiled down at you sadly, pushing the hair out of your face.

“Just focus on not dying okay?” Your lip quivered and Grace caught on, she saw your despair. Her heart hung heavy looking at the one she had treated poorly dying in front of her.

“Grace!” Jake whispered, calling her over to where he had sat himself in solitude, thinking of something to get back to the people, to get you back to Tsu’tey. He imagined if he were in your shoes. He’d be wanting nothing more to go to Neytiri, he understood you fully.

Grace walked over, twisting her brows in confusion waiting for him to say something. “I can get her help. The people. The people can help.” She scoffed at him in disbelief.

“Why would they help us?” Jake’s stare hardened, he knew she was right. But deep down he ached to be with the people again, to bring you to them. To help them, to help you.

Tsu’tey sat at the front of the clan now as Olo’eyktan, as they all sung to Eywa. Praying for refuge, praying for help. Every few seconds he would glance at you. Well, your body and his heart would ache, like he had been shot with an arrow straight through him. He wondered if the fall of Hometree was the last time he would ever get to see you.

He wondered if you embracing him after the destruction was the only time he got to truly hold you. In a time of sorrow and a time of death. He wondered if that was the last time you ever would talk to him.

If he would never be able to fully apologise for his action. That he would never truly be able to convey just how much he yearns for you, how much it pained him to push you away. How much he regrets it all, that it was only for his promise. His promise to Neytiri that he shattered your heart.

He wished that he could mend it back together. He wished that you would come back to him so that the times you spend with him, the time when he did not hold back his affections. That they would not be in times of war. He wanted those times to be joyous.

He was broken out of his depressing thoughts as the light suddenly vanished and the sound of large gusts of wind filled his ears. Dust erupted from off of the ground as the loud screech of Toruk was heard.

Tsu’tey stood up, his eyes wide and pupils blown in astonishment. He had to blink a few times to even realise that he was not dreaming. The Jakesully was Toruk Makto. The alien that led them to the destruction of Hometree was Toruk Makto.

He watched as Jake made his way towards Neytiri. Parting through the people as they stood in awe. The laid their hands on each other as they shared a moment. It made his heart twinge. If Jake was back, why weren’t you?

“Tsu’tey, son of Ateyo. I stand before you, ready to serve the Omaticaya people.” Jake spoke in his language, showing his dedication to the people he was here to serve. Tsu’tey could only stare, his body frozen as his lips twitched. He was standing above the Toruk Makto, Toruk Makto was standing before him. “You are Olo’eyktan, you are a great warrior, I know I have hurt you and your people, your love, but I can’t do this without you.”

The sound of the giant screech behind him made Tsu’tey’s gaze switch from the rider to the animal. His ears perked up as he was still frozen, not knowing how to handle this.

“Toruk Makto…” He put a hand on Jake’s heart. Symbolizing their union. “I will fly with you.” Jake’s strong expression weakened just for a split second before he looked away from the leader back to his mate and Tsa’hik, only to look back at Tsu’tey.

“She is dying. Y/N is dying.” Tsu’tey felt his entire body shut down, his mind swirling into a pool of nothingness, he felt numb. Nothing was concerning him more than your safety. His light touch on Jake’s chest turned into him grabbing tightly onto the shoulder of Toruk Makto as he concentrated on not breaking down in front of his people. It was as if the air was kicked out of him he gasped for air, looking at Mo’at and Neytiri. They’re faces were dripping in concern at Tsu’tey’s expression.

He was pale, eyes watery, mouth parted as if he was trying to scream but nothing was coming out. He looked at your Na’vi body, that was laying safely in a carrier. But it no longer felt as if he was looking at your body but rather your corpse. “Bring her here. NOW!” Tsu’tey yelled out, mostly at Jake. He needed to know you were alright, he needed to see you, even if it was the last time.

Jake held your injured body in his arms, Tsu’tey was crouched over your avatar, gazing at its sleeping form as he laid it carefully, making sure your hair was out of your face. But as soon as your fragile body was in his line of sight he jumped up scampering over to Jake. He held his hands out, begging to take you from Jake.

This was the first time he had seen your true form. You were so fragile, so small, so weak. He carefully took a hold of you, emotions clambering up his throat as he tried so hard not to cry. He never wanted to see you like this, dying. He never wanted to hold your dying body in his arms, but yet here he was.

