#it's only been a year but my soul feels like it's been longer

[goddess-of-green]

BotW Link Being a Quiet (and Sleepy) Drunk

(A/N:) Playing TotK and immediately my soul is being recaptured by Linky Winky

(Edit:) This draft is almost a year old! I started it the day TotK came out, lol

Contains: GN!Reader, could be interpreted as either botw or totk link, him being CUTE

Word Count: 474

Link's face pressed into the crook of your neck, having migrated a bit since he'd put his head on your shoulder earlier in the evening.

You smiled and lightly stroked his hair, which earned you a hum--the vibrations of which you could feel in your neck.

It wasn't like Link wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly affectionate when he's certain it's not unwanted. However, even with your constant prompting and encouragement for him to be more open with his displays of affection, he still always kept a respectful distance when you were around others.

You didn't take it personally, you knew it was just the way he was; and a part of you liked that his affection was reserved for just the two of you--that you were the only one who got to see him like that.

Still, that wasn't to say that you didn't like when Link was more open about his love for you, which was something often brought out by inebriation.

He's a quiet drunk, just as he is sober, and one might not think he's affected much at all by the alcohol, but you can tell.

You can see how his eyes linger on you for longer than usual, notice the clinginess that usually comes with him being in that state. And one thing that you loved was how he became more vocal.

Yes, he was a quiet drunk, but less quiet than when he is sober; and you relish in his soft sighs and hums as he nuzzles into your neck, unbothered by the presence of the others.

Zelda smiled at the sight of you two, but the others didn't seem to take notice. Sidon and Yunobo were in deep conversation, while Riju was idly talking about jewelry to Zelda.

Link wrapped an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. He seemed intent on keeping his face in your neck, and you recalled him once telling you that you always smelled good.

"Hmm..." Link sighed, squeezing your hip. You continued to stroke his hair.

Even though he became more daring when he was drunk, he'd still never touch you in a sexual way in even a semi-public context. You knew he just wanted to be closer to you. (Sometimes you wondered in amusement, if Link would attach himself to you, given the opportunity.)

Link looked sleepier than anything, and you brushed gently along his ears, coming to a decision.

"Everyone, it's been amazing to meet with you all and catch up, but I think it's about time we turn in for the night." You smiled, helping Link up, who neglected to let go of you. Whether due to trouble keeping upright or simply a desire to touch you, you didn't know.

Not that it really mattered. All you were worried about now was getting your boy to bed. 

[scaly-freaks]

cherry wine stains 8.0

playing it a little differently and rewinding back to their school years but with an Aegon POV this time.

all previous parts in pinned.

"I like your knee-high socks."

"I like the chain you wear like a crucifix."

"Strange way to describe it."

"I don't know. It just - it hangs around your neck like the absence of something."

Her words dissolve like sugar into the cup of his mind.

Clever people don't realise the riptide of their soul is not being fed until they meet another clever person. Aegon's currents slow to a whispered crawl as his eyes trace Amara's profile, creating images in the tangle of her windswept curls.

She's left a lipstick print on his mother's favourite mug. When he sees it, his soul unhooks from where he keeps it folded away, right there at the base of his neck where the silver chain fastens.

Later, he'll kiss that print, see if the measure of his mouth is enough.

Helaena told him in private: You can't! You can't, you can't, you can't! You ruin everything!

The frantic protests of a younger sister who thinks - knows - that her older brother getting involved with one of her friends is going to end up in a loss for her. He's dated one of Helaena's friends before (it ended in the kind of operatic disaster you only ever see on Eastenders).

He does not want to date Amara as much as he wants to pry her open like a game of cat's cradle and weave apart the strings that keep her mobile. Half the time, Aegon suspects she isn't truly awake. Some part of her is drowning in slumber, deep as Briar Rose. He catches that moment sometimes, as she blinks at him with those sleepy eyes.

The texture of her thoughts - when she gives them up - slips like satin over his fingers.

"Do you want a smoke?" He flips the mint-green box in his palm and grins.

Her gaze is longing. "I told my mother I'd quit. Besides, aren't menthol cigarettes banned here?"

He shrugs, slipping one between his pinched lips to hold it steady. "Nothing's banned if you squint."

"Flawed logic," she laughs.

"She said to a drug dealer."

That makes her laugh harder. He likes making her laugh. Feels worthwhile somehow. Not much in his life feels that way these days.

The younger siblings are all growing up, leaving school, moving onto greener pastures, where the chaotic drudgery of the council estate turns into a crystalline vision in the rearview, something to put into personal statements and add what rich tossers would call flavour.

They don't need him like they used to. He and his mother have raised them to become self-sufficient and now Aegon has to figure out what he wants to do with himself because where the kids are going, they won't want to admit what their brother does - has done - for a living to ensure their survival. He predicts he'll be the family embarrassment every Christmas, the uncle that shows up drunk, with a sliver of something in his eyes that suggests he could have been something once.

He knows he won't end up that way. His need to be someone, get somewhere, is far too aggressive. But he does fear no longer being needed by the people who have relied on him so long he can no longer extricate himself from the identity of protector.

Maybe it's why he likes making Amara laugh.

She doesn't have siblings. Her eyes still dart around, nervous, as if aware her protection in this world is lacking compared to that of others. Her parents won't always be around. When they are gone, there won't be siblings to divide her grief up with. It'll just be her.

If his subconscious is turning her into his new surrogate sister, it doesn't reconcile well with the instinct that stirs when her skirt rides up an inch.

Alicent's stained glass lamp flickers, bulb on the brink of permanent death. Aegon reaches over to ensure it is screwed on properly and it affords them a last burst of weak light. Amara reaches out her hand under the dappled glow of its illumination, slipping her fingers under the violets, yellows and greens, as the crook of her elbow turns rose pink.

