#maybe have a cup of tea with it. it's been a while since i had tea.

[daengtokki]

part eight // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 13k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: self harm, hallucinations, monsters(?), medication mention, pregnancy, fluff...and a new OC

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

COMMENTS: Hi guys, I'm kinda back. I hope you all enjoy part eight! We still have a long way to go. Please reblog and help support me and my work! I love and appreciate you all very much ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST ]

TAGLIST: @kkamismom12 / @r0tt1n / @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be. It doesn’t look quite like how it sounded when it hit the floor, but each side of the music box separated from itself on impact, and now it’s a sad shell of its former self. You can fix it, though—you have to fix it.

You lower yourself for a closer look, making sure to avoid the sparkling glass covering so much of the floor. The glimmer of something else catches your eye, so you move carefully, pinch the silver chain between your fingers, and pull it from its tiny pool of water. “Can I wear this until it’s in one piece again?”

An odd request, maybe, but Seungmin doesn’t bat an eye at it. “You wanna wear St. Michael? Are you feeling guilty again, or…” he pulls his shirt over his head, sweat soaked from his workout—disposing of the body. “Feeling the snares of the devil?”

“Should I be feeling him?” That wasn’t a yes, but you clasp it around your neck anyway.

He smiles at you and shrugs.

“You’re no devil”

“No? You’re just blinded by me. Biased.”

“True. What did you do to me?”

His face falls in confusion. “Nothing. I mean…I always wondered if—“

“Minnie, I’m joking.” But he still has that worried look in his eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve seen it. “What have you always wondered?”

Now he seems reluctant to finish. Seungmin grabs his clean towel and shorts and looks toward the door, but he turns to you again. “…if I did do something to you that night. It’s silly.”

“When I passed out?”

“When you died,” he corrects you. “You were dead, no pulse. One minute and…forty seconds.”

“You never told me that”

“I never told you how long you were gone?”

“And that I had no pulse”

He takes a few steps toward you. “No, I guess I didn’t. I thought you knew.”

Seungmin touches the medallion on your chest, examines it, avoids looking directly at you. He’s thinking, you assume, about whatever it is he believes happened when you died for one minute and forty seconds. His hands are warm on your skin, and you’re already craving his touch again, but his mind seems to be somewhere else entirely.

“I was wearing it that night. Usually, I take it off when I go to bed, but I fell asleep reading.”

“What night?” You take his hand in yours, but he slips away and starts toward the door. “Seungmin, what night?” The air starts to feel thick with tension. Seungmin’s mind still turns so quickly sometimes, but not this quickly.

“Can we talk after I shower?”

/ / /

The living room fills with the scent of almond blossom tea and Seungmin’s steamy, citrusy shower. He spent a long time in there—washing away his kill, thinking of a way to tell you his story, wondering if it’s time. It has to be. Seungmin knows you’ve earned every truth he has to give. It’s the least he can do. He stares absently at the floor with his mug cupped in both hands. “The night my mom and stepdad died.”

Your mind goes every which way, wondering what direction his story is going to go in. “They both died the same night?”

“Yes. I should have told you this when you opened up to me months ago.”

“No, not if you weren’t ready”

It feels so complicated in his head, but telling you everything takes no more than ten minutes, even through the tears that eventually start falling. And in that ten minutes, you end up on the couch, Seungmin curled up in your arms for comfort. Still, he left out a few details, like her voice starting right there in the greenhouse; his trip into the woods hoping to be taken by the thing that lived there—still lives there.

He melts into you even more. “That’s worse than I could have ever imagined, my poor sweet Minnie.”

The ground in Uljin is sour, except for where his mother rests, and everything about your visit there starts to make sense. The shed is the rotting corpse of his stepfather, and its arms still reach far enough to hurt Seungmin. The garden he and his mother created; the greenhouse, and every single everlasting flower that it holds seems to keep him here, reaching a little further and giving you who you have in your arms.

“I’m so glad you made it through.”

“Did I? Sometimes it feels like I died back there…” he stops and sniffles, wipes his cheeks, “in the woods.”

“You didn’t. You’re here with me, like you’re supposed to be.”

Seungmin is exhausted, physically and mentally. His eyes close, and his body relaxes as he puts his arms around you again.

“The woods where he left you. The same ones from your dream last night?”

He mumbles a yes.

“The ones we drove through…I didn’t like those woods”

“There’s nothing to like about them”

“They felt haunted”

“That’s one way of describing it. They were like that long before I put him the ground, and now it’s worse. The dirt he’s decaying in hates me just as much as he did.”

“He’s still there? Is she?”

A long blank stare, followed by a slow nod. “Yes.” Seungmin looks at you, still so full of secrets, but he’s running out of energy to keep going.

“What did the rest of your family think happened?”

“That he killed her, and disappeared”

Now it’s your turn to close your eyes and relax in his embrace. Just learning about his past is tiring, and overwhelming. How could a nine year old come out of that? Seungmin did, but it damaged him so severely he can no longer live a normal life.

“I was sick before any of that happened, though,” he starts again. “Umma knew I was seeing and hearings, but she didn’t know what to do, except give me this…” He touches the necklace again, presses his lips to your chest, “and pray, read to me, surround me with flowers. But I was so much worse after he left me in the woods. And he didn't believe I needed a doctor."

For the first time in a long time, you’re lost for words. There’s not much you can say right now to bring him the comfort he needs, but your touch might help. You kiss his forehead, and rub his back until he lifts his head to look at you. He just stares, searching your face for something; waiting for more, maybe. Does he still think the things he tells you will scare you off?

“It’s genetic, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think so”

“So…the chances of one of them being sick—”

You knead your fingers into his neck and squeeze before he finishes. If only you could make this one worry go away. “They’ll be okay. We’ll worry about that when…if…the time comes.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“You’ve been seeing things, too. Has that ever happened before?”

“No”

/ / /

Why are you seeing things? The thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, because everything from the last several months has been some level of strange. The dreams felt like dreams, even after you discovered they were echoes of Seungmin’s nightmares, and even how easy and beautiful it felt to fall for him didn’t seem unusual. The truth is, that’s never happened to you...nobody has ever been as close to you as he is. The connection is preternatural. If there were ever time to use that word, this is it. “No, I’ve never even seen a ghost. Seeing that dog under the bed is the first time something like that has happened.”

“So, maybe it was really there”

You shake your head. “If so, it had to have slipped into a tear in the fabric of space…a wormhole. Or it’s just magic.”

“Like Bulgae”

“Bulgae?”

“Mm, they’re just mythical creatures, a fairytale I guess. The fire dogs that chase…oh,” he rubs his chin with his knuckles, and his eyes wonder around the room. They land on the window, where the quarter moon stares in. “They chase the sun and the moon. Do you think there’s a tear in space under my bed?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, Minnie”

“Are you up for a long drive tomorrow?”

Seungmin doesn’t like going home—you assume, and he doesn’t pretend it’s easy. He does it as if it’s a necessary pilgrimage to a partially sacred place. He has to fight through the oppressive evil to get to the little bit of warmth still existing there, and he’s succeeded every time so far. But this is only your second time accompanying him.

“You can sleep if you’re comfortable,” his fingers run down your arm and wrap around your wrist. “I can see how tired you are.”

Yesterday was exhausting, and your dreams kept you up most of the night. The dog returned, just the white one, but it didn’t try to hurt you. It didn’t even look at you. You watched it from the balcony as it struggled to reach what you assume was some representation of the moon; a glowing blue sphere in the middle of the city, far too low to be any celestial body. Upon waking up, you decided it had been the weirdest dream you’ve had in a long list of weird dreams.

“Okay.” You don’t fight him, or the overwhelming urge to close your burning eyes. “I’ll try.”

When you wake, the car is parked, and you’re alone. Seungmin kept the engine running, the music low, and the doors locked, and when he returns several minutes later, you’re already sound asleep again. He gets in as quietly and gently as possible with the bag full of snacks he’s hoping you’ll like, but for now, he’s happy to see you sleeping so soundly. And that’s what he does for a little while longer��he watches you, listens to you breathing, and wonders if you’re in the middle of a dream. He hopes not. Or if you are, it’s a good one. Neither of you seem to have much luck with that.

You groan and shift, and Seungmin can’t help but reach out for you. He swipes his fingertips across your forehead, tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Where are we?”

“Almost there”

“Did you get me something?” Seungmin digs around in the bag and holds it out for you. “Oh a triangle, thank you!”

“Mhm, if you eat two you can have your cookies”

“Did you get yourself something besides coffee?”

“I’m not very hungry”

When he eats, he eats well, but sometimes he goes far too long without. “You didn’t eat before we left.” You don’t push it, though. The trip might be the reason for his lack of appetite, so the sooner you start heading home, the better. “Do you wanna bite? Just a little one.” Seungmin watches you unwrap it, and when you hold it up to his lips, he opens up and takes a much bigger bite than you expect. “Good boy."

He stops chewing, and a slow smile starts to appear. “Hm?”

“Oh…uhm”

He covers his mouth as he finishes chewing and swallowing, but as soon as it’s down, he laughs softly behind his hand. “Say it again.” Seungmin leans forward and takes another bite.

“Good…” you kiss the top of his head, and he laughs despite his mouthful of tuna and rice, “good boy.”

“Thank you,” he washes it down with his coffee and points to the remaining piece, “your turn, both of them.“

“Can I have a sip of your coffee?”

Seungmin smiles again, pretends to think…he never actually says no to you. “Yeah, one little sip.”

The road you’re on isn’t one you recognize, but the trees and hills are very much what you remember from your December trip. It’s so much different now—it’s brighter, and more colorful. The blue sky makes everything look bigger, and much less claustrophobic, and you hope seeing it like this is a little easier on him. Flowers are blooming all over the sides of the roads, and at the edge of the woods you pass; in gardens and open fields. His backyard will at least be dry and warm this time around. The forest is no different. It’s oppressive and dark. Eerily quiet, except for a few bugs chirping in the darkest corners. You roll down the window and smell the air, and you decide it might be the only nice thing about it.

“What was that?” You turn the volume down on the radio and listen again.

“I didn’t hear anything”

You wonder if he did, and he’s just pretending he didn’t. “That…” An unmistakable rumble, like the echo of a car engine in the distance, but not quite. It cuts out abruptly, and that’s the last time you hear it. When you look at him again, his face is blank, and maybe a little bit pale, so you drop it.

When you finally, truly arrive, you’re not sure if the car will actually make it up the slight incline to park next to the house. It’s not dry at all. The surrounding area is still covered in a wet muddy mess, almost as bad as it was in December…but somehow, Seungmin makes it.

“You okay?”

“Huh…oh yeah, I’m good. Just not wearing the right shoes for this.”

“Most of the area stays pretty nasty until the snowmelt dries, and then it gets muddy again as soon as the rainy season starts.”

His door pops open, “stay there.” He rounds the car and opens yours, “okay,” and kneels down.

“Minnie, I can get a little muddy”

“I know, but you don’t have to. C’mon.”

All you can picture in your head is him slipping, falling, and you going down with him, but then you remember how easily he managed this ground last time. Seungmin isn’t clumsy on his feet, only in his head, and only sometimes. He reaches back for you and wiggles his fingers. “Okay, okay. Brace yourself.”

“For what?” He grunts when you put all of your weight on his back, but he still stands without a problem. “You should be heavier than this by now, right?”

“I’ve gained eight pounds since I moved in with you”

“Do you gain less with girls, and more with boys?”

“I’m not sure, remind me to google it”

“That seems like a silly question when I say it out loud”

“It’s not. Is that what we’re having?”

“Hm?”

Maybe it was a slip-up, or maybe he’s dying to finally tell you. “Girls? Is that what we’re having?”

“I thought you didn’t wanna know”

Part of you does, especially now that you’ve started working on the nursery—just another step toward it becoming your new reality. “Do you think the tech was right about it?”

“She seemed confident, and she’s been looking at ultrasound babies for a long time.” Seungmin kneels again, and you put your feet down on the concrete walkway outside the greenhouse.

“Have you been thinking about names?”

His little smile answers for you, even though he shakes his head. “Not much…not really.”

Warm air and the heady scent of a dozen different flowers hits you when the door swings open. Your eyes water from it, but you blink it away as he grabs your hand and pulls you in with him.

“Tell me one you like”

“A name I like…hm, there is one, but it might be too…me”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing”

“Ha-neul”

“Haneul…it sounds nice when you say it. What does it mean?”

“Sky”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I like it, too.”

He stares at the flowers, and his grip on your fingers tightens. “I can’t think of another name to compliment it, though. So I’m not sure.”

“Maybe it’s too early for this part”

Seungmin pulls you with him toward the purple flowers, and when you’re close enough to be filled with their scent and only their scent, he lowers himself and kneels in the much dryer soil. When you don’t immediately follow, he squeezes and tugs a little harder. It still feels like an intrusion into his most personal moments, but he wants you here, so you lower yourself next to him and hold tight to his arm.

Being here now is different—she’s there, right below you, beneath the purple bushes whose roots certainly reach as deeply as she’s buried. Seungmin’s mother exists in the flowers in a way you never thought possible, and that’s why he keeps them close. This is you finally meeting her, you think.

“Umma?”

He waits, and you’re perfectly still and quiet as the moments pass. And then a few more moments. It’s getting late, so you begin to hear the growing sound of insects crying in their hiding spots, but nothing else. Eventually, too much time and silence passes, so you squeeze his hand and look at him. “Seungmin?” You can see the stain of a tear on his cheek. He’s biting down hard on his lip to keep some composure, but it isn’t working very well. “What is it?”

“She’s not answering”

“Try again…say something else”

He nods and takes a deep breath. “Umma, nae mal deullyeoyo? Please say something.” The sound of his shaking voice hurts. You know there’s still no reply, even before he releases you and spreads his palms out over the ground—what you don’t know is if this is the first time she’s been silent, and it’s not a good time to ask. If it is, you can only assume it’s because of his Haldol. Seungmin hasn’t missed a dose in over a month. It’s taken hold, and the sound of his mother’s voice is no longer there. This might not be the best side effect. “Where did you go?” He leans forward until his forehead touches the cold ground, and your hand slides beneath his shirt at the same time. It’s warm, and it’s soft, and as much as he wants to scream, your touch helps keep him calm. A slow, deep breath, and his lungs fill with the scent of earth and heliotrope. She’s still here, he thinks. “I know you’re still here.”

Your hand slides across his back until he rises again, but he’s dizzy, and a sour, nauseous feeling starts to rise in his stomach and throat. He turns and crawls away just in time. Seungmin vomits, coughs, vomits again…or tries to. Nothing comes up, but his body keeps telling him to try.

“She is, Min. Just like last time, and the time before that.”

He isn’t sure what you’re saying, but he hears your voice despite the muffled ringing in his ears. It helps. Seungmin isn’t sure he could handle the silence alone. “I’m sorry.” A fistful of dirt comes with him as he stands, and he tosses it aimlessly towards the mess. “You heard it in the woods, right? That sound.”

“The rumble?”

“Yeah…the rumble”

“What was it?”

“Something umma told me was just in my head”

If it’s in yours, too, that still doesn’t mean it’s real. Seungmin is giving you more than just his dreams.

“Maybe she’ll talk to you”

“Me? No. Why would she talk to me?”

Seungmin shrugs, but he has his reasons. “Just hoping, I guess.” He wonders if your strange connection exists in this way, even if he can no longer hear her. You’re seeing things, and you’re dreaming like him…so maybe he hasn’t completely lost his connection to his mother.

You turn away and carefully lower yourself to the ground, but you’re not prepared for this—you have enough trouble talking to tangible people in front of you. Nothing happens right away. Just the sound of the bugs, and the wind picking up and pushing against the glass panels. The sun is finally setting behind the trees, and the orange glow coming in looks like fire. “Susie, are you there? Your son wants to speak to you.” All you can hear is the sound of Seungmin sniffling and pacing behind you. “I would like to talk to you, too” The wind pushes harder against the greenhouse, and the lonely wind chime catches it and starts to sing. It slows down, and you look away for a moment to watch the tops of the trees stop swaying in the distance. “Is that you?”

“Did she…?” Seungmin asks, but a moment later, another gust hits, and a glass panel cracks from the pressure. “Oh no.” He heads for it to inspect the damage, leaving you alone with the flowers as you try with everything you have to hear something. “It might be okay,” he says, mostly to himself as his finger runs over the superficial crack. The greenhouse has survived the elements for a very long time, and one little crack is not going to bring it down.

“She loves you very much”

His arm slides around your waist, and his hand spreads out across your stomach. There’s nothing there to see yet, even with twins—but you’re much softer where his fingers knead and squeeze. “You heard her?”

Did you? You don’t remember hearing anything except the wind—no voice in your ear, or in your head, just the overwhelming desire to tell him. “I’m not sure, but…she does, Minnie. She loves you, all of you, the good and the bad.”

“I was excited to tell her about the twins”

It hadn’t occurred to you that part of this trip was to tell her the big news…that he’s going to be a father. During the first trip here, he was quietly joyous about simply not being alone, and that also just occurred to you—he was still brand new to you. His happiness is still so lost in him sometimes, buried under too much grief and damage. “Tell her...” You grab and pull him so he’s kneeling next to you, but you’re not sure if he’ll actually try to speak again. If he thinks it, that’ll be good enough.

Umma? I’m sorry I can’t hear you.

He waits again, just in case there’s an answer this time.

I’m going to be a father. Well, I guess I already am, but…they might be born in September, just like me. We’re having—oh, I can’t say it out loud. It’s still a secret.

“No, you can tell us. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Seungmin whispers, and he smiles when you nod at him. You weren’t sure you’d get another one out of him for a while.

We’re having boys…identical boys, umma. I’ll be the father dad didn’t get the chance to be. I’ll make you both proud.

The hanok, for as long as it’s been sitting here uninhabited (“fifteen years,” Seungmin tells you, “it was like everyone but me just forgot it existed.”), is still in surprisingly good shape. The outside is somewhat neglected, but it’s solid, and the inside…you weren’t expecting to see the inside, but Seungmin had the key in his never-ending collection of keys...the inside is nice, but dusty and a little damp, and it almost looks like someone still lives here. There are clean dishes sitting on the counter, like they were almost put away in the cupboard above them. The faded curtain is pulled open just enough to see down the pathway that leads to the greenhouse, and…two pairs of shoes sit neatly by the door you walked through. A pair of sneakers, and next to them, a pair of rain boots.

“Seungmin, are those…were those yours?”

He looks to the spot you’re staring at, and nods. “Yes, they were mine.”

“Can I see your bedroom?”

The afternoon sun is pouring in through his window, and even with the curtains closed, it filters in and casts a warm glow over everything. His yo, rolled up and covered; a desk still holding a stack of books; the bookshelf, and a chest you can only imagine is full of whatever this little boy liked to play with. Now you’re hit with another realization, even though you knew…he really was just a baby when this nightmare happened to him. Seungmin sat at this desk and practiced his spelling and multiplying, and in the same breath, he had to kill his stepfather to save his own life.

“I saw this in one of my dreams”

“What did you see?”

“In the park, when I first told you I was dreaming about you…one of them was this, I think. Your window, the bedroom.” Seungmin passes by and pulls at the curtains, and the light is almost too bright as your eyes adjust. “We were laying in your bed, and the sun was bright just like this, but it must have been summer. There were flowers outside, yellow and purple flowers. That was a nice dream. You kissed me before I woke up.”

“I did?” He leans in quickly and places a kiss on your lips, “like that?” He tries again when you shake your head, this time right between your eyes. “There?”

“Nope, try again”

“Hm, how about…” a soft one against your temple, but he huffs when you shake your head again. “Where does dream you want a kiss?” His eyes scan every part of you as he thinks, and eventually, he grins and goes for your neck.

“Up a little…perfect.” In your head, you’re doing your best to remember every detail of that dream, but you can’t. It’s long gone. “What was that? Thunder?”

The sun is still shining, but on closer inspection he can see the dark clouds in the distance, slowly moving above the trees. “I think so.” Seungmin forgot how oppressive the view is from here…the darkness of the forest in front of him, even in the daylight, makes him uncomfortable. “I’ll check the heat, and the water. We can spend the night if…” the rain starts almost immediately. “If that’s okay.”

“Here? I don’t mind, but only if you’re comfortable staying.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Actually, since I met you, up until now has been the longest I’ve gone without visiting, or cleaning up. It’s hard, and as many bad memories as this place holds…it’s still all I have of her.”

“Then yeah, let’s make ourselves comfortable here and get a good nights sleep.”

Once the heat is on and moving through the floors, the house comes back to life in a whole new way—it’s warm, and it’s cozy. This, plus the few good memories…it’s easy to see why he hasn’t completely abandoned the house. Seungmin begins to hum as he walks around lighting candles, and once he’s satisfied with his placement, he turns the lights low and joins you on the doubled up mattress in the middle of the floor. “Did you have enough to eat?”

“Mhm”

“Do you need more water?”

“No, I’m good. I’m comfortable.”

He touches your neck and pulls you close for a kiss. “Warm enough?”

More of the dream comes rushing back to you. “Perfect. I’m with you, I couldn’t be better.”

“Yeah…so you still like me?”

The face you make sends him into a fit of quiet laughter, and it might be the biggest smile you’ve seen him crack since he saw the twins two weeks ago. Seungmin’s never given you a good full-body laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, and an unusual one, because it’s so new to you. You can help but laugh with him. “Yeah, I think I still like you.”

“Good. If I think too much about us only knowing each other for four months, I start to wonder—“

“Don’t wonder”

“Don’t?”

“Trust me when I say I’ve found the one. So…boys?”

He smiles just as wide again, and the sparkle in his eyes tells you everything he wants to say. “Boys.” He nods and whispers. “I hope it makes it more real for you, and you’ll be happy with so many boys running around.”

“It does, and I am. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

It’s too warm eventually, and when you start to kick off the fluffy blanket, you know something is missing. Your leg slides across the mattress, and your blurry eyes pop open to his empty pillow. “Minnie?” You sit up and realize just how warm the house is—you rub a hand across your chest and wipe away the sweat starting to gather there. Maybe he got up to turn the heat down, or crack a window. “Seungmin?” You know you’ll have to get up at some point, so you just get it over with now. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. Why is your heart starting to race? Nothing is happening, nothing is wrong, so stop panicking. Your feet hit the floor, and the panic gets a little bit worse. Nausea works its way through you.

The bathroom is empty, and his bedroom is, too. The only other bedroom, his mother’s, is also empty, but you weren’t expecting him to be in there. There’s nowhere else except outside, and it’s still raining. The car is there, you can see it from the kitchen window, and when you finally head for the door, you can see it hasn’t been pulled shut far enough to lock. He is outside. You open the door and look out into the dark fog. Why would he come out at this hour?

“Seungmin! Dammit, you better answer me!”

Just the patter of rain on the roof and the windows. Nothing else. You almost go for your shoes, but putting them on seems pointless. All you’ll do is ruin them, and walking around in wet, muddy shoes as you search for him sounds much less appealing than doing it in your bare feet. The first step onto the grass is unpleasant, but after a few more, it’s fine, and you walk as quickly as you can toward the greenhouse.

hey

“Minnie…Min, was that you?”

You heard it, even through the rain, but he’s not in there. Seungmin is definitely not in there, and you don’t want to get any closer than absolutely necessary. The shed looks even worse than it did last time, and just opening the door feels like it could be disastrous. A few loose nails and pieces of rotting wood in the right spots; the whole thing comes crashing down around you. But maybe that would bring Seungmin out from wherever he’s hiding. “You in there, Min?” You whisper and close the gap, reach for the chain, and pull. “Why would you be?” It creaks so painfully loud, and the inside is dark and empty, just like you expected. “Greenhouse…greenhouse.” The door slams shut as you try not to break out into a run, and every hair on your body stands up.

The greenhouse is a welcome reprieve. It’s warm inside, but just like the shed, it appears to be empty. “Fuck…Seungmin! Where are you?” You’re wet, and starting to shiver, and the mud has covered you up to your ankles already. “You’re gonna be mad at me for coming out here…but, but…”

Sweetie

You spin around, looking for whoever is clearly speaking to you. “Who’s there? Seungmin why are you doing this?”

my little boy isn’t here

“Susie?”

he doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“Where is he? Where did he go?”

the forest

“He went into the woods?” The nausea worsens when you think about him lying in a clearing somewhere, lost in the dark. “Why would he do that?”

There’s no more voice. Susie goes quiet. “Okay, I have to find him.”

How, you have no idea, but before you even attempt to walk further than the greenhouse, you run back to the house and throw open every closet. Most of them are still full of their things, so finding a raincoat is easy, and finding his mother’s rain boots is a relief after the mess you made all the way up to your knees. You clean up before slipping into them, and they fit well enough. The raincoat is a little small, but not enough to keep you from wearing it. The only light you can find is an oil lamp under the kitchen sink, not a single flashlight in any drawer…and your phone certainly won’t do any good. But it works—the oil is good, and there’s plenty of wick soaking in it, so it lights easily. “This might be my only luck tonight." The rain slows a little, and half of the sky clears up enough to see the moon and stars. It’s enough to orient yourself before they disappear again behind the trees, and a quick look at the compass on your phone is the last thing you do before silence falls around you. The trees hold up the rain, and the dense fog seems to take in everything else.