You looked so different yet the same. Your eyes had that same sparkle, your eyebrows furrowed in the same way. You were still the alien that he loved even in a different body.

“Baby demon? Please.” His voice was soft, lulling you to wake. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, he had never watched someone more intensely. You slowly brought your hand up to his face, it barely was the size of the space between his mouth and chin.

“Tsu’tey?” He nodded biting his lip to stop his sobs from coming out. “I’m so sorry.” Tsu’tey shook his head as he placed you down onto the mossy ground.

“I am sorry, I- I am sorry for everything I have said to you baby demon.” You shook your head, grabbing onto his fingers. Your eyes slowly started to close as Tsu’tey crouched beside you, watching as the white tendrils latched onto your body.

“The great mother may choose to save all that she is, in this body.” Mo’at explained to Jake as Grace and Norm listened carefully. Tsu’tey was not hearing her words nor listening to them. He only focused on you. He watched the way your small breathes started to not come as regularly, and the tendrils started to cover the entirety of you. He prayed to Eywa that you would not leave him, that you would come back to him so he could have this second chance with you. So he could cherish you the way you deserved.

“Is that possible?”

“She must pass through the eye of Eywa and return. But Jakesully, she is very weak.” Tsu’tey winced at her words, a sharp pain in his heart burning as he turned to look at Mo’at.

“She will pass, she is strong.” Tsu’tey rested his hands on your body softly, feeling the warmth of your body slowly slip out. He sat down placing his kuru in the ground to join the ritual. He was going to do everything to make sure that you stayed with him, he cannot lose anything else, anymore.

Mo’at chanted and the clan followed. The chants and her sounds filled the area as you felt your mind start to fade out, it felt like it was running from you and all you could do was chase after it.

The bright lights of the Tree of Souls lit up the ground as the chants grew louder. You felt yourself slipping from your consciousness, but it was welcomed. You felt safe as if you knew where you were headed and the journey there was set out for you.

Mo’at hushed the clan as she looked over to your still body, your eyes moved hastily under your shut eyelids. It was quiet, the suspense was driving Tsu’tey to insanity.

Then the brightness disappeared. Your eyes stopped moving and your small breaths became none. Tsu’tey shot up looking over at your two bodies with concern. “Has it worked?” His voice was quiet as if he was too scared to face an answer she did not want to here.

Mo’at looked over at him and stood over your avatar body. Her eyes widened. Your eyes were now moving rapidly under the blue eyelids, taking deep breathes as your mouth slowly parted. Mo’at gave Tsu’tey a knowing look as she looked down at your body slowly waking up.

“Y/N!” He jumped over to you holding your cold face in his hands. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at the tear-struck man above you.

“Tsu’tey?” Your voice was weak, as if you were using it for the first time. Your hands came up to his cheeks holding them.

“Yes. Yes. It’s me.” He put his hands on your head lifting you up slowly. “Are you alright?” His eyes were studying you for any sign of illness, but you just nodded.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” He smiled before helping you up onto your feet again. Mo’at smiled at the two as she stood in front of her clan.

“She has passed through the eye of Eywa! She is Omaticaya!” The sounds of the people erupted, cries and chants of celebration as Tsu’tey simply held onto you, he was so grateful that he got to have a second chance with you, that now he could finally court you. Because you weren’t a demon or an alien. You were Omaticaya, one of the people forever.

The other clans were coming in at a rapid pace. Every minute there was another ikran flying in or direhorse trotting to the Tree of Souls.

You couldn’t deny it, but it was odd. Living in your avatar, well it wasn’t an avatar any longer. This was you. You felt as if you were torn between two places but the other place, your human body, no longer existed for you.

You weren’t to ever wake up from a link again, instead you simply slept in your body and woke up in the same one. You never had to log anything ever again, and you never were to experience anything human. It was odd, it was as if the bullet did not take away your life but just your human one.

Though you and Tsu’tey had come closer, realising your affections towards the others. The calm before the storm gave you time to sit with the weight of his previous words. You knew he did not mean them, but they still hung on your heart.

You wished to talk to him about it, but he was busy. So incredulously busy being a leader. You knew he pushed you away because of duties once. So you refused to get in the way of his duties again.

Tsu’tey could sense something was wrong though. He could see it in the way you would longingly stare at him with a sorrowful look. Or you would go to talk to him, only to cower out when another Na’vi approached him. Though he was glad to finally see you be one of his people, to finally see you interact and talk with the people in the clan as if they were your friends. He knew that he needed time to have you alone, to finally set things out between you two.