"I've always liked your mother's taste in furniture."

"Yeah? Take it. She wants to throw it out."

"No. If she's decided it's dead, it should go. I'll just be keeping the corpse if I took it."

Aegon's eyes wrinkle at the corners, smile disguised by the inhale of the cigarette. "It's not organic material. There's no corpse."

She glances at him, as if aware of his mockery despite the affection he delivers it with. "I think some inanimate objects come alive if they are loved enough. Alicent's had this lamp since I've known her. It's lived with her, and now it'll die. We shouldn't interrupt the process."

No wonder Helaena adores her.

They are both odd creatures, his little sister, and this intense, doll-eyed mirage that turned up at their doorstep one day, hungry for oven chips and love. She reached out her cold hands to Alicent, and found herself overwhelmed with the warmth and affection given in return.

He's known her so long, she should feel like a sibling.

What does it say about him if he can't stop wondering what it must feel like to graze his lips over her stomach and tongue that bellybutton ring she got in a short-lived fit of rebellion?

Aegon flicks aside the cigarette, mouth acidic with guilt.

He isn't the kind of person who wants. Other people want. Aegon goes out and gets. There isn't enough time to submerge in the feeling of want and understand the true depth of craving the human soul can achieve.

But he sees the whorl of soft hair at the nape of her neck and the feeling crawls up the rungs of his ribcage like a creature possessed. He pictures being small enough to curl up in the soft folds of her clothing, to soak in the scent of her until he passes out from exhaustion.

That feels like enough wanting for today.

"I'll see you downstairs, yeah?"

If she looks disappointed, it's just wishful thinking on his part. She knows he's not going anywhere. He'll be in the living room with the rest of the family who've put on Shrek and are split into two groups - the half that sings along, and the half that won't.

"I'll be down in a bit."

"Cool."

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair, and the flimsy ribbon comes loose. He catches it before it finds freedom. She turns, expectant, waiting for the inevitable return of her almost-lost property. He pulls it between his fingers, wonders if it also carries life inside the woven thread, the way she claimed his mother's lamp does.

The weight of her hair rivals Isolde's.

Irish myths were a rooted part of his childhood, laced into Alicent's quiet voice every bed time. She swears the Hightowers are mostly, if not fully, Irish. But she could never be sure of how far back, or of the intricacies of any bloodlines. Rich people have the luxury of unfurling a family tree across the polished mahogany of their dining room table. They get to find their eyes, noses and mouths in the faces of people who lived too long ago to care what has become of their DNA.

Poor people make do with maybes and perhaps because most of the time, the lives of their ancestors are of no interest to anyone but themselves. Unless a mining forefather was crushed in a collapse and the resulting riots tore down a political establishment.

So, his mother pulled them back to times so ancient, the ancestors became common for all, their bloodlines too distant to maintain individuality.

If Tristan and Isolde are in Aegon's ancestry, that past life becomes tangible when he runs his fingers through Amara's hair and tames it into a braid he's practiced on Helaena a hundred times.

"There's something mythical about your hair," he says, and then cuts himself short because he deals drugs for a living, and whatever fancy thought this was about to be would make more sense from someone more booksmart.

She cranes her neck back and gives him the brightest upside-down smile. "That's the best compliment anyone's ever given me."

Aegon bites the inner corner of his lip and nudges her to look straight so he can keep braiding.

Once her eyes are off his face, it splits into a smile. Warmth drains down his spine like gold egg yolk poured from its shell. Once the braid is done, he rests his chin on the top of her head, and passes it off as brotherly with a goldfish-squeeze of her cheeks.

He lingers, inhales deep, smells her, turns her scent into binary code that he will decipher in isolation later.

"Don't be too long. You'll catch your death out here."

[astriiformes]

Talked about this with the counselor I've been seeing at school earlier today but my intense, desperate need to leave a mark on the world (not even in a fame way, in like a "I need to leave this place better than I found it in a big, tangible way" one) and the fact that I only value myself when I feel like I'm adding good to it paired with the fact that I've been an insane perfectionist since I was a very young child and tear myself to shreds and lose all my confidence over tiny mistakes is literally going to kill me some day

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Knight in Shining Armor

Yandere Monster Knight x Princess Reader

TW: delusional Yandere, Yandere behavior, kidnapping (mentioned), etc.

Ajax had always been princess (your name)’s confidant and source of solace… so why did he have her cornered on the bed of the inn? His large, muscular frame towered over her as his body trembled.

“I can’t do it… I can’t let you marry some other man.” Ajax whispered, his metal mask hiding his expression. There was no doubt in (your name)’s mind that he was shaken up about something. She had no clue why he’d be so upset about her getting married…

“Ajax, it was bound to happen eventually. It’s my duty as the kingdom’s princess-“ (your name) gasped when he closed the distance between them. Ajax’s large palms pulled her into a tight hug. The force of the hug caused them both to land on the small bed with a soft plop.

“Ajax-“ Ajax placed a finger on (your name)’s lips to pause her words.

“I won’t allow it… I won’t allow some other man to sully you.” Ajax’s deep voice made her body anxiously shake. “Not when I’ve wanted you for so many years…”

“Ajax-“ (your name)’s eyes widened when he finally removed the mask that’s concealed his face for over a decade. Ajax was half orc? (Your name) hadn’t a clue and she had been with him for so many years…

“I’m half monster, I thought you knew.” Ajax chuckled as his crimson eyes flitted over (Your name)’s frozen form. She was now a helpless lamb trapped in the maw of the wolf. “It’s why the other knights have been so cruel to me… why the maids avoid me like the plague and your father wanted to send me to war.”

(Your name)’s eyes can only take on his scarred and burned face in shock. Why was half the skin on his mouth missing and his tusks filed down? Who had hurt him so much that he didn’t confide in her, his best friend? What atrocities had he faced while she remained none the wiser?