“Minnie!” Your voice falls flat—no echo. A twist of the knob raises the wick just a little, and the light intensifies.

For a while, you count your steps. Walking in a straight line is impossible, but you follow what looks like a trail the best you can, because you don’t want to think about getting lost in here without him. At one hundred steps, you stop and call for him again.

Fifty more, you call again. Everything is still eerily quiet, and if anything was walking around near you (“fuck, don’t think about that…don’t”), you’d know it. Twigs would snap, and the muddy forest floor would give almost anything away.

Fifty more steps. You set the lamp down and cup your hands around your mouth, and this time an echo moves through the trees. The rumble answers back. “No…not you.” What the hell was that? “Seungmin…please.” You force yourself further in; twenty…thirty…forty steps, and then you stop and rest on a stump. These woods are so much like the ones you walked through when you were a kid—thick, and dark, and quiet. But Mothman never got you, and whatever is living in this forest won’t get you, either. You hope. A sudden fear moves through you, though, and calling for Seungmin again seems like an invitation for something else.

I’ll just look for a while…no calling

Whatever lives here would be much deeper anyway…right? I’ve barely walked a quarter of a mile in

but I’ve been screaming for the last fifteen minutes, and if Seungmin’s in here…why IS he in here? Is he looking for something? Is he sleepwalking? No, he’s never done that before

What if this place is more than haunted, and you’re slowly slipping into some other place? What if there’s no going back after this? You’re pushed back in time again, to the dirty living room carpet and your bare feet sinking in. Dad is right behind you in his armchair, sound asleep, so you managed to swipe the tv remote from him.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas…

“There’s a signpost up a head…” you whisper to yourself in a strange attempt to self-soothe. "Your next stop—" You had a nightmare after watching that episode, and you remember it well. “God, maybe I've been dead this whole time.” The warmth of the medallion on your neck is suddenly very apparent, and you rub St. Michael between your fingers.

who are you?

“No, I’m not hearing anything else. Shut the fuck up.”

we don’t recognize you

“Seungmin!” You’re up and walking as fast as you can on the uneven ground, but the mud and heavy lamp are weighing you down. And then you see him. Or you see something. It moves across the trees in the shadow of your light. If it is him, he would have heard you and answered. “Hello?” Your voice shakes.

hello?

“Who’s there?”

He appears from behind a tree, and stares at you, silent.

“Seungmin…oh my god.” He doesn’t move when you run to him, and when you drop the lamp and throw your arms around him, he’s warm and still. “Minnie, baby, are you okay?” No answer, but his arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. “What are you doing out here? I was so scared.”

“Don’t be scared”

“Can we please go back?”

“Back?”

It takes some effort to free yourself, but you pull away and look at him. The lamplight is casting a strange shadow on his face, and now you’re back in your nightmare at the Jasmine Hotel. “Am I dreaming. Are we having a nightmare?”

“No, I’m awake”

“Can we go back?”

He takes your hand when you hold it out for him, and then he leads the way.

Seungmin is covered in mud. He’s drenched, and pale from the cold rain, but he doesn’t seem to be shivering the way that you are. His hand is warm, like he just woke up from a good sleep, and when he turns his head to look at you, he smiles.

“Why did you—“

“You must be cold, Tokki. I’ll run you a warm bath when we get back, and make you some tea.”

The walk back is quick, and he finds his way out easily. The rain passed while you searched for him, and now the sky is clear, so the light of the moon guides you the rest of the way.

Seungmin is quiet in the kitchen, but you can hear him filling the kettle and lighting the stove, the clink of mugs, and his soft voice as he starts to sing. You wash up quickly, drain the muddy bath water and start to refill it as his voice gets closer and closer.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing in there,” he says it with a lighthearted sternness.

“I feel better. It’s your turn.”

He doesn’t fight you. Seungmin hands you your tea and starts to pull off his damp clothes. You want to question him again, but you’re not sure when to do it—after he gets comfortable in the tub, or when you get him back into bed? He might fall right to sleep once his head hits the pillow.

“What kind of tea?”

His shirt is tossed and hits the floor with a wet thud, followed by his sweatpants, and then his boxers. “Raspberry leaf, with a little bit of sugar. I know it can be a ittle bitter."

So he's in there; he remembered the tea he brought, and he remembered that you coudn't stomach it without some sugar. “Did you do that to yourself?” Two long scratches along his collarbone stick out against his pale skin. Another three run across his shoulder blades.

“You don’t have to stay with me. Get back into bed and get warm.” He lowers himself into the hot water, and lets himself sink in up to his chin.

“No…we need to talk, Seungmin”

“What do we need to talk about?”

He looks at you, and there’s nothing about him that seems defiant. The memory of what just happened might already be fading away. “Min, do you remember waking up and leaving the house? I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was scared.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sweetie. It was his mother that told you where he went. “What were you doing?”

He shakes his head, “I’m not sure.”

“You’ve done it before.”

“I have? How do you know?”

Pushing him for answers won’t help, because now you’re remembering the whispers in the greenhouse. He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy. His mother spoke to you very clearly. Seungmin wanders into the woods every time he spends the night here, and he doesn’t remember doing it. He enters a dissociative fugue, and it’s continuing even with the medication. “Have you been taking your Haldol?”

“I have, I promise”

You know he has, because you’re usually with him when he does. And because her voice are gone. “I don’t know why I asked that, I know you are.”

“You shouldn’t have been out there in the rain. You could’ve gotten hurt, or lost. It’s my job to take care of you, and I failed.” Tears start to well in his eyes, and you don’t think you can stand to see him cry right now.

“But I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re gonna get back into bed and sleep all morning, and then we’re going home.”

“Home?”

“Home”

/ / /

Another heavy storm passes through, and it keeps you up for a little while longer, but when you wake around noon, Seungmin is fast asleep next to you. Whatever he did when he disappeared into the woods exhausted him, because he never sleeps in this late. Maybe it’s this place, though, and not just his strange wandering. You need to know what happened in there, and what was going on in his head, but you don’t expect him to remember much.

“Mmm…morning,” he mumbles when you pull the blanket over his bare shoulder. The heat turned itself off while you slept, but you’re too cold to get up and fix it. Seungmin shivers a little, and you know it’s because he was too tired to find something to wear after his bath. “Cold.”

“I know, it’s cold in here…c’mere. "He moves closer and lets you wrap yourself around him. “How are you feeling?”

Seungmin groans and sighs.

“You can sleep more if you need to, or I’ll make some coffee”

“No, I’m up”

“Okay…do you remember last night, Min?”

Seungmin nods, but you have your doubts. Before the two of you even got into bed the first time, you talked. As a matter of fact, you and Seungmin talked more than usual. Not hearing his mother’s voice bothered him more than he lead you to believe at the time, and you think he may have been considering stopping his medication. He didn’t say that, but you could feel it.

“I remember, yeah. We had dinner, and we talked…we talked about names more.”

That part of the baby name conversation actually slipped your mind, but you remember now.

“Ha-neul,” he says again, because it’s still on his list. “And…”

“And something with Hwa or Hae, yeah?”

“Hae? Ha-neul and Hae…sung?”

The unexpected third part of the conversation might be the last one concerning names, at least for a while, because the way he’s looking at you is a very loud please, say yes to these. It almost makes you want to drop the questioning and return to it later.

“We’ll put those in the yes column”

But you can’t.

“Good. We can still think about it, but they do sound nice together.”

Seungmin seems happy; genuinely happy, despite how strange yesterday really was, and you hate having to ruin it. “You woke up last night…early this morning, I guess. Very early.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I woke up around two and you weren’t in bed. You weren’t anywhere in the house, or the greenhouse. Seungmin, I couldn’t find you…anywhere.”

He looks at you like you’re joking, but his face falls when he realizes you’re being very serious. “I don’t understand.” He sits up and looks down at himself, seems to realize he’s naked under the blankets, and wraps them tight around himself. “Was I sleepwalking?”

“I’m not sure, but I guess it’s possible”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before”

He doesn’t know what he does when he comes here, and he’s doing it again…my poor sweet puppy

“How often did you spend the night here? Before me.”

“Maybe… maybe once every month or two. Where was I?”

There is no memory of anything behind his eyes. They soften as they search yours for the answer you’re trying to give to him, and you can see the puppy coming out. “In the woods. I found you about a quarter of a mile in, soaking wet, covered in mud.”

“No, why would I do that? I don’t like going in there when it’s daytime, and last night was…”

"I know"

“Why would I do that?” He says it again, more to himself this time. “Why?” Seungmin rocks a little and takes a deep breath. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

Without another word, you rise from the bed and head for the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

You understand his hesitancy in believing you, or believing it wasn’t just another strange dream. The whole thing being a nightmare isn’t far fetched at all, for either of you, but his muddy clothes are still on the bathroom floor. You hear him following closely behind.

“You took a bath, and we talked a little.” You show him in the clothes, and he examines them silently. “You didn’t remember anything last night, either. But you seemed fine…you made me tea, and…take that off, look at your neck.”

He pulls it down and examines himself in the mirror. “Did I do that in my sleep?”

“And your back”

The blanket drops to the floor. His scratches aren’t as red and angry as they were a few hours ago, but they broke open and bled a little in his sleep. “Looks like claw marks”

“Claw marks, from what?” From whatever made him go there in the first place. “I think you backed into a tree, Minnie…that’s all you were wearing out there.” You nod to his pile of clothes, and then occurs to you to check his t-shirt. The back of it is dirty, but that’s all—no rips, no blood. “Maybe.”

/ / /

The rain clouds are returning again, and the overcast sky is making your bad mood so much worse. You weren’t expecting the trip to go well, but this was beyond anything you could have imagined. Now you can’t help but stare off into the woods as Seungmin starts the ritual of collecting his heliotrope.

“Are you still here?” You whisper. Part of you is wondering if some of last night was a dream, or a hallucination, because the voices you heard are beginning to come back to you. All of them. “Please say something to him.” When you turn, he’s holding his arms tight against his chest, head down, as if he’s protecting himself from something. “What’s the matter, Min?”

“Nothing”

At any moment, he could break—that’s what he looks like standing there…like the last leaf preparing to fall off the tree, or a glass of water halfway off the edge of a table. One little gust of wind could topple him. So why are you hesitating to go to him? “Do you need help with anything?” You take a few slow steps toward him, but he turns away ever so slightly.

“N-no, no. I’m fine.” He bends and picks up the shears at his feet. “I’m okay.”

You catch his gaze for just a moment. His face is pale and tired, and you wish he would have slept longer. You almost want to stay another night, just not here, so he doesn’t have to drive. “Seungmin, talk to—“ You grab his elbow and make him look at you. “…me.”

“I’m sorry”

All you see is red, and you can smell it on him. “What did you do? Let me see.” The blood is coming from somewhere on his arm, but you can’t tell where. All you know is that it’s all over him, soaking the front of his shirt, starting to drip from his elbow.

“I cut too deep”

That explains his lifeless face. Everything around you is covered in dirt, so you reach into his back pocket. The embroidered handkerchief is there, like it always is. “Why’d you hurt yourself, love?” He’s had enough trauma for one trip.

“I didn’t mean to…make such a mess...ah," he winces when you push it down against the cut.

The thought of him running those shears along his skin makes you tense up. Whether he meant to cut or not, something in him wanted to put the blade on his arm in the first place. “It’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of it.” You hold as tightly as you can. "But we need to get back to the house.”

It’s start to rain again, of course, and some of the blood washes away with it, but it hasn’t stopped by the time you get to the kitchen and examine it again. Blood pools in the cleanly cut skin and slowly drips down his forearm. Seungmin watches intently, and very calmly. “I think it slowed down,” he whispers.

“Not enough. You need stitched up.”

“I’m sorry I did that in front of you.”

“In this case, I’m glad you did it in front of me so I can’t at least take care of it. Is there a first aid kit somewhere in the house?”

“Uhm, yes, I think it’s still in that top drawer,” he nods toward the kitchen sink. “But it’s old.”

Better than nothing. You wrap him back up with a clean towel, rifle through a drawer you remember from last night, and you find it all the way in the back. It’s full of the most basic things, but it’ll do for now. You clean it…Seungmin holds in a cry and stomps his feet for that, and tears run freely down his cheeks after the burning finally stops. Two rolls of gauze later, and you wonder how long the blood will take to soak through completely. “I should take you to an emergency room before we go home.”

“I don’t want to do that”

“So we’ll go after we get home. It’s one or the other, Seungmin, because you need stitches.”

“Fine, we’ll get it over with here”

Seungmin’s mood starts to match yours, but his injury pulled you up a little—concern quickly replaced the confusion and anger, but now he’s confused and angry. You know it was intentional, but you decide to believe he didn’t mean to cut as deeply as he did, and by the time you get to a hospital, the gauze is already turning pink.

“Thank you for driving”

“Thank you for navigating”

“You did very well. I remember being here once, when I was…five or six.” He looks around the waiting room, and everything is so old, you assume it looked the same twenty years ago. “I broke a finger.” Seungmin holds up the ring finger on his right hand.

“Yeah, it looks a little crooked. Never noticed that before.”

“Kim...Kim Seungmin?”

A tall man holding a clipboard stands in the open doorway, and he looks directly at him in the crowded room. “You can follow me…both of you, if you’d like.”

Seungmin stands, hand still gripping yours. “Oh, he said you can come.”

The hallway leading to the partitioned rooms is just as aged. The colors are drab and depressing, and the smell of disinfectant almost chokes you.

“Have a seat, and I’ll take a look at this”

“Are you the doctor?” Seungmin asks, and he looks around nervously, but the man shakes his head. “Do you speak English?”

“No, I’m a nurse. And yes, I can speak English…why? Oh…” he looks at you and smiles awkwardly. And he switches easily from Korean to English. “I’m sorry, you don’t speak Korean?”

You shake your head and try not to feel like a burden.

Seungmin stretches his arm out as the nurse pulls his gloves on and slowly unwraps the bandage. “I just like her to know what’s going on.”

“Of course. Does this hurt?” He sees Seungmin wince as he gets closer to the wound. “I guess so. May I ask what happened?”

“Gardening accident. Very sharp tools.”

One last loop, and the bloody bandage is finally off of him. “Working in the greenhouse?” The cut still oozes blood, but much slower than before.

“Huh?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Seungmin looks at you, as if you have the answer for him, and then back to the nurse. “I thought you looked liked him, but it seemed impossible. You came back, Heecheol?”

The nurse nods, and his smile grows because his friend recognizes him. “You haven’t changed at all, Seungmin. Same face, same sad puppy eyes.”

You have to smile at that. Seungmin was a puppy to the people around him—at least the ones he cared about, and who cared for him in return. Before speaking again, Heecheol examines the cut with gentle hands, and then excuses himself for a moment to get a suture kit.

“You’re stitching it?”

“Yes. Unless you prefer a doctor, but they usually ask me to do them anyway.”

“When did you move back to Uljin?”

He re-gloves and opens the package before cleaning from Seungmin’s elbow to the middle of his forearm. “About a year ago. Living in the states was fine, but I think I needed a change.”

“Where did you live?” You chime in, and he gives you the same warm smile.

“Greensboro, and then Charlotte for a while”

“I can hear some accent in your English”

“I can hear yours, too…I’m guessing you weren’t far from there”

You nod and smile.

“Do you two live here in Uljin? Are you married? Oh, uhm, I’m just assuming you’re a couple. Sorry.” He focuses again, grabs the syringe full of lidocaine, and holds tight to Seungmin’s forearm. “This will pinch for a moment, but…after that it’ll feel much better.”

Seungmin nods and watches the needle slide in and out at each corner of his cut. The pinch doesn’t seem to bother him. “It’s fine. Not married, and we were just visiting. We live in Seoul.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Min. Is…Heecheol,” you have trouble with this pronunciation, but he doesn’t seem to mind, “is he the friend you told me about? The color one?”

“Yes, this is him”

“The color one?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Seungmin says, and he actually smiles. He’s smiling at him the way he does for you when he’s feeling good. “Is yours still green?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything. Good and bad.”

“Right, I’m so sorry about your mother, Seungmin. I didn’t even know you lost her until my mom told me last year. She moved back here after my dad died, and now I’m taking care of her. She doesn’t have much time left…”

“She's sick?”

Heecheol nods solemnly as he checks the feeling of Seungmin’s arm. “Yes, end stage heart failure.”

“I’m sorry, Cheoli”

“I’ve had time to prepare and come to terms with it, which a lot of people don’t get. I am grateful for that.”

“Do you think she would still remember me?”

“My mom loved you, and she hated pulling us apart. She would, and she would love seeing you again—I’m sorry, I’ll be right back. I need different sutures.”

Seungmin turns to you when he disappears behind the curtain, and he looks like he’s ready to burst. His eyes are wide and watery, and his cheeks are starting to turn pink.

“What are the odds we’d run into him?” You run your thumb over the scar beneath his eye and wait for a tear to fall, but nothing comes. "Even in a small town?"

“It’s strange. Today has been very strange.”

After a few moments of silence, he returns, and he looks at both of you as if he’s figuring out how the two of you found each other. And how the two of you found him. “All ready, sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’re in no rush”

His mood has changed significantly, and now he has a very big reason to stick around a little longer. This place is not good for him, but you think his friend might be enough to outweigh the bad. The three of you are silent as he very carefully closes the wound, and he’s good at it. Heecheol is focused on his task, but every few seconds, his eyes move up to look at Seungmin—they look him over as if he could disappear at any moment and he doesn’t want to forget a single detail. Just as he’s finishing up, he does it again, and this time, Seungmin looks as well.

“I know you’re numb, but does it feel okay? Any pulling?”

“No, it’s good. It’s perfect.”

“I’m going to put a second skin bandage on it, over some gauze, and you won’t even have to think about it. Just go easy for a few days…no sliders…no fastballs.”

“I haven’t thrown a baseball in ten years”

It feels like you’re intruding. You don’t need to be here listening to them remember the past, even though you want to know more about the good parts of his childhood.

“How long will you be in town?”

“Well, we planned on heading home after I got stitched up”

There’s some hesitancy in his voice, and you know Seungmin is changing his mind about going home so quickly. You have no intention of pulling them apart again because the string between them is already reconnecting. It's obvious that the same force that ties you to him ties the two of them together as well.

“Maybe I’ll catch you next time,” he says, and as much as he tries to sound like he’s fine with it, he doesn’t.

“We can stay a little longer…if that’s okay with you”

Seungmin looks at you with his big wet eyes, as if you would ever say no to him. “Of course we can."

“Shift change is in…” Heecheol looks at his watch, “an hour. If you don’t mind waiting for me.”

/ / /

The weather finally changes. The rain stops, and the sun comes out, so Seungmin paces just outside the entrance to the hospital as you wait for him to speak. There’s a smile twitching on his lips, and you assume he’s thinking about his friend, and their past.

“How old were you when he moved?”

He stops and takes a seat next to you on the bench, and you’re relieved when he grabs your hand and squeezes. This was the first time since being with him that something truly got his attention more than you, and you have to admit that you’re a little jealous.

“I was eight…it was the summer before everything happened. We never even had the chance to say goodbye to each other.”

“I’m glad you found him again”

The doors slide open, and Heecheol walks out, freshly showered and out of his scrubs. He’s handsome; a sharp, fox-like face, and a sweet smile. The bounce in his step might not have been there a few hours ago, but it's there now, and it adds to his natural charm.

“Thank you for being so patient with me”

He makes sure to look at both of you as he speaks, but his eyes return to Seungmin and stay there. Had this one stopped and talked to you on the street, he would have caught you, too.

“Of course. Should we pay your mother a visit? Is she expecting us?”

“I called her and let her know. You’ve already made her day.”

Seungmin is nervous, and his legs are heavy as he walks up to the second floor. Memories are flooding back to him—racing up the four flights of stairs, and always losing because Heecheol’s longer legs carried him further. He has the stamina, but was never very fast. Luckily his arm was made for pitching. Was. Now, for the first time since he was fourteen, he’s wondering if he can still do it.

“She doesn’t get out much since the building has no elevator…just on good days.”

Good days that are few and far between, Seungmin guesses. Her heart won’t pump her blood the way it should anymore, and she’s slowly suffocating because of it.

“But we have a nice view of the water, and spring is coming early”

The front door clicks and creaks as he pushes it open, and the inside looks almost the same as he remembers it. After fifteen years and a move across the world, Seungmin expected some change, but he’s relieved that there’s so little.

“Umma, we’re here,” he calls out softly, and then looks to Seungmin. “Do you want some tea, or coffee?”

“No, I’m okay”

He heads for the kitchen anyway, and whatever he’s doing seems like routine. Electric kettle filled and on, mug from the cupboard, loose leaf tea scooped into a silk bag.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so tall”

Her weak voice floats to him, and more memories unlock. “Eomoni!” It feels like no time has passed—he feels like a kid again, and he feels safe. Everything was good when he was here with Cheoli and his parents. There was no stepfather around, watching every movement, and judging every word.

“Seungmin-ah, you’ve grown into such a handsome young man.” She takes a few more steps toward the kitchen, but decides to take a seat on the couch instead. Seungmin can hear her labored breathing.

“Umma, where is your oxygen?”

“It’s giving me a headache”

Heecheol disappears into the bedroom, and he returns with a small pack slung over his shoulder, and a nasal cannula in hand. “You should have told me this was almost empty.”

“I have plenty, now you…come over here so I can see you better.” Everything about her, from her voice, to her face, to her informal mannerisms, is the same. She’s older than Seungmin’s mother would be now, but not by much. It’s the illness that’s aged her. “Yes, come sit with me.” His hand is squeezed between hers, and they’re cold against his warm skin. “Cheoli missed you so much, did he tell you that?”

“Umma…”

“What?” She turns, and Heecheol adjusts the cannula to her nose. “He tried finding you when he moved back last year, but he had no luck. And here you are!”

“I wasn’t sure if you had moved or not, but when I found out about…what happened, I figured you moved away.” Heecheol says.

“I live in Seoul, eomeonim. I’ve been there for five years”

“In Seoul? All by yourself?”

“With his girlfriend, umma”

“A girlfriend?” She says it as if it’s a shock, and her hands squeeze even tighter.

“Umma! Please…”

“Hush. How long have you two been together?”

Saying it is going to sound silly, especially considering the seriousness of everything between you. “Four months.”

“Four months?” Heecheol stops what he’s doing to look at Seungmin.

“Yes. It feels like we’ve known each other much longer, though.”

He nods, “that’s good…I’m glad you found someone, Min.

“Do you…?” He shakes his head before Seungmin finishes asking the question. His friend is handsome, but Heecheol has always been very particular about things, and even more introverted than him. He probably hasn’t changed much. “It’s a strange feeling to have someone when you’ve been alone for so long.”

“Yeah, I’m sure”

“What do you do in Seoul?” His mother interrupts, changes the subject. “For work?”

“I own the apartment building my father…my real father, left to me. So I guess…not much.”

“But you do well for yourself”

“I do, I’m very lucky in that sense”

Heecheol heads back to the kitchen to finish the tea he started, and Seungmin sits quietly, his hand still squeezed between hers.

“Soo-ji would be proud to see what a kind young man you’ve grown into”

“I’m not sure about that. I haven’t done—“

“You had to grow up without her. You made it through difficult times and you’re here, and you’re making someone else very happy, I assume. She would be very proud.”

Seungmin thinks about you sitting outside in the car, probably sound asleep, and he smiles. You weren’t very happy with his actions today, but he knows you are happy.

“You’re making us happy right now, Seungmin—Cheoli and I…Seungmin?”

“Yes, are you okay?”

Her voice falls to a whisper. “He needs you. As much as he tries to smile, and work hard, and care for his dying mother…he’s struggling. He’s alone, and I can only do so much for him. There has to be a bigger reason for you walking into that hospital and finding him there.”

No part of Seungmin wants to abandon his friend, but he has a hard time envisioning himself as someone else’s divine providence. Even with you.

“He wasn’t even supposed to be at work today. Cheoli was just covering for another nurse.”

“Here, umma…be careful, it’s hot.” Heecheol places it on the table in front of her, and then his eyes turn to Seungmin. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure”

“Oh, I guess we should get going. We’re going for dinner, and I’ll bring you something good back, okay?”

“Yes, good…don’t rush. You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

Heecheol is quiet on the way back to the car, but Seungmin can’t help but see the loneliness in his face now, and in his posture. “How have you been? He stops. They both do, and they face one another at the bottom of the staircase. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I can’t really complain.”

“You can if you want, you can complain to me”

“No complaints right now,” he smiles.

/ / /

Seungmin is surprisingly calm in the busy restaurant, but it’s obvious that Heecheol is distracted by something in his own head.

“I didn’t expect so many tourists this early,” Seungmin says, and he starts to scratch at the bandage on his arm.

You take his hand in yours and pull it closer to you. “Don’t scratch at it, you’ll make it sore.”

“I’d rather it be sore then itchy”

Heecheol doesn’t chime in. He’s staring at your clasped hands, eyes wide and glazed over until you loosen your grip and let go. Maybe he’s not a fan of PDA, which you don’t blame him for. You’re not a fan, either. “Are you and Seungmin the same age?”

“I’m actually a year older, so we didn’t get to have classes together”

A tiny smile tugs at Seungmin’s lips. “That’s why we spent almost all of our free time with each other.”