So as nightfall came he made his way towards you. He saw you sitting with some of the Na’vi children as the braided tiny bits of your hair. It warmed his heart seeing you with children, thinking of maybe having his own.

“Y/N?” His voice made all of them look up, surprised to see their Olo’eyktan. You smiled up at him. “Would you like to walk with me.” You nodded, standing up thanking the girls for your braids.

“Yeah of course.” He smiled back at you, taking your hand in his. Something that still felt foreign to you, him welcoming your touch so easily. He lead you away from the large crowd on Na’vi back towards the river. Where he cleaned the medicine off your knee.

“I can sense something is wrong. I do not want to go to war again with a dispute between us. I cannot live with the guilt.” Tsu’tey poured his concerns out to you as you gave him a sad smile.

“Sit with me.” You sat on the ground, right next to the river-bed, tugging Tsu’tey’s hand to make him sit in front of you. He sat down with a thud as you pulled him a little too hard, to then stare at you. Waiting for some kind of answer to his queries.

With a loud sigh you started to express your worries. “I know that times have changed, and that there is no longer a promise to be made with Neytiri. But I can’t help but think that the times we spent together, and the words you said about them. I can’t help but think that the words you said are still true to your thoughts.” You let out a shaky sigh before continuing. “I don’t want to be a parasite, or a mistake to you. I don’t want you to be ashamed of loving me but I am afraid that you do.”

Tsu’tey was gutted. He never wanted his words to cut you so deep that they never healed. He knew his words were hurtful and if he could go back in time and stop himself he would. He scooted towards you so he could rest a hand on your cheek, stroking it softly.

“Every word I said was because I was a skxwang. I was frightened for my people, for my place in the clan. I had made promises…and I am so sorry for not being brave enough to break them. I was scared of loving you yawne, but…I see you.” He was looking at you with pure love, not a single fibre in his body was not overwhelmed with the love he felt for you that he was pouring out.

You brought your hands up to his face, tucking the long braid that had slipped from it’s tie out of his face. “I see you Tsu’tey.” It was as if a weight was lifted off of both of your chests as Tsu’tey pressed your foreheads together.

He pressed your bodies together, longing for contact that he had been depriving himself of for the longest time. He wanted to hold you with no impending doom. He wanted to hold you just because he can, not because you were dying.

His embrace was tight, as he rested his head in the crevice between your head and shoulder. You hugged him back tightly, turning your head to giving him a kiss on the top of his forehead. Tsu’tey looked up at you, a new sense of want in his eyes.

He sat up, resting on his heels as he delicately held your chin. You saw his gaze fall to your lips and back to your eyes then back to your lips. He so desperately wanted to kiss you, to finally taste your sweet love. All he needed was a look, so when he looked back up to your pretty eyes to see them fixated on his lips, he didn’t hold back any longer.

His face etched closer and closer to yours, teetering towards your parted mouth as you stared up at him with a love-struck expression. His face was so close you could feel his breath, you could smell his desperation. All he needed was to look back to you again, to see you also moving closer, to see you edging closer to his lips that he finally connected you both together.

It was as if you were dropped into a pool of sweet bliss. His hands moved down to the small of your back, holding you close as you slowly moved into his lap. Tsu’tey felt as if his heart had exploded and mended itself. He was hungry, moving his hands all over your body as he feverishly kissed you.

Your eyes were squeezed tight, hands gracefully placed on Tsu’tey’s cheeks as you returned the kiss with the same vigour that he kissed you. He broke from your lips, gasping as he stared at you with his pupils blown. He couldn’t believe you were so close to him, that you were both sharing this beautiful moment together, when only a couple days ago you laid in his arms dying.

“What is it?” You asked him, your voice slightly hoarse as you deeply gazed into his eyes. He looked at you, and he felt it in his stomach, so deep within himself.

“I cannot go another minute without you knowing that I want you by my side. I want to be your mate, I want to fulfill my duties and I want you to stand next to me. I cannot go on without knowing if you reciprocate my desires Y/N.”

You felt like you were going to cry. This is what you spent your days dreaming about, you longed every day to be by his side, you yearned for him to one day ask for your hand. It was surreal and all you could do was give him a teary eyed nod.