(Your name) were shocked when he bent down to show you his teeth. His tusks were clumsily filed down to almost look like teeth but they were still rather sharp. “I did the tusk work, but they grow back rather quickly. The skin on my face is still healing from when there was an assassination attempt on you from your future husband’s concubines. Bastard was going to pour acid on your face.”

(Your name) reached up to trace the scars on his face while Ajax gave her a soft smile. “Ajax…”

“You’re the only one who’s never treated me like a monster… you’re so wonderful and kind.” Ajax moved his large, gloved hands to hold her hands. “That old king doesn’t deserve you. No one does!”

(Your name) blushed when Ajax brought her hands up to his lips to press tender kisses over each of her knuckles. Despite how badly Ajax wished to ravish her, he must keep his composure.

“You took this amount of damage for me?” (Your name)’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it made Ajax melt into a puddle.

“Of course I did. I will do anything for you.” Ajax moved himself to crouch on the corner of the bed, his head in a slight bow. Yet (your name) could feel the burning obsessed behind his crimson gaze. “I am in love with you. Madly, deeply, entirely devoted to you and only you.”

Ajax grasped (your name)’s bare foot and brought it up to his mouth to press tender kisses across the top of it. “I will love you until my skin rots off my body and I am nothing but bones. Yet even death could not separate me from you for I will be in every corner of your life like a permanent shadow of protection. I will protect you with my entire being and soul. I will haunt and dismember your enemies if you so much as give them a glance of distaste.”

(Your name) felt her blood run cold when Jax gave her a bright grin that reopened a few of the stitches across his cheeks. The blood dripped down his face and onto her foot, but he merely lapped it up with his longer tongue. “Now tell me… is what I feel not love? I may not be a handsome prince but I swear I’m your knight in shining armor.”

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

[dejwrld]

CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 2

( GUARDIAN ANGEL ) 🎮 GUARDIAN ANGEL!SEPHIROTH X READER

— game synopsis: he's been your guardian angel since you were sixteen years old. protecting you from danger you didn't see coming, but now that you're slowly wanting space from him—he makes it his mission to remind you who you belong to until you take your final breath.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, slight enemies to fuckers, reader somewhat purposely put herself in danger, possessive!sephiroth, mentions of sephiroth having pretty white wings, mating press position, cream pies, mentions of soul ties,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You’ve known him since you were sixteen years old. The mere memory of him grabbing at your backpack strap to tug you out of the way as you were about to walk into ongoing traffic imprints your brain like a nostalgic TV memory. He was a sixteen-year-old guardian angel who aged through the years as you grew, interfering in your life as if you were the most life-threatening person ever. 

Freshman year of college, he’s taking the red solo cup of whatever mixed potion the older frat guys made out of your hand. This led to practically the whole campus thinking you were chronically insane as you argued with no one because they couldn’t see what you saw. He interfered with your life at moments when you had it all under control, and he didn’t need to baby you as if you didn’t. But you were grateful for him, and the things he did stop when things got bad.

It's like killing a guy who roofied you at a bar. Despite the toxic drugs from drinking your drink, it had you feeling like you were in another world. You remember the crimson-red liquid staining his large, elegant white wings after the deed was done. After that, he’s never left your side, and you grew to feel suffocated. You couldn’t do much in your life if you had your guardian angel down your neck twenty-four-seven commenting on you getting hurt or dying. 

Now an adult, he still was here. Despite you being perfectly fine. No freak accidents, no near-death experiences. He still was here lurking around as if you were a child. 

Right now, watching as you poorly attempted to get laid. Your panties dangle from your ankle as you wait for the guy to insert, but as your horny meter slowly decreases—so does the poor stranger you met at a bar cock. Your eyes averted between your bodies as he aggressively pumped his condom-covered cock; you could hear his laughs as he was sitting on your kitchen counter chewing on an apple. 

Fuckin’ Sephiroth.

“You know what? That’s okay. Just leave.” You pushed the guy off you, limp dick and all while you’re scrambling to tug your panties back on. 

“What? It just takes some time,” The guy’s tugging his pants up in frustration. “Just please…baby.” He’s grasping on you, and you’re swatting his hand away like it’s an annoying fruit fly. 

“Just go. I’m no longer in the mood.” You warned.

This was a warning not only for yourself but for him. You had a 6’1 angel looming around your apartment who didn’t care to kill someone—especially a person who wasn’t following directions. Your eyes darted from him in the kitchen to the guy who kissed his teeth while collecting his belongings.

“Don’t call me anymore! You completely wasted my time.” He sneered at you while leaving your apartment. The door closed with a harsh slam that made you jump. 

As silence drifts over your apartment, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of that annoying clock in your kitchen ticking, you lean back on the couch with a sigh. “You know, you completely ruined the vibe, you know?” Your eyes land on the white-haired male as he finishes the apple he obnoxiously chews on.

“Do not blame it on me.” He tosses the apple in a trash can and stands up to close the space between you.

“I am blaming you because it seems like every romantic connection I attempt to make, you are there to ruin it.” You sneered at him before sitting up. “I don’t think this will work anymore, Sephiroth.” 

“Are you saying you want to release me of my duties of being your guardian angel?” He asks. You can feel he got closer despite shifting your eyes closed to calm yourself down from this talk. 

You two have been together for years. He’s been protecting you for years, and now it felt so suffocating that you couldn’t breathe. Sometimes, you wanted to release him of his duties, but you knew when you did that every memory you’ve shared with him would vanish. It would be like you two have never met. 

The sight of him with his elegant white wings on his back. The sight of blood staining his pale skin after murdering someone that hurt you. The look of worry when you almost walk into traffic, and he was a split second from being too late. 