“So how did you meet?”

“Little league, we got put on the same team”

“Seungmin smiles even bigger now. “The Bears, I think I still have the team photo somewhere at home…” He turns to you, “probably in one of those boxes.”

“I’ll find it”

“Please find it. I lost so many little things moving around. So how did you two meet?”

You decide to let Seungmin take this question, and you hope he can simplify it and somehow make it sound normal.

“Uhm, she walked by me outside of the convenience store by my building, and pretended to be lost…so I helped her home.”

“That’s very cute”

“There was a little bit of chasing, but we figured it out eventually. You said you’re single, right?”

“I am, yeah…I never really dated much. I’ve tried, but it’s hard.”

“You can visit us in Seoul. Maybe you’d feel more comfortable there, being yourself. It’s easier.”

“Easier? How do you know?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time getting a feel for people all over the city. And I’ve taken plenty of them home.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side, and Heecheol’s eyes move between the two of you. “Men, and women…yes. And you would probably do better than I ever have.”

This is the most carefree and comfortable you’ve ever seen Seungmin in someone else’s company. It took what felt like a very long time for him to soften up for you, but this was almost immediate. The moment he realized who he was taking to in that hospital, he started to become lighter; a completely different person—one that didn’t wander into the woods in the dark, or feel the unbearable need to slice his arm open from the turmoil rolling around inside of him.

“Is it that obvious? I guess it is." Heecheol laughs.

“What, that you prefer men? I've known that since I was eight, and we went to that birthday party at the ice rink. Do you remember?”

“Oh my god…uhm, Junsoo, our catcher who couldn’t catch very well. He was turning nine.”

“Right, his older brother was there, and you stared at him the whole time”

“Mhm. Jinhwan. He was twelve, and he was already the best hitter for the senior league. And the best forward on the hockey team. And—”

Seungmin‘s hand jumps up to cover his mouth, and he laughs with his whole body. A sweet laugh, though, the kind that Heecheol can laugh along with and not feel embarrassed. “Yeah, I knew…I knew you like I knew myself.”

“And you were always a mystery to everyone else, but I understood why. We made a good pair.”

“You still do. I don’t hear him laugh like that very often.”

Heecheol turns to you and smiles. “I’m sorry, I hope you don’t feel left out of the conversation.”

“Not at all. I like listening to the two of you talk, and it’s nice to hear him laugh.”

“Still a little mysterious, Mo?”

He rubs at his bandage again. “Not on purpose.”

/ / /

As hard as you try, staying awake on the drive home is nearly impossible, but you shake yourself awake every time you feel yourself slipping. Seungmin has to make this drive, and you know he’s even more exhausted. Finding his friend did perk him up, though, and the music playing on the radio is more upbeat and louder than you’re used to.

“Don’t stay up for me, relax”

“I’m alright. We have a while to go still, so promise me you’ll pull over if you get sleepy.”

“I promise”

He gives you a sweet, sleepy smile, and you’re almost positive you’ll end up in a hotel somewhere tonight. “I like him.”

“Do you? Seeing him again…it felt like no time passed at all, and like nothing bad ever happened.”

“Finding each other again is something special. He loves you, Minnie.”

“We were kind of isolated to each other, aside from the team…but even then, it was just us all the time.”

He didn’t see the way Heecheol looked at him, and maybe it was just disbelief...maybe he couldn’t believe his own eyes—his best friend, back, right in front of him. But you don’t really believe that. Heecheol loves Seungmin the way that you love him; in a way you can’t really describe in words. You can feel it.

His mind goes back to eomeonim and her concern for her son; his loneliness, and believing there’s a reason why they found each other again. But love is a strong word for someone who was there for three years, and then left for the next fifteen. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he looks at you, nodding off again, and remembers your four months together. Things couldn’t get much more serious than they are now. But he needs you…he loves you? Seungmin isn’t sure he has much more to give after you and two children.

“How are you feeling?”

“My arm feels fine, it’s just a little sore”

“Not that…everything else”

“You mean last night?”

“Yes, last night”

Seungmin thinks. He doesn’t know how to answer this, because he still doesn’t remember a single thing between going to bed around midnight, and then waking up at noon. The scratches on his back are itchy now that he’s thinking of them, but otherwise, there’s nothing. Just what you witnessed. “I don’t remember any of it, so…it’s like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m glad you don’t remember, but I wish I knew why you did it”

“Did you see anything else while you were looking for me?”

See? No. Heard? His mother’s voice, whatever is in the woods, and maybe even his stepfather’s voice outside the shed. That hadn’t occurred to you until right this moment. The hey that you thought was Seungmin, it definitely wasn’t. “I didn’t see anything.”

He looks at you, waiting for more.

“I heard things, but…I was tired, and scared”

“I’m sorry. I’m grateful you cared enough to look for me, but I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“Of course I cared enough, I’d do it again if I had to”

“That’s the last time we spend the night there”

The alarm keeps ringing. Why is there an alarm on in the first place? You somehow form that thought and that question in your sleepy, foggy head. The room is still so dark, though, so it can’t be morning yet. Where is he?

“Where are you?” You’re not even sure it comes out of your mouth. “Seungmin!”

“Hey…I’m right here. I’m sorry.”

The bed moves as he crawls up and grabs his phone, turns off the sound, and the room is finally silent. You turn onto your back and pull yourself up against the pillows, but your head throbs. Opening your eyes feels like it might be a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to shut off the alarm from last week. Do you need anything? Does your head feel any better?”

“A little…I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. I think I was dreaming.”

“It’s okay”

“My head is better than it was.” His half smile is what you see when you open your eyes, and then his dark hair sweeping across his eyebrows. “Your hair is getting so long.” You reach out and brush some of it away from his forehead, and then your eyes fall to your stomach.

"What time is it?” You set your hand on it and breathe deep, and Seungmin sets his hand on top of yours. Then you switch.

“It’s almost ten, you slept for a while. Oh, I felt something!”

“Did you?”

“Yes, a little kick I think”

“Good, I’m sure they know you’re here”

His smile grows until you see all of his teeth “yeah?” The other hand finds a new spot and waits, but he pouts a little when nothing happens. You don’t feel any kicks or flutters, and he doesn’t either. “It’ll be nice to see them again.”

“What day is it, Min?”

“Wow, you must have slept very well, that’s good. It’s Monday.”

“Monday?”

“Monday the 19th.” He waits as you think. “Your fancy ultrasound is tomorrow. We get to see them in more detail, right?”

“How did I forget?”

Seungmin moves his hand again and waits, and when nothing happens, he’s back up and digging through his dresser for a change of clothes. “They’re wearing you out, but…that’s why I’m here.”

Thanks to him and his attentiveness, getting to week twenty-two was easier than you thought it would be, despite your exhaustion. You’re not sure if this nurturing side of him was always there waiting to come out, or if he’s just been working overtime to be the dad he desperately needed as a child. Whatever it is, he’s doing well.

Seungmin has been okay for the last two months—no hallucinations, no urges, and no truly bad days. He still gets quiet and sulks, but not lately. A new tenant moved in a week ago, and it’s kept him busy until today. The distraction has been good for him, and watching him focus on work was a nice change.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Hm?” His phone is lighting up a smile on his face. It falls a little, but comes back along with a blush on his cheeks as he gets himself under the blankets. “Just talking.”

“Talking?”

“Heecheol sent a message earlier, and I forgot to reply until now”

“Good, I wasn’t sure if you were keeping in touch. How is he?”

“Tired, he said, but he has to work all night so he can’t get any sleep. I was thinking of asking him if he wanted to visit, but only if you feel okay.”

“He can visit whenever he likes, and you two can do whatever you want. Baseball game…night club? Maybe both. You deserve a nice night out.”

“I’ll ask him. Do you think he’d want to stay for a while?”

The idea is nice. “A while…like a weekend? Or a week?” But the more time spent with Seungmin, the more likely it is that Heecheol will see the other side of him, or be around for one of his bad days. “If he wants to. Maybe we can start with a day or two, so we don’t scare him off.”

Seungmin studies you for a moment, and then nods. “Yeah, I guess so."

"I think he would love to spend as much time as possible with you, though"

"I’ve been alright since the whole disappearing into the woods thing, right?”

“You have. You’ve been present, and happy.”

“I’m trying really hard”

There’s a choke in his voice as he says it, and you go back over everything you just said to him in your mind. “You are, I know…and you’re the reason why I’m doing so well right now.” He moves closer until your arms open for him. “You’ve been there for me every single day and night.”

“Have I? Have I been good enough?”

Seungmin still has a hard time believing it, you know that, even as you hold onto him and squeeze him tight.

[narcjsistx]

𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐒 | OS

suo hayato x fem reader ; words: 0.6k (680)

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: domestic shit because I love this stuff. suo hayato (aka your boyfriend) gives you some answers!!

"Aren't you really ever afraid when you fight?" you ask out of nowhere, looking up from your book. Suo looks up too, surprised by your sudden question "Why do you ask me that, darling?"

Locked in your house, you were spending a normal afternoon, one like others you had already spent together. You immersed in some book or doing your homework, your boyfriend reading some newspaper or drinking a hot tea. With your legs warm under the small japanese table with blankets, the afternoon was passing peacefully

"In the book I'm reading the protagonist asks this to the boy who will probably be her boyfriend at the end of the book. He often fights in the ring and gets hurt, and she wonders if he's ever afraid before a match" you explain, putting the book on the table, resting your head in the palm of your hand "And since it's more or less the same thing with you, I wanted to ask you"

He puts the cup on the table, thinking about it for a bit, as if the question really confused him; you know that in reality he is just acting out, because your boyfriend loves to be dramatic. After a while he smiles at you, touching his chin with his finger "More than afraid I just have adrenaline, even if for me the situation is a little different than the character in the book ..." he says laughing slightly at the last sentence "But no, I'm not afraid. I haven't been since I knew I had someone waiting for me. This leads me to avoid the fear and just think that I have to hurt myself as little as possible because I don't want to worry this person"

You are surprised by his words, while a sparkle appears in your eyes "It's the same answer that the character gives in the book!" you say amazed, but only after a while you realize what he said. He looks at you carefree, as if he was waiting for you to realize his words, and on the one hand he also enjoys seeing you a little confused, you who are his pretty girlfriend. He knows how to talk, it's one of the skills you envy him the most, and now reasoning he just explained that when he fights he only thinks of you, that you are the person who cares the most about him in the world even knowing that he is a genius in fighting

As you get to the pointyour cheeks turn a light shade of pink, as you pick up the book and place it in front of your face to hide your blush. You hear the red haired boy chuckle as he gently moves the book from your hands "You okay?" he asks as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on your poor little heart that's sensitive to his compliments

“I’m perfectly fine” you say, looking down, not even reading the book anymore. His hand comes to your chin, moving up to your cheek where he pauses, stroking it a little “I see. How’s the book going?” he asks because he rightly is not aware of it, but oh, you definitely know

"Oh, he just leaves the protagonist's room to get ready for the match..." you say lying, because in the book the character stays in the room for other things, things that embarrass you. Suo seems to notice your lying, and like the true provocateur he is, he takes advantage of the situation "Are you sure? Why are you embarrassed, darling?"

"I told you I'm fine-" you say closing the book, and hiding your head in your arms, resting on the table. He chuckles, rubbing your back “If you say so. I just wanted to see how compatible our story was with the characters' story"

Suo was still in your room, he hadn't left nor the character who remained. If the situation still has the same resemblance maybe you should start worrying, or maybe not. In the end it was your loving boyfriend, your Suo Hayato

[danieyells]

Existing has too many steps and parts. If i need to go to the store i need to be kind of clean. Minimum clean is baby wipes(ideally with hot water) and change of clothes. Change of clothes means underwear, binder, pants, shirt. And then i have to leave and actually get there and get things and pay and come back.

And if i haven't eaten or drank anything(which I first need to get from the store at some point!!!) it's twice as hard to do these things(and if i need to go to the store to get the things to eat or drink then guess what! I don't have them!!)

I could have them delivered but that costs money. And then it costs even more money to give them a tip because delivering groceries for me doesn't pay them anything and i'm the one who needed convenience for mental/physical health reasons.

And and and there's just so much involved. And yeah i could go to the store smelly and in my pajamas and with no binder on but then i'd feel like crap the whole way and my back would feel like it's going to collapse like a jenga tower.

I am just very tired and very in pain e en though i took painkillers and also thirsty and starting to get hungry again. And i could put this off and only drink water and tea until they hopefully send my replacement ebt card in the mail or until i'm forced to go out on Saturday for work but like. I really shouldn't put it off more.

On the other hand i could. I do still have food and access to water. And i could see if ordering and picking up some groceries is an option so i don't have to walk around as much.

I'm just. So tired haha.

[keeps-ache]

ooo yea. ooohhhh yrass. ohhgh hhh yepps. oh yeah

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

After last episode I’m thinking what if Aegon tells his wife what happened when he wakes up and she goes ballistic on Aemond because the man she loves was hurt in battle, by his own brother nevertheless. (Maybe she sees the dagger that normally sits in its sheath on Aegons hip)

Request: Aegon returning to King’s Landing after Rook’s Rest. His wife worries about him and stay by his side

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You became sick with worries when you saw Aemond and Vhagar return to King’s Landing, alone.  

He walked into the Red Keep and called for a small council meeting to report about Rook’s Rest. You sat in the seat beside the King’s empty one, listening as Aemond recounted that the plan he and Ser Criston had come up with got crashed by the Blacks, who sent Rhaenys to Lord Staunton's aid. 

‘’What of His Grace?’’ you asked, having seen Aegon depart from the dragonpit hours ago. 

Aemond lowered his gaze, making the knot in your stomach tighten. No war was bloodier than one with dragons. Meleys was a large dragon, and she had battle experience. Mayhaps something happened to Sunfyre? You knew Aegon would refuse to leave his side if anything happened to him. 

‘’There was an incident involving the King,’’ he began. 

You held your breath as Aemond continued. 

‘’While I was waiting for Cole's signal, His Grace engaged in a one-on-one with Meleys, but the latter brutally attacked Sunfyre, causing him — and Aegon — to freefall in a nearby forest with great force before I could take the sky and come to their aid.’’ 

Everyone fell completely silent. 

You felt your vision blur as the room began to spin. Your face paled, and a cup of water was brought to you. You took a small sip, but you were still feeling unwell. 

You should not have let him join the battle. He had no military training, it was reckless. 

‘’Where is Aegon now?’’ the dowager Queen asked her younger son, her voice filled with maternal concern. 

‘’At Rook's Rest,’’ Aemond replied. ‘’Ser Criston and Ser Gwayne are marching back to King’s Landing with what little remains of the Green army. They are bringing his critically injured body.’’

⁂

Three days later, Ser Criston’s army arrived at King’s Landing. You had not slept since being informed about Aegon’s fall, your mind filled with worried thoughts and dark fears. Your handmaiden had suggested you take a draught for sleep, but you declined. You couldn’t risk being in a deep sleep when Aegon would come in through the gates. 

While they were parading Meleys's slain head through the city, six knights walked through the Keep, holding their King in a closed litter that hid him completely. He was brought to his chambers where several maester began working on him. 

‘’Is he alive?’’ you asked, trying to get information on your husband's state. 

The maesters couldn't answer, feeling a pulse so faint they didn't want to give you false hopes. You were escorted out as they worked on removing the armor which had melted onto Aegon's left arm. The image was not one a Queen should see, they said. 

You found yourself at Alicent's doors, needing someone to share your fears and worries with. She invited you to sit on her couch and had camomile tea brought to you to calm your nerves. You had not been this anxious since the birth of your first child. 

Noticing your shaking hands, the dowager Queen took the one who was not holding the teacup in hers. ‘’He’s strong, like his father,’’ she said softly. ‘’He’ll recover.’’ 

⁂

Late into the night, you were allowed back in the King’s chambers. Aegon had not yet woken, laying in the bed with his eyes closed. Half of his body was wrapped in bandages, covering the burns. 

All he wanted was to prove the realm that he wasn't useless. And now, he laid in bed, badly burned with a broken hip, and numerous broken ribs.

You sat all night by Aegon's bedside, refusing to leave him.

‘’You should get some rest, Your Grace,’’ the Grand Maester suggested when he came in to check on Aegon in the morning, noticing you were still in yesterday’s dress. 

He was probably right. Your eyes felt dry from lack of sleep and the shadows under them were dark. 

‘’I will rest when he wakes,’’ you replied. 

⁂

A tear fell down your face when Aegon woke days later, mumbling your name with his dry throat. He was in severe pain from his injuries, so the Grand Maester administered him a strong concoction of milk of the poppy to sooth his pain. It made his mind cloudy, and very sleepy. 

That night, you allowed yourself to sleep in a bed. 

⁂

For the duration of his recovery, you were moved to Aegon's old chambers. 

They had not been occupied since the coronation. When you walked in, you noticed everything was the way it always was, the way Aegon liked. 

It felt strange to be there without him. 

As you sat on the bed in your nightgown, you were reminded of life before he was crowned. Times were simpler back then. The realm was at peace and Aegon didn't have to put himself in danger to prove he was worthy of the crown. 

You missed that time. 

⁂

While Aegon was bedstruck, you took seat on the Iron Throne to rule in his absence. He trusted you with his life, and would want no one else than you to wear his crown. His mother and grandsire ruled in his father's absence through his long illness and manipulated everything and everyone around them. Aegon didn't want that happening to him. 

Although you didn’t know how to rule a war, you listened to the men sitting at the small council table, seeking their opinions and counsel. Now you understood why Aegon said they all bore him. Sitting there and listening to Lord Larys’s report of whispers, Lord Tyland’s financial complaints, and other reports that came by ravens made you want to indulge in wine. 

‘’What is the next move, Your Grace? Our men have recovered from the battle at Rook’s Rest and are ready for the next move. More men have been trained and knighted, and are waiting for the next commands.’’ 

You glanced at the map to your left, studying the pins of the houses who had bent the knee to Aegon and the ones who had not, trying to come up with a strategy, but before you could answer, Aemond spoke. 

‘’The Riverlands. Me and Cole will be heading north-west and amassing an army to march against Daemon Targaryen and Harrenhal.’’

You directed your eyes back to the table, looking straight forward at Aemond. ‘’Since when are you in charge of leading our armies, Prince Aemond? The last time you and Ser Criston plotted without my husband’s authority, it ended in a carnage of our army and put our King in a critical condition. I reject your strategy and forbid you from plotting without my authority by risk of being removed from this council.’’

After the small council meeting was over, you returned to Aegon’s side and were surprised to find him awake. He had been given him a gentle sponge bath by the maids while you were absent, his silver hair damp on his pillow. You also noticed that the maester had changed his bandages. 

‘’Where is Sunfyre?’’ Aegon asked when you sat, speaking coherently for the first time in weeks. 

‘’Near Rook’s Rest,’’ you replied. ‘’He was so badly maimed that he's not even able to be moved back to King's Landing. Ser Criston stationed men near to guard him while he is recovering. You need not to worry, my love.’’ 

You took his hand that was not strapped and resting against his chest in yours, trying to ease his worries. He hated being apart from Sunfyre, especially knowing his dragon was injured and in pain. Aegon vividly remembered his cries of pain when they were attacked by Meleys’ claws and teeth. He wished he could go to him. 

‘’My memory is blurry, but he saved me. When we crashed down backward, Sunfyre was going to kill me with his weight, but he angled his body to avoid crushing me.’’ 

Aegon tried to shift into a more sitting position, but groaned as pain shot through his whole body. His burns were healing nicely under the bandages, but his broken hip and ribs were going to take a lot longer. 

You reached on the night table and poured him a small cup of milk of the poppy. ‘’Here.’’ 

It would make him sleepy, but at least it’ll relieve his pain. 

Until the effects kicked in, you informed him of what happened while he was unconscious. 

‘’The crown must look great on you,’’ Aegon said, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile. 

Any form of facial expression caused his tender, burned skin to sting, so he refrained from them most of the time. 

You huffed, remembering the words of the men at the council when you sat in the King’s seat. ‘’Your council is not happy with me ruling in your stead. They claim that a war should not be led by a woman and that it makes the war look ridiculous as it began with not wanting a woman on the throne. 

‘’Whoever dares question your seat and ability to rule should be removed from my council.’’ Aegon's face was dead serious. No ill tongues will be tolerated speaking about his wife. Not in his court, and certainly not from his council.

Unfortunately, you could not do that. What would the small council become without a Master of Coins or a Master of Law?

You continued with other news. ‘’The beast who is responsible for your fall got taken down by Aemond. His rider, Rhaenys Targaryen, perished with her. Now, the Blacks are down from another dragon. It’s a victory for us, but our army suffered severe losses due to dragonfire.’’ 

At the mention of dragonfire, flashes of the battle blurred Aegon’s mind. ‘’What has my brother told the council?’’ 

You recounted what Aemond said, and Aegon’s frown deepened as his memories became clearer. 

His grip on your hand tightened. ‘’It is not what happened at Rook’s Rest. You must listen to me. It is not Rhaenys who aimed at me with dragonfire, it was Aemond.’’

⁂

Aegon’s words echoed in your head as you bathed that night. Had he confessed about his brother’s betrayal to someone else, they would say he was delirious and confused from the milk of the poppy, but you knew he was not. He was perfectly conscious, his memories from Rook’s Rest slowly coming back to him. 

From what you knew, Aemond never showed signs of bad intentions toward his brother. As Aegon often said, Aemond was his blood and fiercely loyal. He trusted him. So why would Aemond turn on him during a battle and unleash dragonfire at Aegon? There must be a motive for him to intentionally harm his kin, his brother. 

It was difficult to discern any emotions from Aemond. He was always composed and cold. Mayhaps his facade hid jealousy for his older brother? It was frequent among second sons. Although, Aegon never was the favorite son. It was always Aemond. 

Until teh Conqueror’s crown was placed on his head. Mayhaps he had a secret thirst for the throne? It would explain his military ambitions and his desire for a place at the council table. The best way to kill a King is to get close enough to stab him when he least expects it.

You sighed and leaned back in the tub, closing your eyes as your body was covered by the warm water. The memory of Aegon's pained expression as he recounted his brother's betrayal — a treason to the crown — haunted you. 

‘’He is my blood,’’ Aegon had whispered, his voice trembling. ‘’Why would he do this?’’

⁂

In the early morning, you requested a private audience with Aemond. 

‘’I wish to know what really happened at Rook’s Rest,’’ you said firmly. ‘’As your Queen.’’ 

Aemond stood in front of you, clad in his usual leathers and an emotionless face. ‘’I gave my full report to the small council when I returned from King’s Landing. Nothing else is to be said.’’ 

You pressed on, your voice unwavering. ‘’It was told to the smallfolk Aegon had slain Meleys, which is false as you have told us it was Vhagar who killed her. This discrepancy makes me question if there are more lies woven into your truth. You reported that Meleys had brutally attacked Sunfyre with her claws and teeth but you never mentioned dragonfire. Yet burns cover half of His Grace’s body.’’

If Aemond felt any hint of nervousness at your probing, he did not show it.

‘’Are you questioning my truth, Your Grace?’’ he asked, his tone cold.

You knew that saying ‘yes’ would turn your question into an accusation of treason. By suggesting that he had harmed the King, Aemond could easily twist the accusation back on you. And what proof did you have? Your husband, who lay crippled in bed, dulled by milk of the poppy for most of the day? His moments of lucidity would not be believed by anyone.

Perhaps you could ask Ser Criston or Ser Gwayne what they had witnessed. Or bring the matter to the dowager Queen; she might decipher her son's body language better than you could.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something familiar caught your eye.

‘’This is Aegon’s dagger,’’ you pointed, recognizing the handle sitting on Aemond’s hip.

‘’Indeed. He lost it during the battle at Rook’s Rest. I retrieved it from the forest,’’ Aemond replied.

‘’And why is it sitting on your hip, Prince Aemond? The Conqueror’s dagger has been given to him during the coronation, along with his crown. It should be in His Grace’s chambers, where it belongs.’’

Aemond's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. ‘’I kept it safe, as any loyal brother would. Would you rather it had been lost forever?’’

You met his gaze, unflinching. ‘’Give it back to me.’’ 

Aemond stiffened at your words, his jaw clenching. He placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger, a defensive gesture that he couldn’t help but do. ‘’And if I refuse?’’ 

Your heart beat faster at Aemond's defiance, but you refused to back down. Taking a step forward, you locked eyes with him, your gaze steely ‘’Do not defy your queen. This is not a request, it's a command. The dagger belongs to Aegon. Give it to me, now!’’

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his fingers still gripping tightly to the dagger’s hilt. But your stern demeanor and unwavering command made it clear that there was no alternative. 

With reluctance, he pulled the dagger from his hip and held it out to you, handle first. 

You took the dagger from Aemond, your fingers grazing against his as you did so. ‘’I suggest you kiss goodbye to that dream of yours, my Prince. I know what you are. And when Aegon is strong enough to speak his truth, you will pay for what you did.’’

—

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[eufezco]

I saw your Bridgerton requests were open !

Can I do one for Benedict they’re courting but suddenly he starts spending more time with Tilly so reader starts to distance herself from him and starts to spend more time with Colin and Benedict gets jealous and pulls her away from Colin maybe they’re dancing or something. And pulls her to another room and apologizes and maybe smut occurs or something as a part of his apology ?