Tsu’tey turned slightly to pick up him kuru, gazing at you, waiting for you to follow. “We will be mated for life, I do not want you to regret your decisions.” He didn’t want you to say no, he would crumble if you did. But he needed you to know what he was asking of you.

But you knew exactly what he meant, and exactly what you wanted. “Tsu’tey, how could I ever regret being with you?” You spoke to him softly, grabbing your kuru. There was no way you could deny your anxiousness, but the thought of finally being with Tsu’tey, connecting with the one you so dearly covet for. That beat any sense of insecurity you had at that moment.

Tsu’tey held his kuru tightly, watching the tendrils open as yours did the same. He looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of second thoughts but he was left empty-handed. You inched your queue towards him until the tendrils spiralled together.

Your pupils were blown and so were Tsu’tey’s. The feeling was overwhelming, you could feel everything he was feeling. You could feel his emotions, his desires, his thoughts. Everything. You were one.

Tsu’tey felt it all too. Overwhelmed in the feeling he breathed in slowly, gazing at you. He could feel all of your wants and fears. Your desires and wishes. But the one that plagued both for your minds was the desire for touch. So you both fed into it. He readjusted you in his grasp kissing you softly as he ran his hands up your body.

You ran your hands up his flexing abdomen as you started to lay back. “I love you.” You whispered to him, as he started to rest above you.

“I love you more.” He spoke as he felt your warm body beneath him invite him into you, invite him into your heart, your mind, your soul, and your body.

Unfortunately, you can’t live in newly-mated bliss forever. And it didn’t last long, barely a week. Jake broke the news to Tsu’tey as soon as he heard.

0600, 6:00am tomorrow Quaritch was rolling out every gun, man, ship, and missile towards the Tree of Souls. This was war. The clan however was no longer frightened, there were over 2000 warriors ready to fight back for their land, their home and they were no longer afraid.

But you were. You were terrified. Not only could many people die, Tsu’tey could. He was Olo’eyktan, his was going to be in the front lines of this fight. You knew he was a great warrior but it didn’t settle your nerves, not at all.

So as Tsu’tey finally returned to where you both had made camp for yourself he could sense your fear. “what troubles you?” He asked a light hand on your shoulder as he turned you to face him.

“I am scared Tsu’tey.” You looked up at him, the radiant glow of the forest reflecting off of him to make him glimmer in the night.

“Mawey, there is nothing to be afraid of. We will win, and I will return to you.” Your lip quivered, the reality of him never coming back to you settling in as he made that promise.

“Promise?” He nodded taking both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

“Promise.” He kissed your hands once more, looking up to your teary eyed expression. “Please do not cry, I will cry too.” You giggled at him pulling him into a tight embrace. He squeezed you back tightly resting his head on top of yours.

It was currently 4:00am, and the warriors were all preparing. Sharpening their knives, stocking their arrows, painting their war stripes. It was all starting so fast.

You had Tsu’tey in front of you along with bowls of paint laid neatly beside you. You dipped your fingers in the thick liquid, flicking them to get the excess off before drawing on Tsu’tey’s stripes.

He sat there quietly, nose flaring as he exhaled whenever your fingers grazed his skin. You were making sure every stripe was perfect as you slowly drew the bigger ones down his arms and chest.

“You can go quicker, I must paint you as well.”

“Do not rush me, you will be the best painted warrior out there.” Tsu’tey mumbled under his breath as you arched your brow at him. He gave you a smile before taking the bowls from beside you and moving them closer to him.

He dipped his hand in the yellow paint, the same colour he had and drew a matching triangle on your face. He then did the same on your chin, using his thumb to draw a line, not forgetting to slightly graze your lips in the process.

He followed the triangles down your chest and up your arms. He was soft with you, only slightly grazing his fingers against your skin as if you could break any minute.

“There. You are ready.” The paint was sticky on your skin, but nothing you couldn’t get used to.

Time was ticking, and every moment you felt as if Tsu’tey was about to leave your grasp. His hands still lingered on your body as he pulled you closer to him. So that he could sit on the ground with you sitting in between his legs, fiddling with the beads on his necklace, as he braided small parts of your hair.

“I must go soon, Jake and I will lead the warriors. We must get there before the demons.” You nodded knowing your time with him was fleeting.

“I want to help, I want fight with you.” Tsu’tey tilted your chin up so you would look straight into his serious gaze.