He was yours just as much as you were his. But you needed space. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, pushing yourself off the couch to enter your room. “You know, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we can co-exist in each other’s lives anymore.” You explained you turned around, and he was leaning against your doorframe with the most obnoxious face. 

It was as if your words were going out one ear and the other for him. “We’re not young anymore. I don’t need you being so….so.” You were searching for the word to describe how you felt—frustration riddling your bones as you attempted to express yourself. 

Sephiroth took steps forward, closing the gap between you two. When he was towering over you with such little care at how close he was to you—he fixed your tank top strap and let his slender fingers linger on your shoulder just a little longer to cause goosebumps to garnish your skin immediately. 

“Possessive.” He finishes your sentence as his teeth graze upon his lower lip. “Is that the word you’re searching for, my little ward?” 

And with challenging eyes, you met his and said, “Yes. Possessive, like you own me or something.” 

His chuckles. But this chuckle was different from the one you have heard. It felt more sinister, more agitated. 

“You’re stuck with me, love. If you like it or not. We’re bound together until you die of old age or better yet, I briefly take my eyes off you as fate finally chooses a moment for you to die. Maybe a bus will hit you as you walk into traffic for texting on that silly device of yours, or maybe you’ll accidentally hit your head.” 

Your eyebrows furrow together in frustration and anger at his words. 

“You enjoy my company but don’t want to admit it. You think I didn’t notice the way you bring home little flings to spite me. You think I can’t hear the way your heartbeat quickens at the sight of me watching you get fucked by some man who can’t even make you orgasm. Sephiroth’s eyes glance over your body like he was observing you under a microscope. “So tell me, Y/N.” His finger’s toying with that strap on your tank top that keeps falling off your shoulder. 

“How many times have you imagined me, your sworn protector—your guardian angel fucking you?” His fingers drag alongside your nipples that harden through the thin white fabric of your tank top. “And don’t lie; I know when you’re lying to me.” 

You couldn’t quite remember what you had said after his words for your knees to be pressed upon your stomach and for Sephiroth’s cock to be buried into your throbbing cunt while your moans bounced off the walls. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other with the sound of your headboard banging against the wall was like music to your ears. But you enjoyed the sight of Sephiroth more. 

His crystal white hair fell in his face so perfectly. Comically enough, you wanted to say he looked like an angel. His eyes kept averting between your fucked out face and in between your body. With each glance down there, it seemed he fucked you into the mattress even harder. Instantly, your legs snake around his waist, completely trapping him from depriving you of what you were so eager for.

Sephiroth chuckles darkly through your pants of desperation, “Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He mumbles. He pulls his cock entirely out of you, leaving you whining for more. 

He guides his cock in between your pussy lips rubbing in the mixture of your essence and pre-cum. Your back arched off the mattress with urgency, and he pushed you back down so you could endure the pleasurable torture of his cock teasing you until you were staining the cotton sheets below your naked body. With each stroke between your puffy lips, you’re squeezing your eyes shut tightly to prevent even the littlest thought of him seeing you like this. You didn’t think you could fathom the mere embarrassment. 

“Come on, you don’t want to see how well you take me?” He questions, his voice rings with a teasing tone that makes your pussy pulse. 

“Fine then.” He mumbles what seems to himself before he hooks his strong arms under your knees, completely trapping you under him and what’s to come.

You wondered if Sephiroth could hear how fast your heart was beating. It felt like it was bouncing around your chest like a small ball in a pinball machine. The feeling of his thick tip brushing against your entrance felt like the world had stopped. Perhaps it did. The idea of a guardian angel fucking his ward into her mattress had to be some form of rule breaker, right? Maybe, just maybe—God had briefly paused the world to give you time to weigh out the pros and cons of this.

But when Sephiroth bottomed down inside you, you felt the world unpause, and a wave of pleasure travel across your body. You even could hear yourself let out a sigh of relief—as if you’ve been waiting for this moment in centuries. The way his cock was inside, you felt like it was a missing piece in a puzzle you need. It fit perfectly, but when he started rotating and thrusting his hips—you couldn’t help but call out his name like it was a scripture.

It wasn’t as if you could do anything else but take his sensual thrusts. The mating press position trapped you from doing anything else but that. The way he was making you feel at the moment had you ignoring all that. Your moans echoed into his ear, and Sephiroth was very responsive because he’d grunt back like a rabid animal in heat. Ensuring that the feeling was mutual. That he was feeling just as good as you were. 

“After this, you’ll be stuck with me forever, right?” Sephiroth asked. His tongue drags alongside the bridge of your right ear, and instantly, your legs snake around his waist, locking your feet together so he won’t let go.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” His words send a chill down your spine as he continues to fuck into the mattress.

The pornographic sound of heated flesh echos upon your bedroom, and your eyes seem to squeeze shut in bliss. Savoring the moment between the two of you until you couldn’t anymore. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, and your thighs quivered under your guardian angel’s touch. His grip on you grew tighter, and you knew that he was unraveling right on top of you. His groans that echoed in your ear changed into whines of desperation. If you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t seen him this desperate in your life.

But it was a reason for that because, in just three seconds, he was a coming mess. He didn’t even bother to pull out, either. His nails dug into your heated flesh with each thrust inside of you, ensuring that each droplet of his cum stayed inside of you. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you leaned up to indulge in a heated kiss to seal the deal that you knew was going to follow you for years.

You truly were stuck with him forever until you took your last breath. 

TAGS // @salaciousdoll @syndrlla97 @lilvampirina @msun1c0rn

[fairydustblossom]

encroaching promises

azriel x reader

summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."

category: angst (i just rly love it)

word count: 4.8k

warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??

notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!

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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.

He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 

You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.

You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 

Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.

After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?

The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.

It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?

Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 

You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 

And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 

When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.

Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 

You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 

You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.

“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 

“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.

The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 

Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 

Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.

“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.

“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.

He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.

At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”

You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 

His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 

His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.

“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”

You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 

“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 

“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”

“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 

Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.

You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?

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Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.

Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 

He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.

Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.

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For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.

You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 

You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.

Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 

Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 

You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.

When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.

You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 

You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.

You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 

All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 

“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 

When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 

He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 

He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 

“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 

You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”

At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”

You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 

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It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.

You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.

Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”

Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”

You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 

You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 

“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.

[skipper1331]

Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

| Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

-

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

-

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

-

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

-

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

-

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

[rainbowhao]

i can't take my eyes off of you ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 1.4k

you’re so patient. beomgyu’s a menace and you’re so patient that it has him falling for you even more than he thought possible—putting up with his antics every day of the week and always allowing him to voice all the dumb and borderline insane ideas he has to you.

like now. gyu’s been ranting to you for the past hour all while inside the safety of your carefully-crafted pillow fort. snacks, plushies, fairy lights, even a speaker for music—it has everything you could need on a night like this. it’s far too easy for your best friend to slip in beside you and let out everything on his mind. even what's better left unsaid.

“you go out with soobin yet?” he can’t help but frown at the name as it leaves his lips. he lies on his back, arms behind his head and decked out in his comfiest pajamas. he’d heard all about the unexpected run-in with your former high school crush and had been unable to think about anything else all week.

“mhmm,” is all you say. this has beomgyu turning toward you immediately. he can’t stand when you act vague. how are you so calm and unbothered while he's dying inside?

“you did?” he leans in a little as if you’d then be prompted to respond. “well? how did it go?” 

you want to smile at how eager he looks, waiting for you to give him any little bit of information on what went down.

“it was nice. we just met for lunch and caught up.” you shrug, gaze returning to the blanket currently acting as the ceiling to your fort. 

beomgyu huffs. “i knew it. he likes you.” he shuffles around before crossing his arms across his chest. “so what? are you going to date now or something?” he asks cooly, as if it wasn’t the worst possible thing he could imagine.

“gyu, seriously.” you chuckle. “i haven’t seen him in years. it was friendly—nothing more.” your best friend had a gift—the gift of jumping to conclusions. you know he’s silently pouting right now. he'd always been like this—grumpy whenever you mentioned hanging out with anyone other than him. 

beomgyu wasn’t a possessive guy. at least when it came to everything else in his life. but you were different. was it so bad he wanted you to himself? he knew you better than anyone, could treat you right in ways you’d never imagine. so what if soobin was taller, better looking, the textbook definition of mr. right?

he didn’t get you like beomgyu did.

“you look pretty right now,” gyu tells you quietly. he doesn’t care if you’ll scold him for it—it’s true. beneath the glowing lights, your soul exposed to him in such an intimate way that only this space could bring, you’re stunning.

“what?” you’re flushing. “you’re delirious. go to sleep.” you shove a pillow his way but he just blocks it. he’s giving you those puppy-like eyes, hair hanging in his face; it’s gotten longer than it ever has. “you planning on getting a haircut?” you can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through the strands. maybe it's you who’s delirious.

his eyes flutter closed at your gentle touches. “should i?” his lips barely even move. 

“I like it a lot,” you tell him honestly. “suits you.”

“oh?” his mouth curls into a smirk “then i’ll definitely keep it long.”

you enjoy moments like these, when beomgyu’s mellow and tender-hearted. you didn’t mind the craziness, sure, but it was rare to see him in such a raw and exposed state. no games, no antics, just gyu—the boy you had inevitably fallen for.

you find yourself getting lost in his eyes when they open once more. he’s looking at you so softly you can’t seem to turn away. the twinkling lights cast a soft glow on his face, making his lips look even more pink than usual. you can feel your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment.

“am i that beautiful?” beomgyu jokes. he dramatically blinks to show off his long eyelashes. your throat’s gone dry.

“you are beautiful, gyu,” you murmur. you don’t even realize you’ve begun stroking the side of his cheek until his hand grabs yours, forcing your fingers to come to an immediate halt.

“so you admit it.” beomgyu cups the back of your hand. “you adore me, don’t you?” he giggles to himself. “i’ll remember this moment forever now—the day you finally confessed my beauty out loud.” 

“ridiculous.” you scoff and yank back your hand. “you always know how to ruin things.” 

“what things?” beomgyu prompts. and when you try to turn onto your back, he just peers over you, arms coming on either side of your torso. beomgyu doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. he doesn’t want to; he likes being near you. “are you mad now?” he hums, face becoming increasingly closer to your own.

“no,” you say blankly.

“are you embarrassed?” he teases. “you are, aren’t you? my cute baby’s all flustered.” beomgyu finds the situation all too amusing. 

“i—i am not! and who says something like that?” you’re flaming hot beneath him, suddenly feeling very trapped.

“don’t go out with soobin,” he says suddenly. “he likes you. i know he does.” his exhale’s shaky, forearms nearly wobbling as he holds himself up. “how could he not?” he whispers the last part. 

“why are you so obsessed with this?” you study him. even though he hadn’t said anything in the previous days, you knew he’d been stressing about it. beomgyu was like an open book to you. but sometimes there were things about him you didn’t understand. why was he so upset over the idea of you dating someone?

“i don’t want you to be anyone else’s but mine.” beomgyu confesses. his nose finds its way to the crook of your neck, nudging at the warm skin before he dares let his lips press against you. he kisses you so briefly, so lightly that you almost think you’d imagined it. but then he’s leaving more in a trail down your neck, whispering tiny little pleas in between. “please…let me show you.”