If not that’s ok I thought I’d ask!

YOU BELONG WITH ME

—Are you leaving with Colin? —Benedict asked you in disbelief.

You had been talking with Anthony and Kate about your intentions to join Colin on his next trip and it seemed that the older Bridgerton brother had wasted no time in letting Benedict know.

Now you were in a room of the Queen's palace, alone with Benedict and the piano in the center of it. He had practically begged you to give him a few minutes of your time, had interrupted your dance with Colin, and led you by the hand into that room. You and Benedict were the match of the season so the Queen had managed to distract the other guests while you sneaked out of the ball.

—How is it that you care?

—He is my brother.

You raised your eyebrows, hoping for some further explanation.

—You cannot leave with him —Benedict stated.

You shook your head, keeping eye contact with him. His blue eyes looked back at you and you just wished he could see the anger growing on your face.

—Where have you been these past days, Benedict?

He immediately knew what you were talking about.

It was true that he had not been visiting you during calling hours, he had not asked you out for walks, he had not picked flowers from the garden of Aubrey Hall to bring them to you while he had tea with your mama. He hadn't even bothered to put his name on your card tonight to secure a dance with you.

—I have been visiting a friend —He answered you.

—Since when are you friends with Tilley Arnold?

Benedict huffed a laugh. —Why is it that you care so much?

—Because you were courting me! —If it hadn't been for the loud music in the ballroom you would have sworn that the rest of the guests would have heard you. —A couple of days with Tilley Arnold have been enough for you to forget about me?

—I do not know, perhaps you can tell me since you are the one leaving with my brother to another country —Benedict said ironically.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. On another occasion, you would have appreciated Benedict's lack of seriousness but right in that moment you were angry and you just wanted to get out of that room. You turned your back on Benedict to leave but on your way to the door, he grabbed your hand and made your body turn to him. Your face showed disappointment and anger and he knew he couldn't let you go like that.

—I apologize if I have ever caused you to doubt how I feel for you.

You took a deep breath through your nose. You were still angry but his words definitely made you feel better.

—My feelings for you have not changed —. He continued saying. Benedict began to walk slowly and you took a few steps backwards trying to escape from him until you bumped your back against the door. That didn't stop him from moving towards you. —And I don't think Tilley or anyone else can possibly change the way you make me feel.

Benedict's eyes moved from yours to your lips and you knew what he was about to do.

—Do not kiss me, Benedict, not now.

He slowly nodded, one of his hands pinched your chin so you would look at him. He gave you enough time so that if you really didn't want him to kiss you, you could push him away. —I am going to kiss you.

—Do not —You mumbled, but your eyes fixed on his lips betrayed the words that came out of your mouth and Benedict pressed his lips against yours. His hands went to cup both of your cheeks and you melted under his touch. How could you be angry with him if he kissed you with such sweetness?

Benedict's hands traveled down your body looking for your ass. He gave you a gentle squeeze and with his grip there, he started to roll up your dress to your hips, exposing your legs and making it easier for you to wrap them around his body.

Your hands were around his neck, helping him to hold your weight and also to deepen the kiss as much as possible. He guided you to the piano, his lips moving with yours and his eyes closed enjoying the kiss, so distracted by the feeling that when he sat you down on the instrument, the lid was up and your ass pressed down almost all the keys. You both jumped off each other, scared, but right after you bursted out laughing.

While you laughed and shook your heads, you got up and pushed Benedict off his shoulders, making him sit on the instrument stool. You rolled your dress up so the fabric wouldn't get in the way once you sat with a leg on each side of his body. Your cleavage was just a few centimeters away from his face and he didn't even try to make eye contact with you when your breasts, so enhanced by the corset, were practically in his face.

—My eyes are up here.

—I do know that—. Benedict said while his hands unbuttoned your dress and undid the laces of your corset.

Your body relaxed once it was freed from the uncomfortable undergarment and Benedict's lips were quick to attack your breasts. You took a deep breath and bit your lower lip, Benedict hummed while his lips left a wet trail of kisses across your breasts. Your hands moved down his body until they reached his crotch, he hissed when your fingers traced the line of his hard cock on his pants. You were quick to unbutton them and he helped you pull down his underwear just enough to free his cock.

His blue eyes were finally on yours, focusing on every little expression on your face. His lips were parted as you pulled your underwear to one side and lined him up against your entrance. You looked into his eyes and your lips half opened as his own which allowed you to share a moan when you gently lowered yourself.

Benedict kissed you again while his hands moved to hold your hips and help you move. One of your hands went to the back of his head and tugged his hair at the root. Benedict groaned but his dick jumped inside you.

—Tell me you're mine. Only mine, Benedict. Tell me I'm the only one.

You pressed your foreheads together while your hand kept a firm grip on his hair.

—I'm yours. Only yours —He said with a moan. His eyes closed shut, your body didn't stop moving up and down his cock, and his hands held you tighter. Benedict tried to catch your lips but you tugged harder on his hair and stopped him. You shook your head, that was not enough, you wanted to hear more. —You're my only one. No other woman shall have me the way you have me —He whined.

That was much better. —Good boy.

You allowed him to press his desperate lips against yours. You also allowed Benedict to set the pace, his hips fucking into you, thrusting from below to match your movements. You moaned in each other's mouths. The music was playing loudly in the ballroom but still, you swore that someone could hear your muffled scream when Benedict sunk balls deep inside you.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in some room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in a random room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs. And by the wrinkles of the delicate fabric of your beautiful dress, they would know that it was going to be very difficult to see Benedict around Tilley Arnold anymore, and by the way Benedict wouldn't leave your side during the rest of the ball, they would know that you had no love interest in Colin Bridgerton.

Benedict would make sure that neither you nor anyone else in society would doubt how he felt about you and would assure that by putting a ring on your finger the next morning.

He came with a deep groan coming straight from his chest. You hid your face in the crook of his neck while your legs shook and you felt dizzy from all the panting. Benedict kissed your exposed shoulder as he gave you enough time to catch your breath. He caressed your back and ran his fingers over the marks left on your skin by the tight corset.

You fixed your position on his lap, sitting with your back straight. Benedict was still inside you, not allowing his cum to come out and go to waste.

—You must know that my wishes to join Colin on his trip to Greece have not changed.

Benedict huffed a laugh and kissed your lips. You smiled as well.

—Then I shall join you two. What would people think if you went alone with him? —By the way he asked it you knew that he meant no harm, instead, the tone in his voice was quite sarcastic.

—Since when Benedict Bridgerton cares about what other people may think?

—Since they would be talking about my wife.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae!!! I saw that the requests were open so I thought I would request something but if I misread it or something then please ignore this!

I was wondering if you could write something with reader not used to being taken care of? Like they have always taken care of others and have never had the opportunity to be taken care of so when someone else does they feel the need to do something for them in return? I was thinking of maybe Remus for this one? Or maybe a poly! Ship but you can write whoever you want!!

I understand if this is not a topic you would like to write about but I just love your writing and thought I would give it a try. Thank you for reading this anyway and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(Sorry it’s such a long request)

No you were right lovely! Thanks for your request :)

roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 625 words

You pad into the kitchen, blanket around your shoulders and half-dissolved lozenge tucked into your cheek, to find the sink clear of dishes yet again. Guilt grows like winding vines around your ribcage. 

You put on the kettle. Stand over it as the steam starts to rise, breathing in the thick air and imagining you can feel the pressure in your sinuses lessening slightly. You make a cup of turmeric tea with honey for yourself, and English breakfast for Remus, stirring in a tiny bit of sugar the way he likes. You’re careful to keep it well away from you and your potential contagious-ness while you carry it upstairs. 

You knock softly in case, but Remus is awake, as you knew he’d be. 

“Morning,” he says, looking up from his book with a smile. The sight of him, sleep-rumpled and happy to see you, is almost too much. His eyes flicker down to the mugs you’re carrying, eyebrows lifting. “For me?” 

“Mhm.” You pass it to him, ignoring his soft tutting when you turn it in your grip so the handle is facing out towards him. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says warmly. He blows steam off the top, honeyed eyes on yours. “I should be the one getting up to make you tea, really. How are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You shrug, taking a sip of your tea. The heat dissolves your lozenge faster, double soothing for your throat. “And you’ve done more than enough already. Sorry about the dishes.” 

Remus’ expression clouds with confusion for a moment before he realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t be doing dishes if I was unwell, either.” 

“Thanks for doing them for me,” you say softly. Or you try to, but it ends in a rasp, your throat contracting against a cough that doesn’t form. You clear it embarrassedly. 

Your roommate’s brows bend with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “It’s really no problem. You don’t need to bring me tea just because I did a few of your dishes.” 

“I want to make it up to you.” 

His expression softens. “There’s nothing to make up, love. It’s not a debt that needs to be repaid.” 

You frown, chewing your lozenge. “At least let me make you breakfast. Is there anything you’re craving?” 

“No.” Remus smiles at you. Not quite confused, almost disbelieving. “You don’t need to make me anything. You should be resting.” 

“I’ve been resting.” You sniff, wincing at the pain it sends through your head. You’ve been either in bed or on the couch for days, and meanwhile Remus has been cleaning up your messes, keeping quiet so you can sleep, and bringing you soup from that place you like down the street. 

“It’s my turn to help now,” you say. 

“It’ll be your turn when I’m poorly and miserable.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, humming disapprovingly. You use every scrap of willpower you have left not to melt into his bed. “Listen to me, alright? I don’t mind looking after you. It’s not transactional. I washed your dishes because they were there and I had the time, and—” He gives you a playful look. “—because I know that if I were up all night coughing, I wouldn’t want to worry about dishes. Okay?” 

His eyes hold yours. You feel perhaps the most out of it you have since this illness came on. Drunk, almost. “Okay,” you capitulate. 

Remus smiles. “Thank you. So you can stop trying to think up ways to get even.” He picks up his tea. “I can see that head of yours working. Leave it alone, it’s going through enough.” 

You smile back, caught. “Thanks for all your help.” 

“Don’t worry about it, love.”

[thesecondhandwoman]

you did my last ask so great I had to ask again. This time could you do a Grayson or Ambessa with a chronically ill reader. More so on the chronic pain side. Maybe they need mobile aids? Take your time, drink some water and take care of yourself

-🧚‍♂️

CHRONICALLY ILL

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Ambessa has always loved you, ever since the day you two had become so close. But once you slowly become more and more ill, you start to doubt that she would ever love such a burden.

Request: Anon 🤍

Noxus, with its towering spires and ever-burning forges, was a city of unyielding strength. It was a place where weakness was supposedly stamped out, where survival meant thriving against all odds. You had grown up in the shadow of that philosophy, and it had shaped you in ways you didn’t fully realize until your body began to betray you.

At first, it had been manageable—an ache here, a stiffness there. But as the years went on, the pain grew relentless. It wasn’t the kind of battle you could fight with a blade or conquer with brute force, and in Noxus, that was a struggle all its own.

Then there was Ambessa.

Your life as her assistant had started humbly, a position born out of necessity rather than ambition. You had worked tirelessly, managing her correspondence, organizing her campaigns, and ensuring her days flowed as seamlessly as possible. Ambessa had always been a figure larger than life—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding. But as time passed, she had seen through the masks you wore, glimpsing the pain you thought you’d hidden so well.

And instead of turning away, she stayed.

Now, as the warm glow of her private study illuminated the richly furnished room, you sat curled up in your favorite chair, a steaming cup of tea trembling slightly in your hands. Your cane rested against the chair’s arm, its polished wood worn smooth from years of use.

The pain was worse today, a deep, gnawing ache that radiated through your legs and up into your spine. Even the soft cushion beneath you felt unforgiving, and every shift of your weight sent new waves of discomfort rippling through your body. You tried to focus on the tea, on the way the steam curled into the air, but it was impossible to ignore the familiar throb of pain.

The sound of heavy boots against the stone floor made your heart jump. Ambessa entered the room with the confidence of someone who owned not just the space but the very air within it. Her gaze swept over you, sharp and assessing, and she frowned the moment her eyes met yours.

“How long have you been sitting there, little one?” Her voice was low, rich, and filled with a concern she never bothered to mask when it came to you.

You offered a tired smile, though it felt half-hearted at best. “Not too long,” you lied, knowing she wouldn’t believe you.

Ambessa crossed the room in a few long strides, her imposing presence somehow comforting rather than intimidating. She knelt before you, her strong hands resting on the arms of your chair as she studied your face.

“Do not lie to me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of command.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you carried. “A while,” you admitted. “It’s been one of those days.”

Her frown deepened, and she reached out to take the teacup from your trembling hands, setting it aside with care. Her calloused fingers found yours, enveloping them in a warmth that made your throat tighten.

“You should have called for me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you replied, looking away. “You’ve got armies to command, strategies to plan. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

Ambessa let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “And yet, here I am, worrying about you. What does that tell you?”

You didn’t answer, the guilt curling in your chest too heavy to put into words.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice softening. When you finally met her gaze, her amber eyes were filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You are not a burden, Y/N. You are not something I tolerate or endure. You are mine, and I will always care for you. Do you understand?”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded silently.

Ambessa rose smoothly to her full height, towering over you but somehow making you feel safe rather than small. She moved to sit on the armrest of your chair, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she pulled you against her side. The scent of steel and leather clung to her, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Tell me what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple.

“Just…stay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “It helps, having you here.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then here I’ll stay.”

The hours slipped by as Ambessa stayed true to her word. She didn’t so much as glance at the mountain of paperwork on her desk or the sealed missives waiting for her attention. Instead, she focused entirely on you.

When your pain became too much to sit upright, she helped you to the large, plush bed in the corner of the room. She adjusted the pillows with meticulous care, ensuring your legs were elevated just enough to ease the pressure.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her hand lingering on your knee as she knelt beside the bed.

“Getting there,” you said with a faint smile.

She nodded, standing to fetch a soft, fur-lined blanket from a nearby chair. Draping it over you, she tucked it around your sides with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who only knew her as the iron-fisted warlord of Noxus.

As you settled in, the pain began to ebb—not completely, but enough that you could breathe a little easier. Ambessa sat beside you, her hand resting on top of yours, her thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

“Tell me about the mountains again,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up her face. “Ah, the mountains. Strong, unyielding, and ancient. They remind me of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t feel very unyielding right now.”

Ambessa’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps not in this moment. But every day, you endure what would break most others. That is strength, my love. Strength I admire.”

Her words wrapped around you like a shield, deflecting the self-doubt that often lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, squeezing her hand weakly.

“Always,” she replied, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, your pain ebbed and flowed, but Ambessa remained at your side. She spoke of her travels, of the unyielding peaks of Noxus, and the people who called them home. Her voice was steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, lulling you into a fragile sense of peace.

When sleep finally claimed you, it was with the knowledge that no matter how relentless your battles became, Ambessa would always be there—your shield, your comfort, and the one person who made the fight worth it.

A/N: This is definitely not my best way of successfully fulfilling a response, but I hope it was alright! (I love requests like this)

[daycourtofficial]

Come to Bed

Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.

Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh

Az: Come to bed :(

It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.

He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.

But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.

Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.

But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.

Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.

Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”

“You asked for me to come to bed.”

Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.

“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.

Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”

“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.

“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.

Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“

Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”

Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.

“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”

Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.

Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.

Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.

“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”

Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.

You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”

You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.

The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.

“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.

“Sleep well?”

He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.

“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”

You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.

“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”

He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”

You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.

“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”

“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”

[mockerycrow]

UNDER THE SURFACE (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist — ghost icon by @yumethefrostypanda concept post here!

authors note; this is not my best work tbh, i wish i could improve it somehow, but i’m hoping you guys will like it anyway. Pretty sure this is my longest singular post, too! 4.7k words :-)

[WARNINGS: angst, spiraling thoughts, near panic attack, hurt/comfort, inaccurate medical stuff, vague descriptions of physical violence, very brief mention of possible self harm.]

YOU WERE USED to Simon being gone for long periods of time; you have been his roommate for two years now, nearly three. You know he’s military, it’s part of the reason why you were able to score being his roommate in the first place. At first, it was a very awkward arrangement. Simon himself wasn’t a very awkward person, no—he’s actually quite charismatic in his own way, a way that you could get along with. One of the reasons why the arrangement was strange at first was because you weren’t exactly able to get a one on one tour of the flat before agreeing, but you were a bit more trusting of this mysterious man because a mutual friend—Kate—sent you his contact information, considering you were looking for a new place to live since your lease was up.

Simon’s flat was void of any personality, really. Yes, you could tell by the way he organized everything that he had been in the military, probably for quite a while—but there weren’t any photos. No gaming systems; you discovered he did have a bookcase of quite a few books, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Despite this, when examining the books he owned, you could tell they were worn down—definitely loved. It made you smile a bit, seeing the different variety of books. A bit of personality, you think. Besides his room, it was like a completely furnished, no personality flat. You weren’t allowed in his room, not unless he gave you explicit permission, which you honored his boundaries. Simon was kind enough to offer you a space in his home—but you know he was quite weary of you, which was understandable. He helped you move in and you could tell he was watching you and your body language. Searching you for danger—but he slowly warmed up to you.

Another thing that you discovered that Simon was quite emotionally.. constipated. Over the first few months, you could tell he didn’t sleep as much as he probably should. He was always awake before you, and you would always find him in the kitchen, sipping on a hot cup of tea. After a few weeks of this routine—Simon rising much earlier than you, you figured maybe he couldn’t break the military’s strict routines.. Until one night you woke up from the sound of his heavy footsteps walking down the hall. You tensed in your bed and you sat up because Simon was silent as a ghost all the time. You didn’t even know if it was him at first, so in your half-asleep panicked state, you felt for your phone and you texted Simon’s contact, asking a messily texted “is that you walking around?” You blink your sleepiness away and wipe your eye as your phone vibrates with a “yeah. sorry.”

That was the first time you got some notion that Simon was thrown off guard from something, after another week of awakening from his noises, you began to realize that he was experiencing night terrors every couple of nights. His nightmares were never a thing you two discussed, exactly.. It was more of an unspoken rule to not talk about it. You would occasionally find yourself in the kitchen around the time you calculated when Simon would wake up—and you were right nearly every time—and you just.. coincidentally made him a cup of tea. To Simon’s pleasant surprise, you managed to get his tea right every single time. You’ve had your fair share of night terrors, so you knew how it could be sometimes. You wanted to do something nice for him, and he seemed flustered every time.

It took you a while to get used to him being gone for long periods of time. Simon appreciated that you never questioned too deeply into his career, even the times he would come home sporting a new injury, you were always willing to play doctor for him. Simon saw the concern in your eyes and sometimes he would share small stories of what happened, or maybe to get you to stop thinking about his injuries, a small story about his teammates. You slowly learned their names over the course of a year and a half, and you learned Simon’s rank as well. He is a lieutenant, and there’s a man called Captain Price, another man named Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and one more man named Sergeant John MacTavish, who Simon referred to as “Johnny” fondly.

It wasn’t common that Simon talked about work, which is the reason why it took about a year and a half to even get the information you did out of him. Over the time you’ve lived with him, you had decorated the flat to feel more comfortable and home-y. Simon only had a few requests, which you honored, and one of them was no pictures of him with his face showing. You shot him a curious and questioning look, but as always—you didn’t question him, and he was very thankful. You had gotten a few indoor plants as well that didn’t need much caring for and you wanted to liven up the place, y’know? You were okay with Simon not sharing much about his past or his work, because he was willing to listen to your little rambles about your interests and work. You were a bit hesitant, but Simon was very emotive and he never seemed annoyed or brushed you off.

Despite Simon’s reluctance to share anything of his own, he always heard you out if you needed to vent about something. He made sure you knew you could talk to him, even on days where you felt like you had no one to go to. You spent an entire night with him, just talking about anything and everything. It was the first real conversation you felt like you have had with anyone in such a long time. It was also the first night Simon really saw you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed from uncomfortableness, the vulnerability being nearly too much to handle; something he could relate to on a personal level. So when you started showing these signs, he knew exactly when to change the subject. Simon quickly realized how to read you, and he somehow knew what you needed at different moments.

Simon flies into the airport late at night with a small duffel bag, tagged as a military bag. He sends you a quick “be home soon.” text. Simon doesn’t expect you to answer due to it being around 3 in the morning, and you indeed don’t answer him. He catches a taxi to your shared flat. Simon collects his things from the taxi before paying the driver and sending them off, and Simon lets out a slow breath as he takes in the achingly familiar sight of the place he lives in. He tugs the hood that remains sitting over his head closer to his face, which is covered by a black surgical mask. His hand tightens on the straps of the duffel bag before he approaches the flat building, taking out his keys as he approaches the elevator. Once Simon reaches the third floor, he wastes no time getting to the front door, and he isn’t sure why, but his heart is pounding inside of his chest.

Simon unlocks both the top lock and the doorknob to enter the flat—something he had taught you to do every single time. He pockets his keys as he enters and Simon pauses for a moment because he can’t put his finger on it, but something feels off the second he glanced inside. His eyes trail the living room which is clean, not one thing out of place. Simon takes a deep breath and he doesn’t brush off the weird feeling, because even when there’s no evidence something happened—he’s usually right. The blanket on the couch is perfectly folded and laid over the back cushions, the mini bookcase by the TV is dusted as always, your shoes.. Are not by the front door, but a different pair are..? These either are not your shoes, or they are new. You always warned Simon about bringing people over, and you definitely would’ve told him this time. The lamp is on in the living room, but it seems the lights are out everywhere else. Simon silently goes through his routine when he gets back late at night—taking his jacket off and hanging it up, he leaves his boots by the door, and he drops his keys into the dish.

Next step to his routine is to step into the kitchen and get a cup of actually good quality tea, unlike the shit the military provides him. He fills up the electric kettle and sets a timer on it, grabbing his favorite mug and the box of his favorite tea from the cabinets. Simon glances down the dark hall—he’s seeking for a sign of life from you because you’re usually getting up around this time to greet him. No matter what, you always seem to know when he returns—yet you aren’t leaving your room. There’s no light emitting from the hall nor underneath the doors, and fuck, it’s eating at him. Something is wrong—and what the fuck is it? Simon stands there for a moment, turning his head to watch the blue light blinking on the electric kettle. He watches it blink slowly as he tries to rack his brain for what could be wrong—maybe those shoes are someone else’s, but he could just have a stern conversation with you about it later. Maybe you came back from drinking with friends—no, if that was the case, he knows for a fact your belongings would be everywhere, maybe even a spilled glass of water in the kitchen. He’s had to clean that up a couple of times.

He raises his wrist and pulls up his sleeve a bit to look at his digital watch; it’s nearly 0400 now. Simon puts his hands on the counter, leaning his body weight against it. Did something happen at work, maybe that’s why it feels off? You’ve always had a commanding presence like he has, so maybe— “Fuck.” Simon hisses quietly, hooking a finger into the strap of his black face mask and he rips it off, tossing it without care onto the counter. He leans forward and checks the kettles timer for a second, and then he’s walking towards the hall. Simon passes by his room and he walks up to yours, and he tries to turn the doorknob to peak in to check on you, but—it’s locked? Simon lets out a harsh breath before trying the door again, and yeah, it’s locked. Simon swears under his breath and he knocks on the door, his stomach twisting and turning. Something is wrong, very very wrong, very fucking wrong—

You unlock the door and you open it just enough for you to peak out, and you use your phone flashlight to shine it in Simon’s face. He squints and puts his hand up, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Hey—you locked your door.” He points out quietly, and you’re just staring at him, your eyes wide and alert. Simon’s anxiety lessens, but your reaction doesn’t make it go away. “Y’alright?” Simon drawls out, his hand on the wood panel of the door. You let out a harsh breath and you let go of your phone, letting out a quiet, “Simon..” before you suddenly pull your door completely open, and you wrap your arms around his thick torso into a hug. Simon swears his heart jumps into his throat and then into his stomach, bouncing back into his chest because you hugged him. You two were never particularly touchy like that, maybe a fleeting touch here or two, usual drunken affection from you—but you barely ever hugged him like this, even when he returned from deployments. Your touch burns hot through his clothes, and he knows you wouldn’t touch him without asking, so when you do? He wraps an arm around you, his free arm resting on your shoulder. “Hey..” Simon breathes out, lost for words.

You don’t hold on long enough for the uncomfortable worry to creep up his spine just yet. You rip yourself away from him like he burned you, his hands falling to his sides. You offer a tight, weak smile—one that you could easily play off as a sign of fatigue. Simon’s breath stutters as he watches your hands linger near your chest in a subconscious defensive gesture, your fingers closing into a fist for a moment; as if you’re uncomfortable, almost overstimulated. Simon feels the way for the light switch and he flips it on, and your room looks normal—but you look.. off. You look a bit clammy, almost like you’re sick or bouncing off the walls with anxiety. His eyes flick to your fingers and the skin besides your thumbnail and your middle finger are picked to all hell, and you just.. don’t seem right. All of these.. signs, you’re showing are actually very subtle—he just notices everything about you. Simon knows what food you favor, what your favorite color is, what social situations what you tick, what makes you mad—he knows it all. “Three months went by slow,” You murmur, trying to start a conversation. Simon’s eyes narrow at you for a moment as he watches you back up to your bed; no, you don’t turn around, you back up. You don’t turn your back to Simon at all. Fuck. He watches you lift your mattress, causing him to lift an eyebrow. “They did,” Simon confirms. “What happened while I was gone?”