“I need you here safe, we need you safe.” He put his hand carefully on your stomach, caressing the skin as he gave your lips a soft peck.

“What if you get hurt and I can’t help you?” Tsu’tey sighed at your concerns. Shit he had concerns too, but he refused to let up. He was to be brave, he will protect his people and his family.

“I won’t get hurt my love.” The sound of Jake ushering the warriors interrupted sweet moment the both of you were sharing. Both you and Tsu’tey’s ears perked up, your expression falling as you realized it was time. “I must go now. Be safe. Promise?”

You nodded, pressing your foreheads together, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. “Promise.”

It was full blown out war. Explosions erupted in the air and on the ground. You could hear the grunts of dying warriors from miles away. Tsu’tey made sure you were to stay with Mo’at at the tree of souls. He needed to know that you were safe, it gave him peace of mind.

The anxiety brewing in your stomach was growing out of control. Your heart was thumping, ears buzzing. Every moment all you could do was pray that he was safe.

Tsu’tey was soaring in the sky, adrenaline was pulsing through him like a strong current. The wind blew his braids in the air as he had his bow and arrow armed, ready to fire at any moment. The ships were strong, their foreign weapons stronger than any arrow.

But he had agility, he had skill. He would fight for his people so he could live peacefully with you. Maybe that is why he choose to abandon his ikran, jumping onto the open bottom of a demon ship. Slaughtering the sky-people as if they were flies.

He took his bow and arrow, shooting it through the body of one. Only to then use his large bow, as a weapon in itself as he whacked it on top of a pitiful sky-demon, that he flung out of air-craft with a shriek. He heard the click of a gun, ears perking up and fangs baring as he picked up the gun and the man with it, smashing it on the ground.

He couldn’t hear his own thoughts, over-ruled by the thirst for blood and revenge. His bow was like a hammer ploughing through the skulls of the humans in front of him. His eyes were wide, his eye brows furrowed as he continued to pluck each one off the ground, violently throwing them without a single bit of remorse cursing through his body. Another hard hit to a demons face, as they plummeted to the ground revealed a frightened sky-person.

He bared his gun, Tsu’tey felt his heart stop, his mind flicker with fear as he saw it. He used his bow once more hitting the gunman. But it wasn’t enough. Sharp debilitating pain filtrated through his lower body as he stumbled off of the ship.

He couldn’t even hold onto the vessel. He lost balance, his legs turning to jelly as his body slipped. The fall was long, the force of his body falling made the wind sound like it was assaulting him.

The pain was all down his leg, he couldn’t get himself to look as he tried desperately to find some foliage to plummet into. Breaking his fall.

No amount of leaves could make the thump onto the ground any less painful. It felt as if someone had taken a million punches to his entire body. The sticks left light scratches all across him, his face bleeding as a sharp stick had sliced his cheek.

He tried to move from his spot on the ground but he couldn’t. He sat up with an immense struggle. Looking down to see his leg bleeding profusely. It made him sick, as if his stomach would escape him. Three holes were sat in his thigh as he desperately tried to stay conscious. They weren’t fatal, he knew that but his mind was fleeting him as the pain overtook all of his senses.

Every time his leg twitched he would groan in immense pain. He was stuck, he couldn’t go anywhere. He needed help desperately. He needed to see you. Using one arm to prop himself up he pressed onto the mic on his neck.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” His voice was weak and desperate. It was fleeting every word was met with a hiss of pain.

The second you heard Tsu’tey’s pained voice in your ear you felt as if you were going to hurl. You brought your shaky hand up to your mic. “Yes- yes I can. Where are you?” You were close to hysterics, you needed to know he was safe, and you were certain he wasn’t.

“I am shot. I fell. Yawne- I- I cannot move please-” His words were cut short but you wasted no time. Mo’at looked over at you, her eyes telling you to run. You had no animal to ride, nothing to travel so you sprinted. Only holding a knife in your belt but you needed to find him.

“I’m coming, just hold on. Okay?” You slowed down so you could speak in your mic. Only to take off again. You didn’t know where your feet were taking you but you trusted your instincts. Those instincts that were buzzing from within you. They grew stronger every time the rough pads of your feet hit the ground.

You thought you may have been hearing things because of your stress. But the more you focused on the loud shouting of a Na’vi you realised it was your mate. It was your mate yelling in anguish.