“show me what?” the tiny space is so incredibly warm now. “gyu, w—what are you doing?” you’d never known him to be so forward. his sudden confidence had your head spinning.

he pulls back a little to look at you. “i want you to know how much you mean to me.” beomgyu couldn’t help himself; the hazy lighting and late-night fatigue had him thinking unspeakable things about his best friend and truthfully, he’d never wanted something so badly as he wanted you in this very moment. “can i baby?”

there he goes with that name again. 

“okay,” you whisper. “how?”

“first,” he says lowly, “i’m going to kiss you.” with enough of his weight on you, he’s able to bring one hand up to your face. “right here.” the tip of his finger traces your bottom lip. “and then i’m going to tell you just how crazy you make me. or maybe you already know that.” he smiles. “as for soobin...tell him to get in line."

a/n: inspired by the song "cherry bomb" by julianna joy! please listen to it because it matches the vibe so well. and i guess this could be considered an early birthday fic :)

[targaryen-dynasty]

AND NOW I SEE DAYLIGHT.

Aemond Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, loss of virginity, p in v, handjob (fem and m receiving), size kink, breeding kink, westerosi bedding ceremony, forced marriage, mentions of underage marriage (but no consummation), fluff, female reader (appearance is not mentioned)

WORDS: 5.2 K

NOTES: The timeline is altered a bit. The events of episode 8 take place later, like sixtish years or so. @ivvypg and @sapphirehearteyes thank you for your glorious request. I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to @arcieleefor betaing this bad boy. This is dedicated to my beloved @black-dread. Thanks for all the amazing icons, gifsets and headers and for always having my back. ILU.

That one particular night at Driftmark haunted your every being ever since you and Silverwing flew home alongside Sunfyre, Tessarion, Dreamfyre and Vhagar the following morning. 

King Viserys had ordered your betrothal to his suddenly mutilated second son so abruptly, stating it was the least both parties could do to make amends, that not even your mother nor the queen had a chance to intervene. 

Everyone was aware of the large chasm between the members of House Targaryen, yet Viserys was blind to see that it could not be diminished anymore – especially not by the betrothal of you to your uncle. 

Not more than a sennight had passed until Aemond and you cited your vows, and the sea green cloak of House Velaryon that was draped over your shoulders was replaced by the same black cloak your mother had once worn at her wedding to your late father. And besides your husband's side of the family, with your grandsire removing your cloak, no one else was present. 

You had understood the threat of the situation like no other back then, and did not resent your mother’s absence, highly doubting that a raven even had left King’s Landing to inform your family on Dragonstone about the wedding being pushed forward. 

Ravens of Dragonstone, however, frequented your chambers on a weekly basis. 

Sometimes they were shoved into your hands as you were walking the hallways of Maegor’s Holdfast, and other times they were slid under the door to your martial chambers when Aemond was not present. 

Cryptid messages, and more often than not paragraphs written in High Valyrian, adorned the scrolls handed over to you by maids and knights alike you knew were loyal to no other than the heir to the Iron Throne and her uncle-husband. Neatly kept away from whom it could be a thorn in the side. 

The letters were your only solace in this lonely time – and did little to mend your homesickness. 

Until Aemond had stumbled into your shared chambers one night, his silver curls tousled and the little braid at the back of his head loose. He ashamedly had admitted that Aegon had taken him to the Street of Silk to ensure he was as educated as his older brother was in the prospect of you having to consummate your wedding at some point, his voice breaking more and more with each word he said. 

You had not understood the significance at first, but once it had settled, a lingering feeling of betrayal had spread throughout your bones. But there was no chance for it to linger any longer than a sennight, because that incident had seemed to bring your husband closer to you than he had been all the years you two spent together in the Red Keep. Two broken and lonely souls drawn to each other, searching for the comfort they had longed for for so long. 

He sought out your presence more often than before, adamant to join you during your lessons and whenever you and your dragon ascended into the sky. Your presence during his training with the sword was greatly valued by him, something he had not bothered to acknowledge before.

You were hesitant to reciprocate his gestures and subtle affection at first, however, it overtook you in an ambush – and he was just as surprised as you were to learn that you were falling for him. 

But regardless of how many hours you had spent together, how many kisses you had shared in secret, one mystery remained. 

The black patch of leather concealing part of his chiseled features and what lay beneath. 

Aemond rarely showed his vulnerability, even after being married for a few years already, and his missing eye was his biggest weakness. You did not push him, but regardless of how often you had told yourself you did not care about it, a part of you craved to see what was hidden, just as he craved your touch whenever you retired for bed. 

Knowing your patience would bear fruit at some point, no matter how long it took, you just waited to finally be rewarded. 

And there you stood now. Surrounded by a group of no less than five men. 

Seven days of festivities and feasts lay behind you, tiring you to a certain degree. They were celebrating the night your husband was finally meant to claim your virtue, making your marriage fully legitimate. 

And of course it was none other than your drunken uncle whose gruff voice had silenced the chatter of your guests, followed by a clap of his hands as if he had seen the servants bring another tankard full of the finest wine the capital had to offer. 

“I believe ‘tis time for the bedding!” 

It was not the thought of bedding Aemond, his promise of him not hurting you lingering in the back of your mind. It was the men crowding you, ready to tug and tear on the white gown queen Alicent had commissioned to be made for this occasion. For the official celebration of your wedding. 

The bedding ceremony was a tradition particularly valued in other parts of the realm, however, with House Targaryen – or Hightower – in dire need of some more loyal allies, they had opted to follow along to those traditions. And, with Aemond being the ever dutiful son, he of course did as his grandsire and mother bid. 

There was a loud cheer in the hall that quietened with Aemond eventually speaking. “Very well,” he said, a much smaller group of women surrounding him already. “But if any man offends my wife in word or deed, I shall have his head and feed him to Vhagar.” 