This wasn’t an unusual question for Simon to ask; but it had a completely different meaning to you this time. You feel your muscles tense as you grab something from under your mattress, and you put it back down. It glints from the overhead light in your bedroom—a.. pocket knife of some sort, a switchblade perhaps. Simon’s eyes narrow at how you pocket it oh so quickly into your pocket. “Nothing much,” You reply quickly, smoothing out your shirt. “Same old same old, work has been fine, uh..” You trail off for a moment, clearing your throat. “Look, let me take a shower—I’m sure you’re itching for something to eat, huh?” Simon watches you open your drawers and pick out some pants and a shirt. The knife comes to mind—why are you taking it with you? “I can make it myself.” Simon responds, his feet planted firmly where he had been standing the whole time. You shake your head and close the drawers once you collect your clothes.

“It’s tradition, Simon. I gotta.” You offer a stronger smile as you make your way towards the door, still avoiding showing your back towards him. Simon watches as you glance at your bedroom window before exiting your room, muttering a quiet “close the door when you leave”, which Simon obeys. He shuts the door with a click, and he watches you quickly scurry down the hall towards the bathroom. “Just let me shower first.” And with that, you step into the bathroom, close the door and you lock it before Simon can interject. He stands there for a moment, stunned. His chest tightens for a moment because you just felt so far away. You’ve created such unwanted distance—even as you’re not very touchy with him, you still bother him for every detail he’s willing to give up when he returns. You are constantly making jokes, inviting him into the kitchen when you’re about to make a welcome home meal—but this time? You were hiding in your room, locking your door, bringing a knife with you—in front of him. Did you think that could slip past him? Did something happen whilst he was gone, to cause you to bring it with you? Is it for self defense against something or someone?— Is it to use on yourself?

Simon feels his stomach turn at his thoughts. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks past the bathroom, his footsteps stuttering for a moment in front of the door before he presses his lips into a thin line, returning to the kitchen to make himself some tea, the electric kettle had beeped long ago.

The next late morning, not much was different. Simon only slept a few hours, three or four—as per usual, he still woke up before you. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, and a black hoodie. He made his tea, made you a cup of what you prefer to drink in the morning, and he made a light breakfast for you both. Despite being in the military for a while and relying on cooks as well as MRE’s to get through his days, Simon is a decent cook. He made himself some sausage and fried eggs, and he made a plate or a bowl of what you prefer to eat in the morning. Simon sighs for a moment as he glances at the time—around 1100, and you still haven’t emerged from your room which is odd, especially now that Simon just came back home. He takes a moment to look at his food, and he decides then and there he will drag you out if he has to. Simon scoops up his plate as well as your food, and he heads down the hall towards your room. With his hands full, Simon balances for a second as he gently kicks the door as a way to knock, and then he stands on both of his feet again. “Oi, wake up!” Simon shouts, leaning close to the door to listen for your movement.

It takes a good minute and when Simon is about to knock again; he hears your doorknob unlock and you peak out the door, your eyes wide and alert again, although it’s obvious you had just woken up. You seem to relax when your tired mind’s gears turn and you realize it’s just Simon. You open your door wider and you rub your eye, and he spots the knife in your hand, partially obscured by the door. “Mm, sorry. I overslept.” You say, your voice heavy with sleep, vibrating in your chest. Simon makes a noncommittal noise before holding out your food, which you stare at for a moment you take it, your lips twitching into a weak smile. “Thanks, Simon.” He waits a few seconds, and you nearly shut your door on him.

Thanks, Simon. That’s all??

“Can I eat in your room wit’you?” Simon gruffs out, feeling sudden determination from this weird act you have going on. You blink for a moment and then you nod. “Just give me a sec.” You murmur. You shut the door in his face and he hears you shuffling about, moving something—sounds like your mattress. Are you putting your knife away??—and then you open your door, gesturing for Simon to walk into your room. Surely you don’t think you can hide this type of thing from him of all people, right? Why are you hiding it from him?

Simon enters your room, and you close the door behind him. You never used to do that—“What happened?” Simon stares at you for an answer, watching your face contort in a bit of confusion. You don’t say anything at first, and when you were about to open your mouth, Simon speaks. “I mean this in the nicest way possible—do ya take me f’a wanker?” Your jaw drops for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, of course not, Simon. Nothing happened, I’m not sure why—“

“Don’t,” Simon interrupts, putting his plate of food on your dresser. “Something has happened, and you’re lyin’ to me. You’re jumpy, you’re carryin’ a blood knife around, lovie—don’t think you can get that past me—and you won’t turn your back on me.” His lips press into a line as he watches your shoulder hunch up a bit, in an all too familiar defensive, tense position. The pit in Simon’s stomach begins to grow as you avert your eyes from, too. “You are barely talkin’ when you bloody damn near talk my ear off when I come home—you said, ‘Thanks, Simon.’ Not an over the top reaction about me doing something for th’both of’us, not a invite in, and last night—you’ve been locking your door.” You put your food down near yourself, and Simon catches the way your fingers are trembling. “I.. I’m allowed to lock my door, Simon. You don’t need to question me.” You say, attempting to hold a steady voice which barely works, your voice nearly cracking on the last word. Your heart is racing out of your chest and all you want to do is bolt at the door; which Simon catches on to. You watch him as he slowly begins to step in front of the door. “You tell me everything—even how your damn showers go. Why won’t you tell me this?” He demands, and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, too.

He watches your face contort into several different emotions and feelings; panic, sadness, anger, relief—the whole nine yards. Simon walks towards you when you begin to sob, and you sit down on your bed to avoid collapsing. His chest tightens as he murmurs name, wondering if he went too far. You reach your hands for him and not for one second does Simon hesitate this time. He wraps his arms around you, sitting right next to you on your mattress, your thighs touching together. He reaches up and rubs the nape of your neck as you openly sob and shutter into the crook of his neck and in his arms. His skin burns from your heat seeping into his clothes, a lively warmth that burns so hot but he welcomes so much more than he remembers that he used to. Your tears are hot, burning his skin with every drop that slides onto his neck, but he welcomes the sensation. “It’s alright, lovie. Let it out.” Simon murmurs, one of his arms tugging your body closer to his. He holds you in almost protective stance, like someone is threatening to drag you away from his grasp. You grab at the back of his hoodie, your chest beginning to heave. “Mm, no, c’mere; look at me, yeah?” Simon beckons you, his voice smooth and soft—which is extremely rare. Simon cups your cheek and lifts your head from where it rests in the crook of his neck, his hand instantly getting covered in the wetness of your tears that are streaming down your cheeks. You inhale sharply as you try to look at Simon, your eyes unfocused and you try so hard to focus on his pretty brown eyes, but you can’t seem to get ahold of yourself. You let out a panicked sob as your hand now tug on the front of his hoodie, and his voice is so far away, but his hand is molding to the curve of your jaw, like it belongs there.

You shut your eyes for a moment and you let Simon move you around as he wants, which he ends up guiding your head to his chest, and his grip loosens some so you don’t feel trapped. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, to catch your bearings; you can hear a faint ringing sound that you didn’t notice before, but you do note it’s slowly fading away, and in fades is Simon’s voice. He’s murmuring praises—and oh, he’s laying against the headboard of your bed frame now, with you laying on his chest. You feel yourself trembling against him, and embarrassment hits you hard. You’re tense—you don’t want to talk about any of it at all, but you know Simon. He will push you until you snap, even if it’s in your best interest to tell him. You reach up and play with a hoodie string of his, listening to his soft breathing. You hesitate for a moment before your lips part. “It was a week after you left.” Simon’s heart skips a beat, which you hear—you vaguely find it amusing, but he’s silent to allow you to continue. One of his hands is on your back, his thumb moving back and forth. “I..” You swallow spit so you don’t croak, as you’re convinced you might sound pathetic. As if Simon would ever think of you that way. “I was walking home from the pub, y’know, the one only just a few blocks away? It was late at night, I think the police said it was around 2 am. I stayed until closing, I was with some of my friends, uh..” You trail off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. Your hand pauses, and Simon senses your state. He begins to rub your back full on, murmuring, “It’s alright. Go on, then.”

You let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I was absolutely wasted, and there was this guy—grabbed me and I tried to get out of his hold, but he ended up fucking stabbing me. Robbed me of my shit.” Your voice cracks and the silence is deafening. Simon feels his heart drop into his stomach. You got stabbed? “Fuckin’ hell.. Why didn’t you call me? Or at least let me know?” Simon’s voice treats carefully, knowing that you’re still freaking out by the way you’re incredibly tense against him. “I know how important your focus is when you’re gone,” You respond, your voice staying quiet as well. You don’t look at Simon’s face because you know that you’ll break once again. You pick at the fabric of his hoodie, seeking comfort in his warmth, despite how you usually aren’t like this with him. “I didn’t want to take your focus because I know you, Simon. You would’ve backed out of whatever you were trying to do to come and help me.” Simon presses his lips into a thin line, staying quiet because you both know that you’re correct. Simon would drop everything to come home to you, to help you. “The guy nicked my lung, was in the hospital for a while.” Simon’s hand stutters for a moment, the smooth pattern of his palm rubbing your back being interrupted from shock. “Jesus—“ Simon hisses, and he can’t help but tug you closer. “You should’ve told me anyway, lovie.”

You sniffle and you rub your face into his hoodie, a muffled noncommittal noise coming from the back of your throat. He doesn’t say anything further, nor do you. Simon lays there with you on top of him, one of his hands caressing your back, the other wrapped around your body, sometimes coming up to rub the back of your neck. You don’t mention the way he doesn’t seem to tell you to move, and he doesn’t mention how touchy you’re being. Simon doesn’t want this moment to end—one where you’re vulnerable and trusting with him, one where you’re alive and well. He can’t help but wonder if he ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell him something? Simon feels simmering, muffled anger in his stomach because you didn’t want to interrupt his work for being stabbed, nicking a vital organ no less—he makes a mental note to sit you down and make you promise to call him if an issue or an injury like that ever arises again. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to push away what would happen if you didn’t do that—if that guy were to come back to try to finish the job and Simon wasn’t here, would you call him? Would you pick up your phone and dial his number? Would you text him? What if you got hurt again—would you call him?—Or would the hospital? He always imagined you’d be getting the call of his death, and not the other way around. Simon swears under his breath for a moment and opens his eyes; he doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He wants to stay in this moment with you—both himself and you alive. He glances down, your tear stained cheeks slowly drying, your eyelids closed. His fingers slide from the nape of your neck to the side, and he presses his fingers against your pulse.

Being here with you—he wants you to trust him, too; like he trusts you. That’s all he wants.

tag: @zzzennin

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Coffee Date

The inside of the cafe was crowded as you peered in through the front window, you doubted there was anywhere to sit inside. You chew the inside of your cheek nervously. You were supposed to meet Simon here for coffee, but it looked like you’d have to take your coffee to go.

“Busy.” A deep voice behind you makes you jump. You turn quickly, nearly stumbling into the window before a large hand wraps around the small of your back, stopping you. Looking up you see Simon, who is staring down at you with those impossibly soft brown eyes. He's wearing a black T-shirt under a leather jacket along with his jeans and boots, and of course his skull patterned mask. Your face feels hot as you realize just how close he’s holding you. Thankfully he seems to notice too and releases his grip on you, taking a small step back as he does. He turns his head, looking into the window. “Could always get a cuppa to go...”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Simon stares at you for a moment, picking up on your nervousness.

“You don’t have to go in,” he offers. “You can wait here while I get the coffees.” You look up at him.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say. “I can go in to order coffee.” Simon doesn’t look quite convinced. Quietly, he reaches out a hand to you beckoning you to take it. 

“Just stay close,” he says softly. With a shyness you didn’t usually feel around him, you reach out, wrapping your fingers around his far larger hand. Simon leads both of you inside the cafe. 

While the two of you wait on line, Simon gently rubs the pad of his thumb over your knuckles, a surprisingly soothing motion that keeps you from thinking about how many people are inside the cafe. You’re looking up at the menu, deciding what to get when he looks around, wondering to himself if the cafe is over its occupancy limit. 

As he’s scanning the crowd, he spots Johnny and Kyle sitting at one of the tables, the two immediately looking away when they realize they’ve been spotted. Simon frowns and steps to put himself between them and you, not wanting you to know your date was being watched. 

At the front of the line, you order your favorite coffee, reaching for your wallet as Simon orders himself a cup of tea. By the time you pull out a few dollars, Simon had already paid for both of you. When your drinks are handed to you, he quickly ushers you outside, shooting a glare towards Johnny, who was craning his neck to watch you two. 

---

“Told you this was a bad idea..” Kyle said, taking a bite of a biscotti he’d treated himself to. He frowned, it wasn’t as good as the ones that came from your bakery. 

“Haud yer wheesht,” Johnny whispered, leaning in his seat. “Where ur they going?”

“Simon saw you.” Kyle pointed half of his biscotti at Johnny. “He’s a big boy, he can handle himself just fine without you.” 

Johnny pouted back at Kyle. He knew Simon could be a little standoffish, he just didn’t want that to ruin the date. Johnny started to stand up from their table. 

“Sit down,” Kyle said sharply. “You’re not getting in the middle of it.”

---

You found yourself walking with Simon in the park, your fingers still intertwined with his. He leads you to a bench, making sure it’s dry before letting you sit. You sip your drink, sighing as it warms you. 

Next to you though, Simon hasn’t touched his tea. He’s just been staring at it since the two of you sat down. You’ve never seen him without his mask on. Even when he came to the bakery for breakfast, he never removed it to eat, he would just take whatever you packed up for him to go.

“Maybe coffee was a bad idea,” you say, only now realizing he might be uncomfortable removing his mask. You start to stand up when Simon stops you.

“Is fine,” he says. He reaches up, pulling down the privacy mask and drinking his tea, his gaze not meeting your’s as he does. The lower half of his face is covered in scars. Dark pink, twisting and raised against his pale skin. You can’t help but stare at first, before looking away. Nervously you sip your drink, letting your thumb brush over the warm cup in your hands. 

When you look away, Simon feels his stomach twist and his jaw clench. This was a mistake. He was disfigured. Why did he think you could ever look at him with anything other than disgust?

As he takes another sip from his cup, he hears voices coming nearer to where you’re sitting. He reaches up to replace his mask, but you stand before he does, turning to put your body between him and the couple walking past, blocking the view of his face from them. He keeps his eyes on his cup, trying hard not to stare at your body, his face growing warm.

“I got this in the bakery.” He hears you say. You have your sleeve rolled up, showing him a dark pink splotch on your forearm. “The donut fryer, spit out some oil. I had just started working there and was a little too close.” The smile you offer him as you sit next to him again is enough to make him melt. 

“Thanks..” he says, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 9

Tonowari x Ronal x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: With her arrival in Awa’atlu, reader seeks to find a sanctuary for her family, one that she may find in two particular individuals

Warnings: Mentions war, Pregnancy, Mean dad

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: thank you for those who have been patient with me! I know i abandoned you all for a bit but here’s chapter 9, i might rewrite it since the first bit seems a bit rushed but let me know what you guys think!

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @mooniequeen @berrybluez @bajadotcom @alwaysinwritersblock @pandoragalora @perfectprofessorloverapricot @lvrcpid @answer-the-sirens @phantomalex14 @neteyamforlife @bat1212 @sadforeversblog @ducks118 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @1800imgay @soushswag @honeybxes @lola-bunn1 @alldaysdreamers @doggodorime @theesexystallion @scarlettwch @annamarieisbae @wallpaintt @zatarias-pandora @daoyus @ambria @simp-erformarvelwomen @simpliheavenli @tojidilfs @automaticwizardnerd @lexasaurs634 @symptoms-of-moonlight @avtprint

@deviismynamewritingismygame @sunrays404 @tsireyassgurl @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-one-daydreamer @yeosxxx @noname2246 @ok-boke @rubyrubyruuu @diosmilkymommers @annaleesworld @jiminsthickthighs @holysaladapricothero @peaches-peach-peach @enochi @thispussyshouldcomew @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kirisimpster @pompompomegranate @stevebuckysdoll @midhito @any-maybe @nyylovestowrite @omnimaki @blueberryfailureclinic @degenweeb @tejas-kris @sadlyitsme-boo-hoo @agustdeeyaa @kthehoeforfictionalmen @himbo-klown @miraxflor @behindthearcane @yanelis-world @jaxe-27 @noahboahsblog @saltedcoffeescotch

The Metkayina pair became good mates for her, they were understanding, loving, protective, everything she had ever hoped for in the past, a dream she once had that now became a reality.

Tonowari hunted for the rarest of pearls outside the reef and crafted pretty necklaces and beaded tops for his new wife, his love was more physical, he enjoyed creating new clothes and loved decorating ___’s hair with small shells and sea glass, his wives only deserved the best after all.

Ronal showed her loved in different ways though, she cooked for the growing family, took care of any wounds, accompanied ___ wherever she went and taught her all she knew about being a Tsahík in hopes that she can learn and become one herself in the future.

Together the three thrived and eventually moved into one large marui with the perfect view of the sunset and sunrise each and every day. The house had much more space for their children too, who were all growing as the years went on, there were even new additions to the family, such as Tsireya, their first daughter and Ronal’s second born.

___ often thought about having more children, but birthing twins, especially in the circumstance she was in, was enough to put her off for a while. But with her new happy family, she continues to ponder what it would be like, she now lives in a more stable environment with mates who adore her and her boys so it was only right for her to think.

“Yawnetu, what is on your mind?”

Tonowari glanced up from the net he was weaving, cocking his head to the side and blinking, usually at this time of the day his wife would be chattering away about what she has been up to while he was hunting, but alas he was met with silence most of the evening. It was obvious something else took up her thoughts, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Snapping her head towards her husband, a purple hue took over ___’s pretty face “I am sorry, what was it you said? I was not paying attention”

Tonowari chuckled and put down the unfinished net, getting on his hands and feet and shuffling quickly next to her, cupping her face. “I know you were not, that is why I asked what you were thinking of” he leaned in and brushed his nose against hers, foreheads connecting.

___’s slightly larger ears twitched at his words, eyes widening, should she tell him?

Just as she was about to open her mouth loud shouting echoed from outside the marui, interrupting the couple peace. Tonowari leaned back and sighed, eyes closing and a hand coming to rub his temple, what could be causing such a racket late into the evening?

As the shouting drew closer it was clear to make out the voices and words, the concern that once appeared in ___’s yellow orbs died down into amusement.

“No! That is mine! I will tell sa’nu!”

“She will agree with me anyway, you must share! It is not fair you get to have this all day!” Two young na’vi scrambled into the hut, bickering and sticking tongues out at each other. One held an akula toy made out of mangrove wood, waving it around like a prize he had won. “Sa’nu! Tell this skxawng to share!”

Syatxì pouted at his greener brother, glaring daggers into bluer eyes, his yellow gaze fell onto his mother who hid a laugh behind her hand, frowning even more at the lack of help. “Mama, tell him off!” he pointed a finger at Ao’nung who stuck his tongue out once more.

“Now why must your mother solve all of your problems?” Tonowari stood up and crossed his arms, analysing his sons who quickly stood to attention. “You two are warriors are you not?”

“Srane!”

“Then you must fight your own battles. Your mother should not be doing so, instead of her looking after you, you must look after her” the boys were fast to nod intently, taking in the words like it was a quest they must complete, and in a way it was. “Warriors do not depend on the fight of others, you must think for yourselves, what would better the situation -“

“Tonowari” Another figure emerged from the entrance to their home, walking inside with the steps of a leader, behind her skipped in another two smaller figures, peaking out between the Tsahìk’s legs. “Must you do this now?” Ronal huffed and placed a few bowls down, squatting by her pile of herbs and sifting through them.

“Ronal, they need to learn”

“And they will, husband” the woman glanced up and offered a small smile, “in due time” she then moved to sit next to her wife, cupping the back of her head as an intimate gesture.

___ patted the space between her legs to offer her daughter a place to sit as the family talked, quickly getting to work adjusting her thick hair “my sons, fighting is not the answer. Sharing is what we do as a family, and Ao’nung, do not call your brother names”

It was Ao’nung’s turn to pout as his counterpart cackled in his face, snatching the akula toy and running away. “Hey!”

Happiness is simple.

That’s what ___ told herself as she watched her boys play, Sylwaì rushing to join in the fun as they soon decided to leave for the waters and explore before dinner.

Her family meant everything to her, she has a home now and has a life with people who appreciate and care for her as much as she does them. “I appreciate you both, I love you in ways i cannot express” she whispered, kissing the top of Tsireya’s head as she jumped up to follow her older brothers who called for her.

“And we love you yawnetu” Tonowari sat on her other side, kissing her shoulder. “You know, you still have not told me what was on your mind earlier, you were thinking very heavily”

“I want another child”

Ronal stopped poking the fire pit that was suspended above the water, inhaling a breath and turning her head to look at her mates with eyes that shined with growing glee. “You do?” her tail started swishing behind her, despite her best efforts to be calm and mellow.

“Srane. Maybe not right now, but at some point, I want children of your blood, and mine”

“It is decided!” The Olo’eyktan jumped and picked ___ up by the thighs, hoisting her up and she squealed, laughing at his joy. “When you are ready, we mate, again, and you will bear our next kin” he rubbed his nose against hers, placing her back on the floor by her feet.

Ronal soon joined and kissed ___’s shoulder sweetly, a small grin on her face “it was about time you said that, I was afraid ‘wari might explode otherwise”

“Ronal!”

Yes, happiness was simple.

It was times like these where Neytiri most thought of her, the beads in her hands resembled the amber of her eyes and the pattern of the bracelet reminded her of her hair.

___ never left her thoughts ever since she left all those years ago. The tsakeram has physically moved on, after her search for the women was left with no progress she decided to pray to Eywa to keep the small family of three safe on their travels to wherever they go and hope for the best. Mentally, Neytiri is sad, her heart still aches and yearns for her lost mate, and if she can turn back time she would, just to change who she was.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake put his bow away, finished with cleaning the exterior and replacing the string, his head turned towards his wife and cocked a brow, noting her silence.

“___”

Jake paused, face turning to look at the ground by his feet, ears going down, just like Neytiri he is haunted by his actions, but he tried to forget about them rather than acknowledge them. He was a brute, a shit ‘mate’ and abandoned his sons before they were even born. It’s thoughts like those that push him to step down from his mighty position as a leader, but the clan needs him, so he stays.

“I have faith that she is safe somewhere” Jake replied, nodding his head to reassure himself. ___ was strong, she would have found somewhere to be.

Neytiri sighed and tied off the bracelet, “and what if she was turned away, for her sons? What if she never found anywhere safe to begin with? what if -“ large hands cupped her face and a nose bumped hers, Jake smiled a little at her rambling, but it was a sad smile, he does not know how to answer those questions, he thinks the same as her deep down.

“The twins were born looking like true na’vi, there is no way they would find out about them without ___ saying so”

The warrior nodded her head, sighing in defeat and kissing her mates cheek, for now she would get on with her other chores, later she will ponder again. It was like a cycle she can never break out of, one that leaves her dreaming dreamless nights and going about her day on autopilot.

“Sa’nok!” Kiri jumped into her mothers lap, rushing to get away from the sticky hands of her brother, Lo’ak, who was chasing her with the intent of throwing tree sap in her hair. “Hide me from him! He will not leave me alone!”

Lo’ak roared and ran up to the pair, squealing when he was picked up and dangled upside down by his father, “Dad! Put me down!” he wriggled and tried to escape the Olo’eyktan’s firm grip.

Jake chucked and continued to gently swing him, “Kehe, what did I tell you about terrorising your sister? you worm”

“Not to do it in front of sa’nok!”

“Hey!” Jake bellowed a laugh as he put his youngest down, catching Neytiri’s judging face aimed straight at him and quickly stopped his laughing, pretending to act serious for the sake of his wife. “Kids will be kids” he shrugged, trying to play the innocent husband with a coy smile.

His wife just huffed, a grin stretching onto her face as she felt a kick in her stomach, hand instantly going to soothe the ache. “Little one wants to join in the fun, it seems”

Kiri gasped as she felt the slight pound on her back, turning to face her mothers bloated stomach and leaning down, smooshing her face against it “I want my sister out, I am tired of being the only true girl, there is only so much me and Lo’ak can talk about”

“Kiri! I am NOT a girl you turd!”

Kiri just ignored her brother in favour of focusing her attention on her new unborn sibling. “How do you know it will be a girl ‘ite?” the youngling shrugged and smiled a little.

“I just have a feeling” she sung. The marui entrance suddenly flapped open with force, another little boy rushing inside, panting slightly.

“Lo’ak! Stop running away from me!” Neteyam went and tackled him, dogpiling onto his younger brother who laughed loudly, the two wrestling for fun. Kiri snorted and rolled her eyes ‘boys’

Jake kneeled next to his mate, kissing the back of her neck and sighing quietly, his family bringing him the comfort he desperately needed, but yet he still feels incomplete. His heart yearned for the missing pieces, his missing sons and his missing mate.

One day he will find them.

A new star appeared in the sky. It was small to the naked eye, almost unnoticeable, but to someone who has studied the stars day in and day out for the past 14 years, it looked out of place, glowing brighter than the others around it, twinkling brighter and brighter as the minutes past.