You didn’t think your body could go faster but it could. It was as if your legs were going on their own. His yells turned in hisses and his hisses turned into cries. You weren’t sure what was happening but the image you saw in front of you was one that would never leave you mind again.

Wainfleet, a man you had recognised from your time in the RDA was in his mechanical suit. Holding Tsu’tey above the air from him queue. Dangling him as he cried. Tsu’tey was in unbearable pain, his leg covered in blood as he gripped tightly onto his queue for the slightest amount of relief from the searing pain on the back of his skull.

You were no warrior no fighter, but the aggression that surged through your veins was one you had never felt before. Maybe it was because you were angry at the sky-people, because your Na’vi body created a connection like no other to Tsu’tey, but the love you had for the struggling man in front of you blinded you with rage.

Your body took over itself, running straight towards the manic demon, that delighted in the pain of others. You jumped onto the back of the machine, making a great deal of noise in the progress. On your way up you grabbed a large piece of abandoned metal, large enough to be a Na’vi sized machete. Tsu’tey saw you and your manic looking expression as your body clambered on top of the suit.

Wainfleet dropped Tsu’tey, leaving him to hit the ground abruptly with a loud groan of pain once more. “Y/N! Stop!” Tsu’tey called out for you, but you couldn’t hear him through your clouded mind.

You took the metal from your hands and continued to stab it into the glass shield of the metal junk, shattering it as shards fell into the soldiers faces, toxic gas hissing into his chamber. Once he realised there was another Na’vi on top of him his robotic hands reached up to only smash you back onto the ground with a loud crack. Tsu’tey tried to run back to you but he was stuck, useless as he watched you writhe in pain as Wainfleet came closer to your body.

You hissed as you readjusted, stumbling as you got up. Spots of white in your vision but it didn’t stop you. This man was going to die. And your hands would carry that blood. Wainfleet chuckled as you hissed at him.

He didn’t waste his time, trying to shoot your stumbling body only to realise it was out of bullets. He groaned in annoyance taking a large knife out of the leg of the suit, swinging it with no real direction, as the shattered glass clouded his vision.

Tsu’tey called out for you, begging you to run. But you didn’t all you did was jump away from the blade, your eyes blown with rage as you had jumped onto the top of the suit once again. You took the metal out of the glass, twisting it as the whole shield shattered, crumbling to pieces letting his human body reveal itself to the harsh air of Pandora.

The crazed sky-demon discarded his robotic arm for just a moment to put on his face mask, to let the air back into his system. But you were having none of it. Your arms moved before your brain could even comprehend what you were doing. But the large piece of metal that you had taken out of the glass was now in your hands. It was deadly in your blind-struck rage.

Screaming you plummeted it through his chest, only to rip it out of his body to stab it right back in. Blood was spattering everywhere as you continued to stab into the human, screaming manically as your chest heaved, spitting out the blood that had been caught in your mouth. The force of your assault had almost severed the man in half as the machine collapsed below you. The blood splattered all over you, drenching you in the evidence of your murder.

The machine clanked as it hit the ground. You jumped back onto the ground shaking looking at the mess you created. It was horrific. He barely looked human, his blood drowned him in the suits chamber as you stumbled away.

Tsu’tey was frozen in shock. He had never seen this side of you. A side that was so blood thirsty and vengeful. He saw the way you stared down at your blood soaked hands as you shook. “Yawne” He croaked out trying to get your attention.

You immediately turned to your groaning mate who still couldn’t move. “Tsu’tey!” You scrambled to the ground where he had sat himself up against a rock, still clenching onto his leg as the pain surged through him. “You’re okay, we’ll get you back home soon okay?” Tsu’tey nodded with his eyes clenched shut.

You crouched down to look at his ruptured leg. The blood was no longer pooling out as the wounds were raw and sore. Putting your hands back onto the mic you called for help that you desperately needed.

“Jake, do you read me?”

“What is it?” His voice was gruff, worn out from the fighting.

“I- I need help, Tsu’tey is injured we needed to get him back to Mo’at. I can’t move him.”

“We’re on our way.” You let out a sigh of relief as you looked at Tsu’tey. His pained expression hurt you, but you took his hand in yours.

“You hear that baby? We’re getting you help. You’ll be alright.” Tsu’tey clenched onto your hands as his leg twitched again.

“Are you hurt yawne?” His voice was rough as his eyes studied your bloodied body for any wounds. You shook your head, even though it was a lie. The smash onto the ground you took was causing a resounding amount of pain in your body, but you could handle it.