No one dared to mess with the rider of the biggest dragon alive, had not before and most certainly not now. So it was that, when you were swept off of your feet, the men did not tug on your gown as hungrily as they had looked at you before. 

You had no chance watching how Aemond was led to your martial chambers after you, the gaggle carrying you disappearing so quickly, as if they had to be somewhere else not long after. And once your bare feet were set on the cold ground, the men hurried around you to undo your dress, loosening the bodice and leaving you clad in nothing else than your smallclothes with the white dress pooling around your ankles. 

The giggling of women grew in volume, catching your attention and forcing you to look past the group of men to the door, watching your husband enter. A sullen look overcame your features as you spotted Aemond with the buttons of his embroidered tunic opened, more so as your eyes flickered to the three undone laces in the front of his breeches. The women stopped outside of the door while he entered, and it seemed that his venture to the Street of Silk years ago had affected you more than you thought.

Aemond’s sharp eye, the purple striking even more with the patch of black leather next to it, cut through the group of men to find yours, moving slowly as he took you in. Where the chill air of your chambers had caused goosebumps to prickle on your skin before, they now were replaced by a feeling of liquid fire running through your veins. 

There was a longing in you, suppressed by nervousness. 

Ever since your first flowering, not long before you turned ten-and-four, there were little to no nights you found sleep without thoroughly exploring each other's bodies – but not once going far enough for him to take your maidenhead. 

Aemond had told you that his mother had requested for you to preserve your maidenhood until the bedding ceremony, stating she would want you to avoid the death in childbirth the maesters at the citadel had recorded for very young mothers. Though you and him both knew she just did not like the thought of you losing your maidenhead and him possibly putting a child in you without the official ceremony of the second wedding, with more witnesses. You chose to follow her orders - to a certain degree at least. 

He stalked towards you slowly, and there must have been something in the way his eye had darkened, because without another word, the men around you disappeared from your marital chambers, the doors falling shut behind Aemond. Coming closer, you were forced to tilt your head up to keep your eyes locked with his, his tall frame looming over yours. “They might listen at the door if they wish, but none will watch,” Aemond purred, voice cutting through the silence and sending a shiver down your spine. 

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other under the intensity of his gaze, you reached to pinch the thick, embroidered hem of his tunic with your fingers, rubbing it between them. When your eyes trailed from his down to your fingers, you briefly spotted his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, matching your own. 

“Take-Take it off,” you stammered, barely hearing yourself with the feeling of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. As he did not move straight away, your wide eyes locked with his good one again, before he eventually pushed the tunic off his shoulders, joining your gown in a puddle on the floor. 

You had seen him bare before, but this time was different. It felt more intimate, more vulnerable, given what was to be expected of the two of you. 

Sparse, silver hairs adorned the expanse of his chest, and raking your fingers through them had never seemed so inviting. You could not admire the whispy trail that pursued from his navel down to disappear below the waistband of his breeches, because Aemond placed the tip of his finger under your chin to not only close your slightly opened mouth but to bring your focus back on him, forcing your head up for you to look at him. 

“Are you enjoying the view, wife?” The term of endearment in combination with his demanding touch flushed your cheeks with desire, and caused your words to die on your tongue. 

Glancing around the room to escape his heated gaze and regain your composure, you nodded your head, a sheepish smile on your lips. “I love you,” you whispered. And then, his lips captured yours with such ferocity, it enticed you with the promise of more and made you aware that he felt the same, even if he did not voice it. 

Wandering hands grasped every part of your body they could reach, settling on your waist, while yours seized his shoulders for leverage, fingers dancing along the sides of his neck. You pressed your body against his, the heat emanating from him pleasant and comforting. 

Your mouths hardly parted as his tongue dragged over your kiss-swollen lips just in time with you squeezing your thighs together, eliciting a shaky moan to slip past your lips. His fingers had started to undo the ties of your smallclothes, their movements stuttering at the sound. Aemond pinched the fabric between his fingers, stopping it from falling from your body just yet as his tongue persistently pushed past your lips again, claiming them with newfound vigor. 

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes shut just a moment longer before your half-lidded eyes met his, one shaky breath after the other fanning into the chill air. You tried to chase his lips, but when his hand came up to grab your chin, your smallclothes dropped to the ground. The reassuring squeeze of his other hand on your waist did little to stop you from shivering, the cold hitting your heated skin and the wetness between your legs.  

You gasped as his hand came up to grope your breast, watching in awe as Aemond bowed forwards to wrap his lips around your nipple, nibbling and suckling on it. Shock widened your eyes, given that he had never done that before, yet you were desperate to keep his lips right there with your hands buried in the silver strands of his hair. 

His fingers danced across the curve of your waist down to your arse, groping your flesh and holding you in place, if not even drawing you closer towards him than you already were. You writhed and panted in his grasp, keeping your eyes locked on his face as he licked over the curve of your breast, tongue swirling around your hardened bud. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whimpered, inhaling sharply as a tug on Aemond’s silver tresses caused him to groan against your sweaty skin. Pulling back, he smirked up at you in a manner that gave away he felt flattered to have your undivided attention, the purple of his eye almost completely eclipsed by black. 

Rising back to his full height, he mused, “I have only just begun.” Bringing his hand to your cheek, he nuzzled his nose along the side of your face, inhaling your scent. Your head tilted in the opposite direction to grant him even more access, allowing him to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear. 

“Why don’t you stop tempting me with those sweet sounds you make?” he breathed against the spot behind your ear before turning you around, your back flush against his chest. The protruding bulge in the front of his breeches pressed against your arse, alluring enough to push back against him. But with his hand trailing from your waist down between your legs, that urge was forced into the back of your mind. 