“Hey” Jake nudged his wife awake from where she laid on his chest, still staring up into space. His distant look urged Neytiri to turn her head up into his line of sight, eyes widening and jaw going slack.

“No, this cannot be” In the far distance, the bright light zoomed down onto Pandora, red hot fire raging down onto the planet with a mission. Everything around the ships caught fire and the flames spread too quickly, the creatures of Pandora screeching and rushing to escape.

Neytiri ran to a higher viewpoint, jumping over logs and dodging yerik who fled in the opposite direction, a cry escaped her lips and she watched her home, once again, fall victim to the humans who once destroyed her planet in a time she thought long had past. The Na’vi crouched and sobbed, feeling the arms of her mate surrounding her who had his ears pinned back, watching the sight of the forest going up in flames.

His nightmares never seemed to end, Jake could only wonder if this was the great sorrow Moat talked about all these years ago.

A year passed from the return of the human race, the humans and na’vi who lived near hells gate moved up to the floating mountains for safety. Always preparing for war, always going to fight.

Spider was squatted over various bowls of blue paint, redoing the stripes that littered all over his body, sticking his tongue out in concentration. Behind him, Kiri worked swiftly and accurately, painting stripes in places he cannot see or reach.

“I still don’t understand why you paint yourself like this”

“I told you, it’s to blend in” Spider turned and faced the much taller girl, looking at the stripes on her body to try and mimic on his own. “When I do this, I look like one of you, the animals respect me more. Plus, I run faster”

“Sure monkey boy. The animals probably don’t want to taste the berries when they eat you” Kiri snorted, dipping her hand in more blue paint and going back to paining his biceps.

“Hey! I am na’vi, just like you” Spider scooped a large glob of paint, although still small compared to the amount Kiri had, and launched it at her face.

“Oop!”

Sudden footsteps interrupted their playful banter, little padding of feet getting closer behind the pair. “Spider! Kiri! The war party has returned! They are back! Come on! Come on!” Tuktirey rushed over and grabbed both of their arms, dragging her sister and friend along to the edge of high camp, watching as banshees shouted as they flew by and landed.

Shouting can be heard by the cliff, the evident voice of their father talking sternly to their brothers, Kirk’s ears went down and she sighed, going behind Neteyam and looking at his evident wounds.

“You spot bogeys! That was your one job! You spot them and you report them, from a distance!” Jake got up to the boys faces, waving his hands like a madman.

“I’m sorry sir, it was my fault” Neteyam lowered his head, disappointed that he let his father down again.

“When are you gonna stop taking the heat from this knucklehead?” Jake glared at him, eyes going to Lo’ak who stood silent, feeling his little sister moving his arms around. “And you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Ma Jake. Your son is bleeding” Neytiri interrupted, eyes concentrated on her husband who was evidently stressed. Her tail curled in slight annoyance, heart pumping from the adrenaline she felt in the fight. Jake looked at his wife and sighed, hand going to his temples.

“Go to your grandmother. Now” As Neytiri took Neteyam by the arm and followed her daughters to her mothers tent, she turned around to observe Lo’ak who was left standing in front of her husband. “You understand what your actions caused?”

“Yes sir”

“You could have gotten your brother killed” Lo’ak’s ears went down, he hated disappointing his father. “No flying for a month. See to every ikran, get them taken care of” and with that Jake stormed off, shaking his head and muttering curses under his breath, the ringing in his ears won’t stop, and unlike Neytiri his heart pumps from fear not adrenaline.

‘I could have lost them’

“Yawnetu” Ronal stalked over to her wife who fed the young ilu in the pen, a deep frown on her face at the news she was about to deliver. “The Omaticaya in the forest, they are at war once again”

___’s ears twitched and pulled back, she knew that the star she saw a year ago was not from any constellation she has memorised since her childhood, she had a feeling that the tawtute have returned, but has been keeping her mind occupied to forget.

Her heart continued to hurt though.

“I know, my love. I worry for my family back home” especially Spider, who she prays to Eywa every night to keep safe. Ronal rested her hands upon her lovers shoulders, sighing deeply, she knows that her wife is hurting inside, but the tsahìk can only offer comfort, not truly in the midst of war yet. Somehow Awa’atlu has stayed away from the tulkun huntings, and she hopes Eywa can keep them safe for a little longer. Sooner or later though she knows that war will be amongst their side of the reef, it was only a matter of time.

Ronal then took her hands off ___’s shoulders and stood straight, “I must continue with my duties today, join me?” the forest na’vi shook her head, she was planning to join some of the women to go into the reef to pick some plants needed for food and healing.

“Not at this moment, I must join some of the divers today” the metkayinan nodded and smiled a little, moving away from the ilu pen to wherever she was needed. ___ went back to throwing fish at the creatures in the sea, giggling when the young ones brushed against her legs. The smile she displayed was hardly genuine, but it was enough to fool outsiders who do not know her well enough.

The woman soon slips out of the water, putting down the empty baskets to be filled later and moved to where she was to meet the other ladies. The day ahead was something that she would soon come to dread, unknownst to her the past she once sought herself leaving would soon come crashing into her life tenfold.

But being unaware for the meantime was bliss.

The ladies were kind to her and the job was easy enough, she finished within a few hours into the morning, deciding to rest by the edge of the reef chatting away with her friends of a few years now. Gossiping about their husbands, as wives do.

‘’Do not get me wrong, I adore my mate, but sometimes he is just so overbearing! Why do I need to take two spears with me when I am outside the reef! I can very much handle myself’’ Tayal huffed, tail slapping the ground in slight annoyance from this mornings hunt. She was a seasoned hunter, extremely skilled and praised by the elders for her work, but her husband was just too cautious.

Sayala rolled her eyes and smiled at her ‘’your mate just looks out for you, if you do not like his actions then it is best to talk to him. I, for one, do not have an overbearing mate but he does snore very loudly when he sleeps. So loud that it wakes me up sometimes! I wish that I had your problem’’ The group laughed, ___ patting her shoulder in pity.

‘’If Tonowari were to ever do that then Ronal would shun him to sleep onto the ocean floor. I am lucky that he does not pose any problems late at night’’ She giggled, catching the interest of some of the ladies.

‘’My Tsahìk! You have two mates, what is that like?’’ The question caught her slightly off guard until she remembered that it is extremely rare for Na’vi to hold more than one lover, even then it is usually preserved for important figures of the clan.

‘’Well, it is normal for me, I have had two mates ever since I came of age, they are wonderful to me and the kids, I am just thankful to Eywa for guiding me here to them’’ ___ rubbed her swollen stomach, thanking the great mother for what has become of her, Tayal hummed, basking in the light that is ___.

But the Na’vi cannot help but wonder, her Tsahìk has become of age long before she joined Awa’atlu and she could not have been mated to her leaders since then, not to mention her two sons who were not of Metkayina blood (although she did not bat an eye at the latter, sometimes women have children without mates). Is ___ hiding something from them? But before she could ponder any longer their conversation was abruptly disrupted.

A horn sounded through the village, reaching far to the Na’vi who sat at the edge of the reef. They all yipped and cried out at the warning signal, abandoning their chores and standing tall from their crouches. ‘Visitors? What could this mean?’

‘’Look! Up there!’’ One of the woman pointed to the sky where ikran glided through the air, on top sitting forest Na’vi shouting to each other in panic, not expecting a horn to greet them as they entered. It alerted the village to the visitors, and while it was inevitable, attention was not something that they wanted to bring towards them for the time being.

___’s breath hitched at the familiar ikran colours, if these are the Na’vi who she thinks they are then- ‘’___ come! We must see who they are’’. But the Omaticayan could only sigh, already knowing the answers to the question her friend seeks guidance for, ikran are unique in their patterns, there are no two banshees who look the same. The two large creatures at the head of the formation could only belong to the Na’vi she once ran away from.

Ao’nung stalked through the crowded beach, coming to the forefront of the commotion with hard eyes, Rotxo trailing behind him. His gaze caught the yellow orbs of the two Sully boys who watched him with slight wonder, having never seen another Na’vi race before the Omaticaya. Inwardly the boy cringed, seeing similarities between his brothers and these…people. This was going to be difficult.

‘’Is that supposed to be a tail?’’ His smaller companion laughed slightly, pointing towards the skinny appendage which curled in anticipation. Ao’nung averted his gaze towards it and scoffed, smirking when the older boy of the two brothers turned his head to look at him. ‘’How are they supposed to swim-‘’

‘’Do not, Rotxo, Ao’nung’’ a sweet voice called out, small hand hitting the back of her brothers heads and blue eyes rolling at their stupidity. They were trying to look intimidating and it was obvious, making fun of these newcomers who looked the exact same as some of their family members. It was rude, and extremely unnecessary, these people are guests here, and as the chiefs daughter, she will show them the kindness that her idiot brothers will not do.

Tsireya noted the absence of her mother and two brothers, being suddenly reminded that their presence would be appreciated, if not for the sake of her people then perhaps the sake of these newcomers. Her head moved to look at one of the boys face to face, dipping down and smiling apologetically. ‘’Hey’’ He tipped his head up and smiled a small smirk, trying his luck with making friends with the people who he would be potentially living with. Friends, or something more?

Tsireya grinned and chuckled at his awkwardness, finding it sweet that despite the predicament they find themselves in, he still shows kindness towards her.

Hoots and shouts alerted the clan that their leaders were in the vicinity, Tsireya’s father landing in the water nearby on his large skimming. He waded out of the water, eyes never leaving the newcomers and raised his brows as he got closer, it was Toruk Makto, whom he met during the great clan meetings.

“I see you, Jake Sully”

“I see you Olo’eyktan”

“Neytiri te Tskaha Mo’at’ite” they formally greeted each other, fingers to their forehead and dipping them in the accustomed manner of their people. ‘’What brings your family to our side of the reef?’’

Jake and his wife shared eye contact briefly, unsure on what to say and afraid of saying the wrong thing, they were tired of travelling, tired of war, they could not go on much longer. ‘’We seek uturu’’

‘’Uturu?‘’ a new voice called out, appealed and confused. Ronal sauntered up to Toruk Makto and sized him up with a glare, moving on to his wife who bowed in respect of the tsahik. Her blue eyes caught the sight of their children and waltzed up to them, moving around them like an akula and inspecting their aura.

‘’Srane, we seek a sanctuary for our family’’ Jake’s tail curled in nervousness, he hasn’t felt this scared since that day he had to prove himself to the Omaticaya, warning them and getting them to believe him when the skypeople were attacking hometree.

‘’We are reef people, you are from the forest, your skills mean nothing to us here’’ Tonowari announced to the family, voice strong and firm. He was wary about their arrival, it was sudden and unexpected. He knew of the war happening overseas, everyone does, but has it become so bad that they seek refuge in another clan?

Jake cringed at the harshness in the leaders gaze, so used to respect from his people back home that he forgets his place in others. His ears picked up the whimpers of his youngest as she clung to his legs, scooting away from Ronal’s piercing gaze and scalding touch. ‘’Their arms are thin’’ her voice rang through the crowd, stopping any chatter, ‘’and their tails are too weak, they will be slow in the water’’ she ignored Kiri’s small outcry when her tail was yanked a little too harshly.

But the Tsahik’s calculating gaze quickly turned to critique and panic once her eyes caught onto the girls hand, she snatched it from where it hung limp and brought it into the air to show her people, ‘’these children.. are not even true Na’vi!’’ She grabbed onto one of the boy’s hand with her free one and raised it too, to show who they truly are, ‘’they have demon blood!’’

Gasps rung out among the Metkayina, not expecting the very aliens to destroy Pandora to come across the sea to their island for sanctuary, hisses vibrated through some of them, hostility in their blue orbs. ‘’Yes we are!’’ Kiri snatched her hand back and glared, subtly moving closer to her mother who narrowed her eyes, not liking the way this woman, clan leader or not, spoke about her children.

Jake felt panic course through him at the judgemental gazes being directed to their small group, this was not going to plan. ‘’Hey..look! Look at this! I was a skyperson but now i am Na’vi! We can adapt, we will adapt right?’’ He showcased his five fingers to the Tsahik who watched his pinky finger poke outwards curiously. Murmurs of small ‘yeah’s’ rung through the Omaticayans as they agreed with him.

‘’My husband was Toruk Makto. He brought the clans to victory against the skypeople’’ Neytiri stepped forward, trying to assert herself. She will not let her family suffer once more just because she was turned away by this disrespectful Na’vi.

Ronal scoffed, glare hardening. Eywa so help her if this outsider continued to scorn her and her position in her own clan, ‘’is this what you call victory? Hiding, among strangers’’ her eyes flicked from Neytiri to her husband and back ‘’it seems Eywa has turned her back on you, chosen one’’

A sharp hiss interrupted her sentence, sharp teeth obstructing Ronal’s vision. On instinct she hissed back, ears flattening to her skull, unaware of the worried look her mate shared with Jake.

Tonowari decided to put an end to this feud before the women fought with spears, ‘’Toruk Makto is a mighty warrior, all Na’vi people know his story. But your people are at war and us Metkayina, we have stayed away from the conflict. We do not want you to bring this fight to us’’

‘’I am done with war’’ Toruk Makto picked Tuktirey up who clung to his neck like a lifeline ‘’I just want to keep my family safe, please’’

‘’Let them stay’’

The crowed parted once more to reveal a dark blue figure emerging from a sea of green, pearls dangling delicately on her heavy figure. ‘’Let them’’ she repeated, eyes darting from Tuktirey to the other children, and then to her mates, ‘’they come from a place of war, ‘wari. That is no place for children to live’’

‘’___’’ Ronal snapped her head towards her wife, tail lashing in anticipation ‘’you do not mean that, look at them. Demons’’. The mentioned woman’s ears lowered and she frowned, opening her mouth to remind her partners of where she came from, where her sons came from, but instead of any words coming out, only a puff of air escaped.

She closed her eyes and huffed, opening them once again and looking up, yellow clashing with blue. ___ stared intently into Ronal’s eyes, hoping to convey the message she so wishes to speak aloud. Luckily, the pair have known each other long enough to be able to understand one another without words, they say that the eyes are the window to the soul.

Ronal conducted a slow blink and pursed her lips, nodding her head, partly in concern to what the future may hold if she let these outsiders in her home. ‘’It is decided’’ Tonowari began, turning to face the crowd and raising his arms to gain the attention of the Metkayina ‘’Toruk Makto and his family will stay, treat them as your brothers and sisters for they do not know the sea, they will be like babies taking their first breath’’

At that Neytiri looked towards the sand, a sudden memory popping into her mind, her ears lowered and frowned, only straightening up when feeling the hand on her shoulder being squeezed. Kiri noted the sudden tenseness in her mother’s posture as soon as this third mate of the chief appeared in front of them, she was as blue and as slim as them, same tail and large ears. The girl recognised the familiar beads and weaving patterns on her clothes, despite the difference in material, this stranger was from the Omaticaya clan.

‘’Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless’’ the large man huffed, turning to make heavy eye contact with Jake, the rider of shadow dropping his youngest onto the ground and smiling in gratitude, patting Tuktirey on her back.

‘’Well what do we say guys? Irayo’’ The Sully’s coreoused, some more enthusiastic than others, Kiri rolling her eyes and sighing. Her father straightened up from his slight kneeling position for his daughter and nodded his head to his new chief, then turning his head to acknowledge his wives with a swallow, afraid of the Tsahik’s each for entirely different reasons.

___’s breath hitched when yellow clashed together, tail curling upright in anticipation, her old mate then nodded to her like he did her husband out of politeness and notably swallowed, averting his eyes back onto the sand, afraid that if he were to look into her eyes any longer he’ll get swallowed into a pit of shame, one that he wont ever crawl out of.

‘’My son Ao’nung’’ Tonowari gestured towards one of his boys who decided to show up, mentally going through the scalding he will carry out later ‘’and daughter Tsireya, will show your children what to do’’

Ao’nung’s ears flattened into his skull, not liking the idea of being buddy-buddy with these weirdos ‘’but sempul-‘’ a large blue hand rose infront of the boys face and he immediately paused his speaking in respect.

‘’It is decided’’

That respect was soon lost.

Ao’nung rolled his eyes and glared at the sand beneath his feet, tempted to kick it out off frustration but not wanting to embarrass himself in front of the people. Luckily, Tsireya felt the anger that radiated off of him and decided to speak up, ‘’come, we will show you our village’’ she waved them over in the direction of their new home, once they acquired their things.

This was going to be a long day.

previous | next

[vonlycaonwife]

May I please have a smexy von lycoan x maid!reader, (fem please) where the new maid is a clutz and gets on Von's nerves on accident. and then one day he loses his composure and decides to 'punish' her and maybe teach her a lesson about proper serving etiquette. please scenario, i would like to hear your thoughts. ;)

I know who you are you sonuva- ANYWAY yeah I can do that.....lord help me

Female reader! Also very ooc!

Warnings: Smut, breeding, face fucking, knotting, dubious consent, unbalanced power dynamics (boss/worker like), severely ooc, partially written before game release

He has just about had it.

A few months ago the agency had just hired a new employee, one that Lycaon had to supervise. She seemed very sweet and excited to do her job, something he enjoyed seeing since those at Victoria Housekeeping Co. must have a good head on their shoulders to do their job.

But then it turned out she was even more of a clutz than Corin, something that's baffled almost everyone.

An often occurrence would be her cleaning something to perfection, only to end up breaking said thing. Another would be her always burning whatever it was she was baking, or adding too much of something. Even during hollow raids she and others end up getting hurt by her own weapon rather than by ethereal. Mainly the only thing she can do is serve tea and even that's a fifty-fifty on if she'll drop the cup in your lap or not. It was astounding how many things went wrong when she was near, though she was always apologetic over every mess up.

And today Lycaon had to scold her once again over the continuous trip ups, though he has not done that yet since the woman was late for their meeting again. 

It was bad enough for him that he had to deal with his own body that was determined to start a rut, but combine that with the fact that the woman that irritated him to no end also had a scent that drove him mad. He usually had better control over himself, but every time something happened that involved her he would have to steel his nerves or otherwise he would go into a full rut. It annoyed him to no end. Though he supposed it was why he was harsher on her than he was on anyone else, as much as he hated to admit. Others had brought it up to him about his behavior, but he would rather be harsher than act like a feral dog. 

"You're late." He huffed once he heard the door open, he turned his eyes to meet the doe like ones of the woman. He held back a growl as her scent entered his nose, quickly placing his hands onto the desk to keep himself from tearing into his uniform. She flinched at his tone, brows pinched in anxiety.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to run here to be on time and...I bumped into someone and caused another mess. I cleaned it up though! So it's no worries!" She reassured, waving her hands around in an attempt to placate his wrath. She tried to smile even when the atmosphere began to grow cold, something that irritated the man even more.

"Another one? How many has that been today?" He asked angrily, his claws just barely scratching into the wood of his desk. Her scent was driving him mad, he had to keep his mind off of it by directing his growing frustrations onto her. 

The woman flinched again, fear rising within her. While she was used to being scolded, this kind of anger aimed towards her was new and frightening. At most the wolf was only ever annoyed or frustrated, but now she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

"It seems you need another lesson." He said, suddenly calm. At least what she thought was calm, but at meeting his eyes once again all she could see was unbridled anger. Along with something else she couldn't discern. As he stood she froze in place, her hands gripping onto her skirt tightly her knuckles almost turned white. The two kept eye contact as the large man walked his way around his desk, ignoring the claw marks, before standing directly in front of the woman. "We've had this conversation so many times, but it seems you're not getting it.”

"I-I'm sorry Sir! I'll do better, I promise!” She begged, straining her neck to look up at him. While she wasn't that short, she always had a hard time not cramping her neck whenever she had to look at Lycaon. She shivered under his gaze, steeling her nerves so she wouldn't step back in fear. While she is able to handle most things, right now it almost felt like she was prey staring into the face of a predator. “Really I will.”

“You say that…” He started, before suddenly growling with a ferocity that terrified her. She suddenly backed up, her mind running over what options she had, before her back ran into the door behind her. She quickly turned around, her flight instincts blaring danger in her head, attempting to open the door before she felt hands slam onto the surface beside her. Frozen in place she could only be aware of her thoughts screaming at her to run, before it all stopped when she felt his breath hit her neck. “And yet you never seem to improve.”

Lycaon can only berate himself as his own body had seemed to be taken over by his instincts. Just the sight of her looking up at him with her wide eyes had made him mad, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be closer to her. Her scent was overriding his sense of smell, the feel of her shaking in fear under him was embarrassingly delicious. He didn't think of himself to be cruel, and yet he relished in her fear. His hands were shaking against the door, claws scratching at the surface while he barely tried to reign in himself.

“Do you even know how much you irritate me? How annoying it is to have to have these talks with you every damn week?” He growled out, his nose brushing against her hair as he spoke. His claws dug deeper into the wooden surface as he tried to keep himself from touching her with them. He knew if he did that he couldn't go back, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together like he barely is at this moment. His sharp ears heard her gasp as the sound of wood splitting rang out. “Do you even know how hard it is to keep myself contained with that smell of yours?”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He brushed his teeth against the skin of her neck, groaning as he heard her whimper in fear. But what also caught his attention was that her scent somehow became even more potent, making him realize something. He slowly released his hands from the wooden surface, giving them a quick glance for any potential splinters, before dropping to his knees. His hands lifted up her skirt, releasing an enormous wave of her scent. He quickly moved his face closer to her, his nose brushing against her core.

“S-Sir!” She yelped, her hands moving to try and move him away before he could realize. But she stopped when he heard him growl, ordering her to stay in place. Understanding he figured out how she was suddenly turned on by the sudden turn of events, she obeyed his order. She stared at the patterns of the wood, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her superior was suddenly sniffing her like a horny animal. Not that she minded too much, as she had developed a small crush on him since gaining her job at the company. 

“Lesson one, speak when spoken to.” He said, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he nudged them to spread apart.

“B-But-”

“Quiet.” He ordered, before pressing his nose against her once more. He could feel his entire body shiver as the woman's scent flooded his senses. His ears could pick up the noises she tried to repress, causing him to huff in amusement. He used one hand to move the thin fabric that separated him from her bare skin aside, making it possible to place his long tongue along her folds.

“Ah! S-Sir wait-”

“I said, be quiet.” He grunted, adding a growl to emphasize his order. He felt her freeze from his tone as he swiped his tongue over her once more. The taste that spread on his tongue was like heaven to him, completely making him forget the world around him as he pushed his face deeper to taste more.

As his tongue entered her, her hands quickly flew to cover her mouth to prevent any noises from escaping. Her forehead leaned against the door as she tried to even out her breathing, her legs began to shake as she felt his tongue reach deeper. She could feel his hands gripping tighten as a way to keep her still, his claws digging into her skin in a way that brought no pain to her. 

Soon she began to feel that familiar coil within her tighten, causing her to grip onto her face harden. She could feel his tongue quicken its pace as her walls constricted, her whole body shook as she felt that coil ready to burst. Only to be met with a sudden emptiness causing her to quickly turn her head around to see him stand up. She wanted to ask why he stopped, before she suddenly was lifted into the air. Squealing at the movement, she wiggled in his grip before she found herself placed onto one of the plush chairs. After blinking a bit to understand what had happened, she looked up to see his piercing red eye staring down back at her.

“Lesson two, all employees must fulfill their tasks with perfect proficiency.” Lycaon barely spoke, adjusting his belt before pushing down his slacks to reveal his hardening member. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in his size, her thighs squeezing together in both mild fear and anticipation. Wordlessly she adjusted herself in the seat and hesitantly wrapped one hand around him, slowly moving it along the shaft. She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but a gentle began to pet her head, making her meet his eyes once more. “Just relax.”

His voice was very gentle, putting her in a shock before she could realize he removed her hand and pressed the head of his cock against her slightly parted lips. She almost jumped at the contact before that hand gripped her hair to keep her in place. The low growl he released was the only warning he would give her. Shivering she widened her opened mouth and slowly gave small licks, earning a hum in approval. Soon she leaned forward, bringing the head into her mouth and sucking. Her hands were gripping onto the skirt of her uniform, knuckles turning white as she tried her best to keep her mouth wide enough to accommodate his size. 

Quickly the thirian took charge and began to move his hips slowly, pushing his length further and further down her throat. As time went on his pace became rougher and faster, causing tears to start welling in her eyes. But she made no complaint, only kept her eyes shut as she focused on breathing through her nose. Embarrassingly she could feel the spot on the cushion seat below her become damp, making her whine against him. Though she could barely hear herself over the growls the man was releasing. Soon she could feel him pulsate against her tongue, but before he could cum, he released himself from her mouth. 

Before she could question anything, she suddenly felt him grab her by the waist and all but slam her onto the desk. But nothing happened, he only stared into her eyes. It’s as if he was hesitant to do anything else, his claws gripping onto with the same intensity as earlier. The two stayed in their fixed position before one finally spoke.

“Do you want this?” The words barely came out of the thirian, more so only able to leave past his lips with his pants.

“W-What?”

“I’m asking if you truly want this, because if this goes further then we can’t go back.” He slowly explains, like he was in a daze.