“I am fine, focus on you. Please.” He nodded as you caressed his knuckles, waiting for help to come. You both sat in silence, the only sounds between the two was a grunt of pain from Tsu’tey followed by your soothing hushes. It lasted awhile until the large gusts of wind, signature to the arrival of Toruk Makto resounded in your ears. “Their here baby.”

Jake and Neytiri rushed over shocked at the state both of you were in. Jake walked closer, shocked to see the gory image of Wainfleet’s body discarded from the mated pair. Seeing his former colleagues drenched in blood he could only assume wasn’t hers was a sight that he never thought he’d see. But he never though he’d see you cradling an injured Tsu’tey either.

Neytiri was immediately tending to Tsu’tey, helping to readjust him so he could be placed onto Toruk. “Ma Jake, help us.” She sneered as he rushed over as they all picked up the warriors body. Tsu’tey cursed loudly clenching onto your hands as the three of you shuffled towards the screeching beast.

With a collective grunt Tsu’tey was placed onto the back of Toruk. He used both of his hands to keep him up, his leg hanging unable to be moved. Jake hopped onto the ikran twisting the reigns around his forearms. “You both should be on the back, hold him up so he does not fall.” You and Neytiri nodded hopping on the back of Toruk’s neck. You held him from the back, your core tight as the large animals started to flap its wings. Neytiri sat herself on the back. Looking towards the both of you, watching closely to make sure neither of your injured bodies fell.

After the flight Tsu’tey was immediately taken to the healers. They worked tirelessly for days to recover him from his injuries.

You were by his side the entire time, holding onto him as he squeezed you in pain as they dug for the bullets in his flesh. Soothing him as the medicines stung and the stitches stabbed. The process was close to unbearable. But you calmed him, he wasn’t sure what he would ever do without you.

Days passed and days turned into weeks as Tsu’tey recovered. He itched to be back to leading, he wanted to stand before his people, but his muscles were weak. Mo’at told him that his recovery would be long. But he was impatient.

His days were filled with bedrest and little limps. He wanted to stride again, to be a hunter. This was no way to be a leader.

Eventually, his limps turned into stumbles and his stumbles turned into steps. Steps that made him feel like a man again, like a leader. He was just upset it took him three agonizingly long months to do so.

But those months were crucial for him. Crucial for him to step up, to help be a better mate, better leader and to become an amazing father….

A couple months later

You were swollen, from head to toe your body ached. You writhed in the soft leaves, hating the thought of waking up to do your tasks. Tsu’tey was cradled next to you, his large hand protectively placed over your large belly.

Tsu’tey had his head nestled in your shoulder. “Good morning my mate.” His voice was still adjusting to the day as his voice vibrated in your ears making them prick up in excitement.

“Morning.” You were tired, the baby had been kicking all night, you barely got any rest only to be woken up by Eywa’s light.

“What is wrong?” He shuffled up, placing his head on his hand as he looked over at you. Growing concerned when you didn’t immediately reply. “Yawne? What is it?”

“This child has not stopped moving.” Tsu’tey couldn’t help but let a smile out as you mentioned his growing family.

“She is excited to meet you, that is all.” Tsu’tey rubbed your belly, giving your temple a soft kiss.

“Sure. Also you must stop talking as if you know it will be a daughter. You should not get your hopes up for one outcome.” You fiddled with his fingers that were on your belly.

He sat up now so he could use his other hand to guide your chin so you would face him. “I am certain this is a girl, I am also certain we will have enough sons. Trust me.”

“Tsu’tey! You’re disgusting!” You gave him a playful shove sitting up to face him. He let out a hearty laugh, his features glimmering in the morning light. You watched as his playful gaze turned into one more sincere, “What are you thinking?”

His heart was full of love. He was so happy that you came to him. That you were kind enough to love him and forgive him. He felt truly blessed. To think the one he called baby-demon was now his mate and was giving him a baby of his own. He felt proud. He was proud of himself for letting himself love you, he was proud of his people for accepting his love and he was so zealously proud of you, the way you protected him, loved him, and cherish him. He would never be able to live a day without you by his side again.

“I love you.” He whispered out, letting his hand cradle your cheek. You smiled into his hand.

“I love you more.”

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reblogs and replies super duper appreciated, id love to hear what u thought (i tried rlly hard LMAO) thankyou so much for reading

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