“Oh…” She blinks, her muddled brain struggling to fully comprehend what he was saying. But once it settled itself within her thoughts did all the muddiness completely disappear. “O-Oh! Y-Yeah I am! I’ve uh…”

Her face flushes as she attempts to get her thoughts in order. “I’ve already…had some feelings for you so…if you don’t-eep!”

His lips slam onto hers, interrupting her words. She lets out a surprised squeal, tensing in his grip, before relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck. She moaned as his tongue explored her mouth, swallowing her noises as he reached one hand to rub circles around her clit. Soon she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, causing her to tense once more.

“Relax.” She could barely hear him say as he slowly thrust himself inside. Her insides almost felt like they were on fire from the sheer intense heat of his length. When he finally completely filled her, tears were running down her face as she tried not to move and adjust. Lycaon trailed soft kisses all over her face as he waited for her to give the go ahead. Soon she began to relax, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Reading her body languages, Lycaon began to move his hips at a slow pace. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on not losing control, the way he could only smell her scent and the fact it was all over him made him almost go insane. The one hand still holding onto the desk tightened around the wood, close to splinting it like what he did with the wall earlier. He had moved his other hand to her clothed waist, keeping her in place as soon began to speed up. Her whines rang out of the room, adding fuel to the fire of his loosening restraint.

As he focused on controlling his instincts, he somehow didn’t notice her fingers settling into the fur at the back of his neck. She gave it a quick pull, not too harsh to pull out any fur, making him groan in pain. He opened his eyes to meet her own, glaring down at her intensely. He leaned down, growling out harsh words of disapproval. But the lustful gleam he saw in her eyes and her whiny begging was what finally drove him to let go. Slamming his hips against hers with wild abandonment, his teeth gently biting at the exposed skin of her neck while his hands grabbed onto her legs to move them on top of his shoulders. 

He was taking it all in, the sound of her moans and high pitch screams, the taste of her sweat and tears on his tongue, and the smell of their scents mingling together along with the growing smell of sex. He even could hear his own groans and growls, though his focus moved quickly to the feeling of his swelling knot enlarging. His instincts were urging him to push it in right this instant, but he had some restraint left to wait. 

Meanwhile she was overwhelmed by his rough pace, tears flowing down her face as she was slammed with wave after wave of pleasure. She could barely think, her mind only focused on the feeling of him filling her to the brim. But soon she could feel that familiar coil within her, tightening at such an alarming rate. Her voice began to break as it reached a higher pitch than her vocal cords were able to handle, her hands clutching onto his fur in search of anything to stabilize herself. She tried to let any words out, but was once more interrupted by him kissing her. She could only moan into his mouth as she felt something bigger push into her. Her eyes widened in shock as his knot was thrusted in, her body tensing and squirming as the rush of pleasure flooded her veins once more. Released from the kiss, she could only whine as her insides were filled with his hot seed.

“Wait.” He said, gently keeping her in place as she squirmed. “Give it a few minutes.”

She nodded in response, having no energy for words. He chuckled at that, amused at her state. Once he was able to remove himself, he shushed her as she whined from the loss. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, as her body finally relaxed after everything. She barely felt him move her to sit back in the chair she had stained, hearing him whisper about returning with cleaning rags and other necessary items. She wasn't able to respond before sleep finally overtook her.

She wasn't able to see the soft he gave her, nor did she even realize he had kissed her forehead. He quickly made himself suitable again before quietly leaving through the door, locking it to make sure no one would walk in on the mess he had to clean up. Though he's sure he would walk into an even bigger mess once the woman wakes up and tries to clean. But he isn't too upset about that fact now.

Since it just means he has an opportunity to teach her another “lesson.”

[angelshadowsinger]

Assistance

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.8k

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: smut, & a lil dosage of fluff at the end

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬:

dirty talk, heavyyy praise kink, oral(f receiving), implied size kink, light breeding kink, creampie, cum play, a little overstim, Az is a fuckin freak, sweeeeet aftercare 💗

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

Azriel hears that no one has ever made you orgasm before, and makes it his mission to show you what you've been missing... again and again.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

y'all this is narstyyyyy nasty... as in, absolute filth. literal prawn. the most detailed smut i have ever written... probably too much detail. be warned.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

“I dunno, I’ve just… never been able to finish when I’m with a guy,” you shrugged, nonchalant.

Mor’s jaw was on the floor, her big brown eyes filled with horror. She gasped, “A man has never made you cum?”

You reached across the wide oak table and slapped her arm roughly. “Would you shut up before every citizen of Velaris hears you??”

It had been quite a while since you’d lost your virginity, and after you’d run through a couple partners, you’d come to accept the fact that a man would never deliver that finishing, white hot ecstasy to you. But the way your friend had said it like such sacrilege made you embarrassed, a flush creeping up your ears.

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’ve never come in general,” you went on a bit too quickly, like you had to explain yourself. “It’s just that if I’m with somebody, and I wanna finish, then I have to… do it myself.”

“Gods,” Mor sat back, finishing the final sip of her— how many was that again?— umpteenth glass of wine. “This is why I prefer women.”

You stifled the laugh that nearly escaped. “I wish I could share that sentiment. Sadly…,” you sighed, “Penis is what does it for me.”

“Apparently not,” Mor whispered under her breath, going to sip more from her cup, but it was already empty.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the open bottle, ready to pour her another— but nothing came out. The two of you blinked at the empty glass, slow to register what that meant exactly.

“Welp. Should we start taking shots, then?” She asked with concerning sincerity.

You were quick to shoot her down. “Um, no thanks. I'd rather not feel like complete death at training in—” you glanced at the clock above the hearth, “six hours.”

Mor’s expression turned sour, as did yours. Six hours was certainly not enough time for your tipsiness to wear off completely, especially since wine had been your choice of poison for the night. “Fucking cauldron. Guess we should call it a night,” she groaned, dragging her pretty hands across her face.

The House cleaned away your glasses and the numerous empty wine bottles and corks that littered the surrounding area. You thanked it, stroking the table briefly as Mor trudged off, wanting to take a minute to yourself and maybe have some tea to relax before bed. You were completely unaware of the shadowy figure that was frozen around the kitchen corner, having heard every word of your secret confession.

Azriel stood in silent contemplation behind the doorway. He did not believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever crock of nonsense others would claim ruled their lives, but… was it not a sign that he had been walking into the kitchen for a late night sweet, only to stumble upon you spilling drunken secrets? It was rare to find anyone else up as late as him, and it would be a lie if he claimed he wandered out of his chambers tonight solely in search of a snack.

The two of you were quite close friends, but there was something more there that neither of you were brave enough to acknowledge. Lingering glances, teasing flirtation that always went a bit too far, the easy back and forth you volleyed with your sarcastic, dry comments. Yes, somehow the shadowsinger had found himself wrapped around your little finger, yet again enamored with a beautiful lady friend who did not return his interest.

Except you did.

Azriel was too blind to know it; too doubtful, too hard on himself to believe you would really want him. But that did not stop him from thinking about you every time he fisted his cock in the long, solitary hours of the night.

Everyone else in the circle could see it plain as day— in fact, Mor was perhaps the most eager proponent of them all. And perhaps she was a bad friend for allowing you to spill that sultry, enticing secret when she was aware that the shadowsinger who loved you now idled within earshot. Perhaps she was even worse for leaving in a hurry, a smirk on her lips and her fingers crossed as she skipped off to her room.

You remained at the large wooden table, unaware that the man who ruled your fantasies was just around the corner. He was silent and still as possible, battling himself with whether he should sneak off and never breathe a word of this, or if he should join you and take the risk. His shadows reported to him from the other corner of the room, informing that you were now sipping tea and looking gorgeous as ever, clad in a tight, sparkly evening dress that you had worn to the club that Mor had taken you to earlier that night.

Azriel stepped out from his hiding place.

You jumped— even with your fae hearing and so many hours spent with your friend, you never adjusted to how sneaky the spymaster could be. He emerged from the darkness of the kitchen, donned in gray sweats that hung low on his hips, exposing a glorious stripe of tanned, hard muscle that you stared at shamelessly. The white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest was criminal, and you had to actively avert your eyes from burning into his visage, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

But Azriel was looking at you, too, taking in how your dress flawlessly hugged your every curve, the expanse of your arms and décolletage that laid bare in the sleeveless, sweetheart ensemble. He noted the matching heels that were kicked haphazardly underneath your seat, the hair now falling from the clip you’d pinned at the beginning of the night, your slightly glazed expression. A small smirk graced his lips.

“Az!” You sighed, a hand on your chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?”

The Illyrian only shrugged, approaching slowly. “How many times do I have to tell you to work on your awareness? Always take note of your surroundings?” He quipped back easily, coming to stand beside you. He was so tall that you had to crane your neck to look up at him, and you motioned for him to take the seat that Mor had vacated only minutes earlier.

You play-scowled as he obliged, only replying once he was sat, his large wings tucking in behind broad shoulders. “And why would I do that, when one of your shadows is always watching for me?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes widened, a faint blush tinging his cheeks. You wished you could commission Feyre to paint that expression— you loved how boyish it made him look, how cute. But he quickly recovered, that measured mask of cool returning to his handsome face. “You should be flattered. They seem to take interest in you.”

“Hmm,” you feigned thought, rolling your eyes to then land on him and bat your lashes, “Just them that are interested?”

The shadowsinger couldn’t contain his grin. Flirting with you was just too easy, and he loved when you looked at him like this, gave him all your attention. It never led anywhere, anyway— so really, it was harmless… right? He chose not to respond, shrugging and taking a sip of the teacup that the House had conjured for him.

You huffed, displeased. Azriel was always the one to cut your flirting short, only entertaining you to the point where you weren’t sure if he was just playing with you or if there was actually some sincerity in his antics. It was fittingly mysterious of him, and undeniably irritating. You decided you weren’t going to have any of that tonight, the remnants of your liquid courage just enough to push you a step further than you would otherwise go.

“Az, tell me—,” you crossed your arms over the table and leaned toward the spymaster who took another sip of tea, nodding for you to go on. It took every ounce of the male’s willpower to not drop his gaze to your cleavage that was now pressed onto the tabletop, squished between your arms. “— Have you ever made a girl come?”

Azriel spit out the hot liquid, wings going rigid behind his back and his scarred fingers clutching the tiny cup in his palm. You examined the fresh line of tea that was sprayed onto the table, slightly amused as the House began to clean it away. But you continued on, determined to get an answer.

“I’ve heard you have a long list of lovers, surely you know how to do it?”

The Illyrian’s cheeks were now a bright red, the most obvious display of emotion you’d ever seen from him. “What—” he stuttered, still shocked that you had really just asked him that. “—Who told you that?”

You frowned, tilting your head in your hands, elbows sliding out further onto the table. “I asked first,” you pouted, taking a sip from your cup.

The male fumbled for words. True, he had heard your conversation with Mor and yes, he did make the choice to come in and sit down with you but never would he have expected you to ask him such a thing, so outright, so brazen.

“…I have,” he finally replied, slightly hiding behind his cup. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so timid; it was endearing.

“But how do you know you really did?” You queried, looking at him curiously. “I mean— girls can fake it, so how do you really know?”

Azriel seemed offended at your insinuation. But he only pursed his lips and said, “My question…?”

You clicked your tongue and answered, “Cassian and his big mouth. And then Rhys with his… And maybe Mor at some point as well.”

His face contorted into a scowl, shadows coming to lick at his shoulders. But he decided to save his revenge for later, instead meeting your inquisitive gaze and deciding that your intention was not to slander him. “I am almost certain that my partners have never faked completion,” was all the explanation he gave.

“But how do you know—”

“Do you fake a lot of orgasms, Y/N?” Azriel shot back, his turn to pose the picture of nonchalance as he leaned on one elbow, hand on his cheek.

Your cheeks burst into flames. “W-What? No— I—”

The shadowsinger smirked at your flustered babbling. He was tempted to poke at you some more but took pity, instead savoring how cute you looked when you were embarrassed. But you couldn’t find the strength to answer, so he went on to fill the silence.

“If a man cannot make you finish, you should move on and find someone who can,” he said calmly, studying your bashful gaze that was now fixed on the table before you.

You sat up, removing your arms from the table so you could cross them over your chest, guarding yourself. It was your choice to enter this conversation but now it was getting a little too real, and your mortification was getting worse by the minute as Azriel’s steady hazel eyes were pinned to your every movement.

“Yeah…,” you agreed. In theory, his advice was all good and well, but there was no way that it would be that easy. “That’s hard to find, though.”

Azriel gauged your expression, wondering if he should admit he heard your earlier confession to Mor. But you seemed so embarrassed, he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable.

“Is there, like, a class you took or something? Maybe you can introduce me to one of your fellow classmates,” you attempted a joke, but the shadowsinger’s gaze only hardened, the corner of his lip twitching in distaste.

Jealousy and possessiveness swirled in his gut, not liking that you had just asked him to set you up— even if you had only meant it as a joke. You were not his, yet your faux request rubbed him the wrong way.

But the slightly hurt look you were giving him now was enough to wipe away any ill emotion that had briefly bloomed. “Just kidding…,” you murmured, fingering the handle of your now-empty tea cup.

Azriel fought to find the words that could navigate him through this strange situation. If only somehow he could reassure you, offer his services, but not ruin your friendship, nor come off creepy.

He took too long, because you rose, excusing yourself, “I think I better get to sleep.” Your cup disappeared and you quietly thanked the house, turning away from the male and heading toward the bedrooms.

The spymaster stood as well, following you down the hall. Both your rooms were at the very end of the walkway, meaning he at least had another minute of your time. His heart beat quickly in his chest, desperate to smooth things over with you, desperate for however much longer he could get with you. “I did not take a class,” he said, matching your pace.

You shot him an inquisitive look over your shoulder.

“One of the marks of a true man is to be able to fully pleasure a lady.”

You laughed, pausing so that you could walk by his side. “So you think of yourself as a true man? What is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel smirked, glad that your disposition seemed a little looser. “It means, I’ve had five hundred years to cultivate my skills.”

“Riiight, with your countless lovers,” you quipped, a little smirk growing on your lips.

A scarred hand pushed you gently, just hard enough to let you know he didn’t appreciate such accusations— even if they held some truth. Those gorgeous hazel eyes rolled as he clicked his tongue, about to shoot something back when you arrived at your door.

You didn’t reach for the handle though, instead turning to look up at him as your back brushed against the sturdy wood of your threshold. “Thanks for all your—,” you blushed, gaze fleeting, “insight.”

Dark brows furrowed at you. You had said it in such a meek little voice, your hands wringing with anxiety. It was easy for him to read your body language, but also, his earlier eavesdropping had cued him in more than you knew. Even though your conversation had made him seem like the one with all the expertise, his heart was slamming wildly against his ribs, tanned cheeks feeling hot. Somehow the spymaster managed to keep his composure and dared to take the leap.

“May I ask why you are so curious all of a sudden, little dove?” He said, a gleam in his gaze. “Would you like for me to prove myself to you?”

You chuckled, shocked, unbelieving. “That joke is deplorable— I think you’ve been spending too much time with Cassian lately. ”

Usually a jab at his brother would make the shadowsinger bark out a laugh, but he remained stoic, looking down at you with profound intensity. The two of you stared at each other, and you found yourself unable to look away. There was always something about Azriel that drew you to him, and in that moment, as he leaned a hand against the door behind you and filled your senses with the scent of cedar and crisp, chilled night…

His gaze flicked down to your lips.

You studied his, the full, soft pink calling to you.

Azriel could barely find the strength to resist kissing you, his face only inches from yours. The sweet, fresh smell of you was so devastatingly strong with such a short distance between you, and the way you were looking at him… he swore he could discern hunger in your beautiful, captivating gaze…

“Do you want that to be a joke, Y/N?” he murmured, warm breath washing over your cheek. The tip of his nose just barely scraped yours, another muscular arm coming to trap the other side of your body so he had you right up against the door with no escape. “I did not intend for it to be, but if that’s what pleases you…”

You looked at him with wide eyes, a shiver running through you. A new scent greeted your nose, and your lips parted as you took it in, your body shamelessly eating up the smell of his growing desire.

The shadowsinger licked his lips, gaze piercing yours as he detected the beginnings of a similar, honeyed scent emitting from you. There was no going back now, he decided. He was closer to you than ever, and he couldn’t pretend he could find satisfaction in you both returning alone to your rooms, not tonight. He dared to caress your jaw, the smooth skin a contrast to the rough texture of his scars.

“It’s your pleasure I seek, always…,” he said, and you held your breath, unblinking as you beheld his astounding beauty up close. “I only aim to please you… will you allow me to?”

Permission— he was asking permission. You could barely think; was he serious? Azriel was not the type to fool about things of such gravity… If this was some cruel joke…

Before you could give it much thought, your mouth was already moving. “Yes,” you breathed, answering him so quietly it was nearly inaudible, “Please, Azriel…”

The Illyrian’s brow twitched and he shuddered. He leaned down lower, lower— big, gentle hands coming to brace the small of your back and the nape of your neck, a thumb slipping along your jaw to point your face up to his… slowly, slow enough to give you the chance to change your mind… You leaned forward, eyelids fluttering shut. Another second went by and then, he kissed you.

Time stopped, and everything else faded away.

His lips pressed against yours and your arms wove around his neck, every place your skin touched exploding with sparks. The smell of him and his desire overwhelmed your senses, your knees weakening as he claimed your mouth with his, pressing you against him harder, hungrier.

You were snug between the door and his broad, powerful body. His hands squeezed at your hips, then slid down to your ass and lifted you effortlessly, your legs securing around his waist. The small friction of your core rubbing against his abs through your clothes was enough to make you gasp for breath.

Azriel seized the opportunity, his tongue coasting into your mouth without caution. The slick muscle wrestled with yours and you pulled at his hair, savoring the quiet moan that spilled onto your lips. You wanted more— to explore more of his skin, discover more of those sounds… Wordlessly the shadowsinger came to the same realization, fumbling with the door handle and tucking the two of you into the privacy of your room.

Your hair fanned out onto the pillows as the male deposited you on your bed, muscled thighs coming to part your legs and settle himself on his forearms above you, lips never leaving yours. It felt unreal to be consumed in the shadowsinger’s kiss, to have his hard body pressed up against yours and your hearts pounding together in harmony.

He felt the same, hardly believing you were really here beneath him, your small hands caressing his arms and his neck, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulders and curling into his thick onyx locks. Finally he tore his mouth from yours, panting, studying your breathless form under him. “You are so gorgeous,” he praised, licking his kiss-bitten lips, hazel eyes ablaze as he examined the valley of your breasts. Before he leaned closer, he whispered, “Your safe word is moonlight, should you want to stop at any time.”

Though you didn’t plan on using it, you appreciated the consideration… and you wondered just what the male had in mind that might require such a precaution. But he captured your attention once more and you murmured his name as he moved to trail his tongue down your jaw and nibble at your throat, slowly making his way to plant open-mouthed kisses on your exposed cleavage. He pawed at the top of your dress, taking his time as he memorized the taste of your skin, tugging the material down. Your breasts spilled out for his eager mouth to immediately greet, soft lips capturing a nipple and his tongue rolling over it while his fingers found the other. Instinctively your hips bucked up against his, pleasure tickling you as he gave all his attention to your chest, grinding his aching cock into the mattress below.

Teeth grazed the sensitive nub and a moan escaped you at full volume, your cheeks burning when a ravenous glint met the shadowsinger’s eye. With just one swift look you knew he would do anything in his power to elicit more of those sounds from you, and your excitement only bloomed further as a hand slid up the slit in your dress, rough fingers raising goosebumps on your now-exposed thigh.

He kept busy as he explored your chest, sucking and kissing the swell of your breasts. The slow trail of his fingers up your thigh had you clenching in anticipation, whining when the digits brushed the lace edge of your dampening panties.

“Az, wait,” you huffed, causing the male to release your breasts, his warm gaze coming to inspect your face. Even though it was an embarrassing admission, for some reason you felt the need to inform him of your predicament. “I um— I’ve never… No one has ever been able to…”

Hazel pierced into you from his lower position on the bed, his broad shoulders steady and wings taut behind his back. He finished your sentence for you, ceasing your struggle, “…make you cum?”

Just hearing him say it made your soul want to leave your body, and you shut your eyes, nodding, wishing you could just skip this part. A gentle hand cupped the corner of your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek with such tenderness that you dared to meet his gaze.

“I’m honored to be the first,” Azriel stated, unwavering as he looked deep into your eyes. His own were peering into you, the gold in his irises seeming to shine even in the dark of the room.

Your mouth opened to protest that he lower his expectations, but his thumb pressed into your parted lips and the words died in your throat. There was sheer determination in the look he was giving you— promise.

“Don’t think,” he whispered, his other hand coming to pull you down the sheets, back flat on the duvet and now squarely underneath his entirety. His toned body dwarfed yours and his ability to maneuver you with such ease made something distinctly female stir deep inside of you. “Just relax and focus on me. Focus on how my hands feel on you, my lips…”

A mewl escaped you as he leaned down to kiss the hollow of your neck, your head turning into the blanket while he left his mark on your throat. Your hips squirmed and his own pressed down in response, the hard length of him reaching for you through his sweats. The heat that resonated there made you dizzy, a fresh wave of desire pulsing through your pussy as he rutted against it.

The Illyrian’s groan rumbled across your skin, and he sank lower, again taking your breast into his mouth, an elbow digging into the mattress to hold himself up and curl a large hand around the back of your waist. The other wandered up your dress again, this time his fingers immediately cupping your core through your soaked underwear.

A string of quiet moans floated from your lips as his fingertips began to map your dripping cunt through the soiled material. The firm press of his digits against your entrance teased you until they wandered up to slowly rub your clit, his teeth grazing at your nipple. You whimpered, face twisting in ecstasy. Already the shadowsinger was making you feel better than anyone else had, and you weren’t even fully undressed.

At the realization, you fisted the cotton of his shirt. He complied instantly, ripping the article off of him with no issue, and you watched as the tattered cloth was swallowed by the shadows that danced at the foot of the bed. You then took in the sight before you, mouth watering at his utterly male form— the tan, lean muscle that tapered from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist, the contours and bulges that made his long hours of training evident, black ink melding perfectly with the straight planes and dipping down under the hem of his sweats.

Your fingers wandered on their own accord to splay across his broad chest, tracing the tattoos that laid there and thumbing over his nipples. That bit a low moan from the male, and he leaned down and captured your lips once more, tongue dominating yours. His hands disappeared behind your back and suddenly the zip down your back was undone, the material slipping down your sides. You helped him free you of the gown, now only clad in your soaked panties, hips squirming as you throbbed with need.

“Azriel,” you whimpered when his lips touched your sex through the cloth, the male taking a deep breath of your honeyed scent, and closing his eyes. His brow pinched as he experimentally licked at you, your thighs twitching as he released a moan of approval.

You gasped when he tore the drenched fabric off of you effortlessly, his teeth bared in a quiet snarl. Then he grabbed your hips and dragged your pussy onto his mouth, tongue spreading your folds and moaning as he savored the taste of you. He dove into you and you cried out in pleasure, his mouth sucking and nibbling on your sensitive core, tongue dragging up and down your seeping slit with fervor.

All of his attention focused on you was making you delirious, your eyes rolling back as you relished the sensations he was causing. His hands tucked under your ass and grappled onto your hips, not allowing you to squirm away from his generous attack. He alternated between gently sucking on your clit, your folds… then washing the sensitive bud with the flat of his tongue, laving over you wave after wave.

You were clenching, your hole leaking more and more as your body begged for some kind of relief. Utter want throbbed through you as scarred fingers slowly made their way toward your core. All remnants of thought left your skull at the press of rough digits at your entrance. There was nothing you could say or do as a finger slid inside of you, nothing but stretch around him and keen, gasp for breath. Before you could even moan, a second pushed in and disappeared knuckle-deep, right beside the first. The foreign stretch made your thighs tremble around his face, his nose nudging your clit as he continued his ministrations with his tongue.

His name became a prayer on your lips, a chant as those blessed digits curled and his knuckles scraped parts of you whose existence you had not known before. Slick was pouring down your thighs now, the steady, rough friction of his scars rubbing so deliciously along your gummy walls. You forgot any worries you had harbored, left them far behind as Azriel brought you closer and closer to the edge.

At some point you started begging, actually begging— you couldn’t help how good the shadowsinger was making you feel, couldn’t think to filter the words mixing with your ragged breaths.

Azriel only trekked on, mouth earnestly working in sync with his hand, examining the furrow of your brow, the part of your lips, the roll of your eyes back into your skull. Only then did he speak, mouth popping off of you just long enough to encourage you as you circled the drain.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, the words vibrating through your cunt, tongue lashing against your folds between his praises. “I can feel your tight little pussy clamping down on me, I know you wanna cum…”

You could only whine and latch onto his shoulders as you hurtled toward that line no partner had ever been able to push you to, at full speed now that the shadowsinger was egging you on, pure filth falling from his lips.

“You can do it baby,” he purred, pressing another kiss to your clit, a brush of tongue following in its wake. “You’re gonna make me so proud, I swear my little dove, you’re right there… Come on pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my tongue.”

The tension in your belly heightened and you gasped, your body tensing under his firm grip and your back arching, teetering on the edge. And then you were cumming, your core gripping onto his fingers and pulsing, your head thrown back onto the sheets as you let out a long, sultry moan.

Azriel’s cock throbbed at the sound, his curiosity peaking as he wondered how your pussy would feel milking his cock like that, so tight and wet for him.

Your body was humming with bliss, fingernails embedded in the sheets beside your hips, your breath ragged and sweat glistening at your forehead. You’d only cum that hard a handful of times before, and it had taken a hell of a lot longer for you to get yourself to that point.

The Illyrian’s pace slowed, his fingers and his tongue still moving just enough to let you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you. He continued to kiss your clit softly— even as his patience was wearing thin, his length crying for you, trapped tightly, painfully, beneath his pants.

His fingers finally fell from your entrance and he inspected the glossy sheen on them before he stuck them in his mouth. You watched as his tongue ran over every inch, savoring the taste of your cum. He pressed one final kiss to your clit and sat up, the tent in his pants more prevalent than before.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Azriel praised, a hand skimming down your thigh. His gaze was warm as he made eye contact, but the movement of his hand landing on his cock pulled your eyes from his.

You watched, still breathless as he firmly gripped his length through his sweats, a low sigh falling from his lips. He looked absolutely criminal touching himself like that, the shine of your cum still on his lips and his muscled torso heaving as he caught his breath.

All thought left your brain as his thumbs hooked the hem of his pants, dipping lower until you could see the base of his dark… thick cock. He pushed his pants down fully and your cunt clenched as his fully erect member slapped hard against his navel. The tip was the most beautiful shade of pink you’d ever seen, and your mouth dried as you examined the trail of glistening pre that dripped down the side. He fisted the base of himself, the wide vein running along the underside flexing as he twitched for you, eying the apex between your legs and your shared desire.

“See how hard you make me?” he said, a sinister glint in his gaze pinning you to the mattress. Both of you were fully naked now, and the sight of him approaching you, those big, ominous wings billowing with shadows behind him… he looked like a god, one that was about to completely decimate you. “See how much I ache for you? You completely own me, fuck… now that I’ve had a taste of that pretty little cunt, I’m yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was unclear whether this was just dirty talk, or if he really meant that, but in the heat of the moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words were sincere.

He crawled toward you, completely predator as he neared. Heat rolled off his bronze skin, his member reaching for you, wings shuddering in anticipation. “These lips are yours…” he murmured, mouth grazing over yours. You closed your eyes, your arm reaching around his head, fingers carding through his soft hair. “These hands are yours…” His scars skimmed down the curve of your side, tingles echoing in their wake. “This cock, it’s yours…” you gasped as his hot tip sliced through your folds, tracing down your slit with ease from the orgasm he had just gifted you.

You moaned, hips lifting and your sex sliding along the length of him, coating him in your essence. He groaned at the sight, his breath mingling with yours as he panted, watching your most intimate parts slide against each other, your love juices mixing.

“Please, Az,” you cried. You’d never been more turned on in your life, the very tip of him nudging against your hole, the promise of pleasure so close you could taste it.

The shadowsinger could barely hold himself back, but he needed to hear you say it. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded, grit in his harsh tone as he began to lose his manners.

“I want you to fuck me,” you replied instantly, inhibitions thrown to the wind. “Please, please— I need you to fuck me, make me cum with your cock, please Az—”

Whatever semblance of restraint the Illyrian had was lost then, his lips pulling back in a desperate snarl. The sound had your legs spreading, your body feeling fuzzy with the overwhelming urge to be filled by him, taken and claimed by him.

Your body sang as he speared the tip inside of you, your cunt stretching around the sizable girth of him. A whimper fell from the male as he lowered his hips, half his cock disappearing into your tight, wet heat. It felt like he was heaven incarnate inside of you, your eyes rolling back and your legs parting wider around his hips, welcoming him deeper inside of you.

Azriel obliged, his balls slapping the wet backside of your thighs as he surged forward. The moan that fell from both your lips was pure sin, your bodies exploding in pleasure as they connected in the deepest, most intimate way, him fully seated inside of you.

Slowly he started to thrust, hips almost shaking at the all-consuming pleasure that was washing over him. He was already fighting his orgasm as he began to find his pace, the moans he was summoning from you urging him to press deeper, harder.

Again and again his hips slapped into yours, burying that impressive length deep within you. The depths he reached made your eyes cross, your pussy squeezing down on him, and your mouth drying from the constant panting he had you victim to.

He was growling into your ear, sweat sticking his hot chest to yours as he exerted himself. The sounds that tumbled from him only made your slickness grow, a wet patch forming beneath your ass as he started slamming into you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock inside of you,” Azriel crooned, his face falling so that the bridge of his strong nose skimmed your cheek. It made his breath fall on the crest of your ear, rendering you privy to all the low, delicious noises that slithered out of his mouth. “M’gonna take good care of you, promise…”

Suddenly he pulled out and you wailed at the loss, but he was already flipping you over before you could register what had happened. He yanked you onto your knees, landing a quick slap on your ass before he nudged your legs apart and pushed himself into the new space. His cock dipped into your folds from behind and he loosed a delectable moan as he slid all the way back inside.

From this angle, the tip of him prodded a sacred, uncharted spot that had you shaking, arching your ass onto him and your back bowing in submission. The place he was reaching at the end of your inner walls made you weak, the hard length of him too euphoric for you to handle. He gave a tentative thrust, a hand coming to fist the hair by your scalp, the other weaving around you to tweak a pebbled nipple between his fingers. You sobbed at the newfound intensity, your stomach knotting and your hips sliding back on their own accord, once again seating yourself at the base of his cock.

“You like having me all the way inside, hmm?” he gasped, thrusting deep and hard, the clench of your cunt almost tempting his load straight out of his aching balls.

You gasped an affirmative, each thrust making stars dance on the back of your eyelids. “Yes, ah— yes, deeper— Az!” It must have been your g-spot he was ramming into because you could barely sit upright now, your body nearly collapsing in pure pleasure. “There, oh please right there!”

Azriel’s hand at your chest dove down, a large palm landing right above your womb, right where his cock nestled inside your throbbing cunt. “Here, baby?” He gave a few more thrusts, the very tips of his fingers nudging your engorged clit. “Feel my cock right here, dove? I’m right here inside you, fuck—“

You cried as he continued, ruthlessly pounding into you, the hand in your hair pulling your head back so he could manipulate your body and bend you into the perfect angle to continue hitting that spot.

Again you were rushing toward completion, completely stupefied by the shadowsinger rearranging your guts from behind. The pleasure was too intense— with each thrust his huge, thick cock stretched you to the brim and dragged against that delicious spot deep inside. Sweat dripped down both your bodies, heat and the lewd slap of his wet front against your ass filling the room again and again. His name became the only word you knew, a raspy chant as he brought you closer, closer—

You came with a silent cry, pussy pulling tight and fluttering down onto his hard cock. This orgasm was even stronger than the last, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as his thrusts slowed, the intensity of your throbbing too great for him to continue his quick pace. Rough fingertips continued to circle your clit, drawing out your euphoria as you slumped into his strong chest, trembling with pleasure.

The Illyrian was fighting every inch of himself not to cum right then, blood tanging on his tongue as he bit the inside of his cheek. He refused to violate your perfect womb with his seed, even if every fiber of his being was screaming with the need to claim you as his. But he would not relent to his desires, not without your permission. And he didn’t want to finish yet, not when this was the highest he had ever felt, sheathed inside your ethereal body. So he clutched onto you and channeled all of himself into supporting your weary frame, rubbing your clit as you floated back to earth.

Once you had ceased twitching, Azriel laid your back onto the sheets again, joining you on his side, adjacent to you. You were still panting as you came back to reality, examining his mussed hair and how it clung to his damp forehead, the flecks of pure gold in his hazel irises, his slick, still-hard cock— a ring of your cream adorning the base of him.

Wordlessly you wiggled closer and kissed him. He moaned in surprise, either at how soft and sweet your kiss was, or at the touch of your small hand wrapping around his aching length. You jerked him slowly, the sound of it absolutely obscene, your thumb grazing over the weeping head where precum had once again begun dripping out. Your back pressed up flush against his chest, guiding his cock to your center and slipping the head into your slit, hips pushing into his.

The shadowsinger’s vulgar moan rung out as your warmth surrounded him again, your nails scraping his scalp. An arm slipped beneath your waist, his grip securing on the opposite hip and fully penetrating you once more. This position had your pussy tighter than before, and his chest shook as he tried to breathe normally, trying to fend off his orgasm. His finger slipped to the back of your head again, this time much gentler than before, just to turn your face and peer into your soul.

Azriel couldn’t find it in himself to thrust, just savoring how your bodies were completely intertwined like this, feeling absolutely one with you and staring deep into your gaze. But you wanted him to cum— needed it, pressing your ass flush onto his hips and clenching tight. The male’s broken growl was his only reply, words failing him. It was he who had planned to drown you in pleasure; he had not been prepared for how incredible you would truly feel, how whole he felt when he was inside of you.

You reached down and cupped his balls, feeling how tight and heavy they were with his seed. Azriel’s teeth grazed your lip at the movement, his body starting to shake with the need to release everything he had deep within you.

“Y/N,” he choked out, hips starting to press tentatively to yours on their own volition.

You studied the desperation on his handsome face, the shake in his thighs at each slow thrust, the dull fingernails that dug into your skin as he clung to you. “Azriel,” you moaned, he was reaching that spot again and rutting into it so slow, hard and precise… you could hardly think as pleasure filled your brain with fog once again. “Please… Need you to cum inside of me.”

Azriel groaned, tongue wrestling with yours and conceding as he began to lose himself in you. His thrusts became slower, sloppier, so you hooked your leg around his and began to arch back into him. The Illyrian began panting, fingers grappling onto your hips.

“This cock is mine,” you purred, repeating his earlier words, your ass slapping back against him harder.

His fingertips were blanching, the sight of his wet length sliding in and out of you from behind as you fucked yourself onto him mesmerizing.

“This cum is mine, too,” you squeezed his balls again and he let out a loud whimper, his orgasm surging forth as he started to meet your thrusts. “Give it to me, fill me up with your cum— fuck Az, need it deep inside me, please.”

He snapped, suddenly hard and fast and deep, a few more snaps of his hips that had you crying for him until— The most pornographic moan sounded for him and he pushed every inch of himself inside of you. His wings fluttered, thighs shaking as he gripped onto you and smushed you into the mattress under his weight. Warmth filled your belly as hot waves of cum spurted deep into your womb, his cock throbbing as you pulsed around him, milking every drop you could get. Sharp teeth lodged into your neck as he emptied himself inside of you, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself up as to not crush you completely.

Sweat dripped from his breathless form onto your back, and you laid there blissfully as you caught your breath. The sheets beneath you were completely ruined, drenched in sweat and slick and cum, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care; not when Azriel was naked on top of you, cock sheathed all the way in and his cum spilled deep in your womb.

After a minute, the shadowsinger’s dark chuckle sounded from above you, his fingers tracing down your spine. “Naughty little thing,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear before he laid a kiss there.

You smirked, squeezing onto his cock that was still inside of you, retorting “You like it. You like me~”

He growled lowly, nipping you with his teeth. But he nuzzled you then and your heart melted, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he said, “I do. Very much, in fact.”

You whined as he pulled out of you, the loss of him much too noticeable for comfort. But he was right there, turning you onto your back with care, pressing soft kisses into every inch of your sweat-slicked skin. You could feel his release seeping out, the sheer amount of it too great to stay tucked inside where you so desperately wanted it to be.

Azriel gently pulled your legs apart, inspecting the slow stream of creamy white that trickled out of your raw entrance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to last long enough for you to cum again,” he said, a thumb running down your soaked folds, “I know you were getting there…” He licked his lips as you clenched under his heated gaze, embarrassed that he was outright admiring your most intimate part. Was he seriously apologizing for not giving you a third orgasm? “Allow me to make it up to you, angel.”

The male leaned down and pressed a kiss to each thigh, sliding back onto the foot of the bed and pulling you with him. You shot him an incredulous look as he settled between your legs, lips just inches from your soiled cunt. There was no way he was really about to do this— the mix of your cum with his was spread wide, coating your inner thighs, your pussy, your ass.

His tongue was like lava as he licked at you experimentally, eyes taking note of the shock apparent in your expression. Hazel glinted at you as he began to make out with your ruined center, his seed dripping from you as he made you clench. But he didn’t seem to mind the taste of himself, for he closed his eyes and traced his tongue down to your messy hole, petting you unabashedly, happily, even.

You didn’t think he could get any hotter. But this… this was outright perverted. Your core felt aflame at the sight, his pure enjoyment as he devoured the mixture of your cum like it was the most sacred delicacy. It had you moaning, legs trembling around his head, clit throbbing as he kissed and sucked at the poor bud.

Deft fingers brushed your core and were immediately coated in that same mixture, slick pouring from you as the shadowsinger continued his depraved quest. Two entered you with no warning and your back bowed, the digits instantly searching for that sweet spot as they pushed through the river of his release. A third joined and you released a garbled sob as they found their target.

Azriel, ever the observant one, took note and pummeled the spot relentlessly, knuckles curling as they slid in so they achieved full stimulation. His tongue was flat against your clit, licking you back and forth, and you were so sensitive from your previous orgasms that tears dotted the side of your eyes, your breathing ragged.

“Az, oh Gods— I—,” you mewled, hips squirming as the pleasure became too much. “Please, I can’t, it’s too much!”

But the Illyrian did not stop, would not stop unless he heard your safe word, his fingers picked up speed. “Come on baby, one more. Just one more,” the words vibrated through your cunt as he held you down, palm flat atop your tummy and pressing your sweet spot down so that it was even more vulnerable to his attack. “Trust me, it’s gonna feel so good angel, I swear.” His lips took hold of your abused pearl and he ravished you, his cum squelching as his fingers drove into you without reprieve.

Pressure gathered deep in your core and you whimpered, the intensity of your pleasure so great it was almost painful. You were close— so close to something big, you could feel that it was different from before with the way your cunt leaked and throbbed, the way your entire core felt on fire.

“Please—” you gasped, not even sure what you were pleading for, “Fuck Azriel, please, yes—!”

You screamed as you came, white-hot ecstasy imploding from your center. You nearly lost consciousness, your eyes crossed with utter bliss as liquid sprayed out of you and onto the shadowsinger’s chest. His chin, his torso, your thighs, and sheets, all of it was drenched as you couldn’t stop the squirt from pouring out of you. Fast fingers replaced his mouth and continued rubbing your clit, only slowing once you had ceased squirting.

Your entire body was shaking, toes curled into the filthy sheets, your brain trying to catch up but it was a mile behind your body.

“I’m— Az, I,” you stuttered, attempting to sit up, shock and shame taking root in your chest. The male was completely drenched from the chin down, the sheets beyond salvation. “I never— I’m sorry—“

A towel appeared from his shadows, and he swiftly wiped himself dry before he joined you on the bed, uncaring of the huge damp spot that now lay beneath you two. He shushed you with a kiss, taking your trembling form into his arms, a hand tucking your hair behind your shoulder. His lips were soft, his touch gentle as he tucked you against his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am so proud of you,” he said quietly, his low voice rumbling in your ear, “You did so well, little dove. Now let me clean you up.” His praise sent a pleasant warmth through your bones, and you curled closer to the male, basking in his embrace.

Secured in his arms, his shadows enveloped the pair of you in darkness, their cool caress whispering on your skin. Then, you were hovering over a large marble bath, steam wafting from the filled basin that Azriel was standing in the middle of. Slowly he lowered the pair of you into the water, holding you tighter when you squeaked at the heat from the water leaching into your tender core. He sat behind you, wings stretched over the lip of the tub, your chest against his back.

Wordlessly he tied your hair back and ran a damp cloth over your skin. You were still coming down from your high, the warmth from the water and the strong male at your back making your eyelids droop, exhaustion ebbing into your body. He held you up and washed your back and then his front, and when you leaned back against him, you somehow found the strength to smirk at the erection evident behind you. You scooted back to brush your ass against him and he growled lowly in your ear. The sound sent shivers through you, and you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, humming in content. The Illyrian kissed the top of your head, large hands supporting your weight as he lifted you from the water. The soft brush of a towel met your skin and his quiet laugh graced your ears when you refused to separate from him, your wet front clinging to his. Eventually he was able to pry you off of him so that he could fully dry you, but it took many kisses of encouragement and gentle praise.

Finally he placed you onto his bed, the silken sheets welcoming your clean, naked skin and flooding your senses with his strong, woodsy scent. Azriel slipped in beside you, his inked arms wrapping around you as he laid on his side, nose tucked into your hair, covering you under the blankets.

“So, did you fake it?” he whispered in your ear just as sleep was about to take you. He had clearly proven himself, teasing you now that you had experienced his full talents.

You swatted him with what little strength you had left, a lazy smile curling the corner of your mouth. “You’re deplorable,” you said and he laughed, gathering you closer to his chest.

You didn’t know what this night would mean moving forward, but you didn’t have the energy to care at the moment— completely drained from the earth-shattering orgasms the shadowsinger had summoned from you. You had the feeling he didn’t want to question it now, either, not as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, not when he had you naked, in his arms, in his bed. So you succumbed to slumber, content to leave the questions for the morning, your heart full and your body completely sated for the first time in your life.

⤷ masterlist

[shuenkio]

Naughty neighbor | Sim. J 😈

Paring: Stalker!Jake x male!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+ [don't like don't press]

Cw: cum inside, rough, dirty talk, swearing, obsession behavior, bad .

Summary: Your lovely neighbors who you thought of as a golden retriever but turn out he's a stalker.

Non proof read/ wc: 1.6k

Eng is not my 1st lang.

A|N: I accidentally wrote it smut oops | @ddeonuswhre special thanks to you for the idea 🐱💡hope you're having a great time pookie.

[Ignore my edit, it's suck]

Moving to another home, just because of your workplace, was exhausting. However, when one of your co-workers, who is also your friend, told you that this neighborhood was full of hot guys and friendly people, as a result, you immediately moved in without hesitation.

Not to mention, it's better to stay here for a while. The scenario, the weather—it was pretty good for your own mental health as an office siren. At least you can enjoy the view while stressing your brain off. By your own pure luck, you were able to get a month of vacation off since you're the best employee of the month and the summer season is approaching.

Your boss probably won a lottery ticket; that's why they don't care if you're still working. Nevertheless, beside your tiny, little house, there's a guy next to you.

He seems like a fun guy, to be honest, at first glance. His face shape screams so much that he's an Australian citizen. Well, maybe you're in Australia right now? His smile, however, always did something to you, even if it was a greeting gesture.

He looks gentle and kind; his aura exudes the energy of a golden retriever. From your point of view, whenever you saw him, he was kind to the other neighbors. And his name is Jake. Your friends didn't lie about what they'd said about this vicinity.

Unbeknownst to you, all the scenes you saw in him were just his fake acting. Jake did all those corny things just because he wanted to get the attention of you, whom he'd had eyes on ever since you moved in. He thought that, never in his life, he had seen such a person as you. You look really soft and sweet, like fresh vanilla in your aura.

You're also an adorable little guy who's brave enough to live by himself in a small place beside him like this. He always wants to take your virginity away from you.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow. Birds chirped softly, and the fresh scent of dew filled the air.

It's 8 a.m., and you're waking up to start off your day by watering your flower garden in front of your backyard.

As you hold your watering can, splashing wet on your beautiful plants, you see Jake is also in his front yard, while he's stretching from the back pain you're assuming.

Being the good neighbor you are, you greet him with a small talk, asking about this and that until you invite him for tea.. At first, Jake denied it, but you're insisted. Yet deep down, he had been waiting for this moment forever.

You then prepare for the table before serving him the tea that you had brought from your home town.

"So Jake? What are you doing for a living?" You said, putting down your cup as you focused on him.

"Not much of the higher-paying job; I'm just the owner of a small coffee shop down the road, and you?" He responded, taking a small sip as he clicked his tongue as a sign of taste.

"I'm working as a manager in the management of marketing; it's doing some justice for my life, but it's also burning keke." You reply with a sly smile along with your chuckle. I found it somehow funny that you're the manager now.

"You look like you're not an Australian m/n; I have never had time to ask about you this." Jake mutters, folding his fingers together, while observing your face while you're not paying attention.

"Yes, I'm not; I'm from ///, and I see it's rare to find my people here."

"That's why you look handsome; I mean it." Jake snorts in polite manners as you laugh along to hide your face. Which makes you want to stay here longer just to chitchat with Jake.

Suddenly, you heard your phone ring inside your house before you excused yourself to pick up the call. As perfect timing as he planned to, a dark smirk appeared on his face. As he puts something in your cup of tea, pick up the spoon on the table and mix it up. A few minutes later, you came back as you settled yourself in your seat again. You ask him if he's bored, but he says it's nothing.

The moment of silence suddenly awkward the scenes as you obliviously take a sip with your drink till your cup is empty.

Out of nowhere, you feel a pang inside your skull as you feel like there's a drum inside your brain. Keep hitting on you.

It's hurtful and dizzy at the same time. Aside from having a sudden headache, you also experience the hotness of sweat leaking out of your skin.

It's getting hot unexpectedly, as if you just got chased by a bear. Trying to hide your unstable condition, you stand up to get yourself a glass of water.

Due to the aphrodisiac kick, you fall down to the wooden floor. Jake still put on his mask as he expressed his concerns to you, asking if you're okay.

Before he pulls you up, taking you inside to your bedroom, he locks the door behind him. Jake put you down on your bed, gently, as he took off your socks and tucked away, according to your request.

"I'm so sorry, Jake, for the trouble. I don't know why I'm feeling so hot all at once" You mumble in your stuttering, low tone. Hot sweat is still dripping down on your forehead and everything. It feels weird, but that's not the only place that's hot.

You feel like your boxer is tightening from your hard dick. A scowl creased Jake's forehead, deepening the lines around his mouth. His brows furrowed, casting shadows over his eyes, filling them with excitement.

He couldn't wait any longer to show his true colors as your creepy stalker. Jake has had eyes on you ever since you're moving in; it's like a love at first sign to say, but it's in a sexual way.

At night, while you're asleep, he sneakily installs many hidden small cameras in every corner of your house, including the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. Every move he made got you wrapped around his finger.

There's no privacy for you to have your time, chilling in your bed thinking you're alone, but deep down, your golden retriever neighbors enjoy the views of your face every single day. Even when you're in the shower, Jake would be sitting in front of his computer, fantasizing about all the nasty things with you.

He masturbates and touches himself from time to time when he feels like working up or missing you. For now, the plan that he has been working on is finally taking shape. He won't let it slip away and lose this perfect opportunity to have you, screaming his name, ruining your virginity.

Nonetheless, Jake's eyebrows shot up in astonishment as you begged for him to help you.

"J-J...ake, please help me take this hotness away; I feel like I'm dying." You said it half-conscious, rubbing your hand on your chest, feeling like fuel was burning on the inside of you.

"Don't worry, ma'boy, I'm going to make you feel at ease once I do my magic." Jake leans down to your earlobe, whispering. Before he tears up your clothes, drop them to the floor as he begins to strip himself while kneeling on your bed.

His cock was spring-free, standing so proud as he exposed his naked self in front of you. You were so fuck up that you want nothing but to erase those fires in your body; your body language is inviting him itself at this point.

"I won't stop just so you know, m/n, I'm going to make you can't walk once I'm inside—I'm going to fuck the life out of you till you beg for it, my dearest." The next thing you know, you feel a huge meat enter your entrance, spreading you in an instant without him warning you.

Results in a sign of pleasure, leaving your mouth open. A shockwave was sent to Jake's body, and he grunted loudly at the sensation. Making him buck up his hip, craving more pleasure. Before thrusting his cock in, as deep as he can at his first attempt.

"Holy, fucking shit, m/n, you feel like heaven, nrghh, let me have you more." Jake moans desperately, biting his plump lip to take pleasure once again. His cock continues to throb inside of you; your walls are clenching on him so tight that his hips are moving in and out unstoppably, fucking you roughly as a response to your body language.

"Jake, I think I'm going to squirt, ahh."

"Why not m/n~ *moaning* shot on me? I don't fucking care if it's dirty; just let me fuck you." Jake is shouting loudly at your statement, leaning down his lip to capture you, pulling you into a French kiss as his hip is still moving inside you.

"Let me fill you in, yeah? I think I'm coming. *huff huff* You let me hah?" Jake said in demand, and his orgasm started to build inside of him. You got the best of yourself, unable to decline his request as you braced yourself to welcome his request.

"ERG" Last but not least, Jake felt his cock twitching, growing hard as a metal between your stretching wall, as he exploding in your anal, filling you with his big load of a warm oragsm. In unison, you're also cumming to his sensation of him, hitting your sweet spot at the final thrust, which makes you shoot out uncontrollably.

Jake collapsed on your body, being too sensitive to the shockwave he had experienced earlier. Stop moving his hip as he sucking for oxygen sharply.

"T... thanks you, Jake; I feel a little better."

"We can do this all day, 7 days a week, to make you feel better every day, ma boy, haha. For now, let's consider our relationship  together."

"How about fuck, buddy?"

"No, I want all of you M/N" 

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ I know there's indeed a mistake in this, sorry in advance 🫶. Improve how to write better.

I REPEAT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, NOTHING IS REFLECT TO THE REAL LIFE EVENT.