You held onto his arm as two of his fingers parted your folds, dragging back and forth to generously coat them in your arousal. Tipping your head back against his shoulder, you turned it sideways slightly to nuzzle your nose against the side of his face. “My, my,” Aemond purred, “it seems as though someone is feeling frisky, mh?” You replied with a quiet whine that was elicited by his fingers circling around your little bud, prompting Aemond to scoff. 

“I have not even had the chance to show your cunt enough attention, and you are this wet for me already.” Heat crept onto your cheeks at his words, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle a moan. 

Squeezing his arm to keep yourself grounded, you looked at him from over your shoulder with hooded eyes. “I can not help it, husband,” you whimpered, taking in a sharp breath as his fingers breached your tight cunt mid-sentence. “You–” taking in a deep breath, “you are just too tantalizing and make me want you so desperately… please.”

A hum rumbled in his chest at your words. “Patience,” he simply mused, continuing the ministrations of his fingers. The pleasure that soared through your body had you grinding your hips against his hand, chasing as much friction as possible. But before your peak could wash over you, his touch left your body, his arm pulled from your grasp to place the hand on your hip. 

Your mouth opened and closed without any words leaving your lips, slowly processing what had happened, and when it opened again, he was quick to cut you off. 

“On the bed.”

Moving too slow for his liking, he pushed you towards your marital bed, and you sat down at the edge of it, keeping your eyes fixed on him. 

Aemond stood not too far away from you, giving you the perfect view of his flushed chest and the large bulge of his confined member in the front of his breeches. Your breath hitched in your throat as his nimble fingers started to undo the last laces of them. He ridded himself of the dark fabric, kicking it aside as it pooled around his ankles to walk towards you. 

His member stood to full attention, a slight curve to it and the tip slightly flushed in the same color of his lips. It had you squeezing your thighs to suppress the aching between them that yearned to be soothed by him. By it. 

Before he was able to touch your chest to push you flat on the bed, you gripped his wrist, staring up at him with determination flickering in your eyes. “Everything,” you said, trying to not let the slight tremble in your voice become too audible. 

His one good eye widened in surprise, his brow raised. For several moments, Aemond remained silent, taking in your words and the request implicit in it. To you, it felt as if you had pushed your luck with him taking a tad too long, but the softening of his gaze betrayed the genuine interest he found in your proposal. 

He was half tempted to do what you requested just to surprise you, to gawk at your expression at seeing what he had hidden beneath the leather all this time. Would it be worth taking the risk of scaring you for the rest of your lives?

There was a flush creeping onto his cheeks, you spotted it even in the dim light the candles granted, it was there. His stiff posture coaxed you to get back onto your feet, standing in front of him. 

The proximity and the softness and reassurance of your gaze made it difficult for him to deny you, yet you knew you mayhaps had asked too much of him. “Issa sȳz,” you whispered, cupping his face. “Gaomā daor emagon naejot urnēptre nyke.” It is fine. You do not have to show me. 

You were not sure what you were expecting of him, but certainly not his next words. “Jaelā naejot ūndegon ziry?” You want to see it?

Raising a brow, you pressed your lips into a thin line while the corners pulled into a slight smile. “Kesan daor henujagon, nyke kivio.” Aemond’s eye widened again, but this time with something indefinable flickering in it. I will not leave, I promise. 

Reluctantly, his hand came up to cup yours, inching it closer towards the eyepatch. Your eyes flickered between them and his good one, the slight bow of his head giving you the reassurance you needed to continue. Carefully undoing the clasp at the back of his head, you removed the patch of leather. 

With it slowly lowering, Aemond took in a deep breath and closed his eye as if he meant to brace himself for your impending rejection - yet it never came. There was silence, yes, but he could not hear any sounds of disgust or shock, and he was not sure if he liked that. 

Opening his eye, Aemond was blessed by plain curiosity written all over your features. There was concern and interest alike etched into them as you inspected the glimmering sapphire, and suddenly it made sense why he had gifted you a necklace with the same gemstone the day you turned ten-and-four.

His mood seemed to thaw, and his lips twisted into a smile the moment he spotted one of your hands reaching for the delicate pendant hanging around your neck, rubbing it between your fingers and seemingly noticing that you had been linked to one another all those years. 

Staring at him, not the precious gemstone in the socket of his eye, you captured his lips in a kiss that had him grunting once, his arms wrapping around your body. A haze of desire and want clouded your mind, as this kiss turned into all teeth and tongue. 

Aemond slowly herded you against the bed, toppling over onto the mattress the moment your calves hit the edge and caused you to lose your balance. 

The kiss, however, did not break. With your hands still on his jaw, he shifted onto his side, barely parting your mouths and allowing you to crawl further onto the bed while his lips chased yours hungrily. 

Aemond moved to tower over you and ran his hand along the outside of your leg, traveling from your ankle up to the curve of your hip. As you tried to sit up, he squeezed your flesh harshly enough to have a giggle die on your tongue, and pulled you towards him, the force of it sending your head back into the pillows. You squealed in surprise and stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes, the desire in your veins reigniting. 

Your lips parted into the perfect ‘o’-shape the moment Aemond’s finger slid in you, a sight that almost had him spilling his seed right then and there. “Gods,” you whimpered, your back arching against him as one of your hands grabbed his shoulder. 

Spurred on by your sounds and the sight of you unraveling beneath him, he inserted another digit. The way your cunt squeezed his fingers so tightly did not make it easier for him to hold back, the thoughts of it being replaced by his cock sooner or later clouding his mind. 

“That’s it,” Aemond purred, moving his fingers at a torturously slow pace, completely mesmerized as he watched your face contort in pleasure and your body react to his touch. But no amount of curiosity could fool you, knowing that he had not listened to you. 

“You are teasing me again,” you whined, and with your impatience getting the worst of you, you hooked both legs around his waist, using them to pull yourself closer towards what your body desired. Now it was Aemond looking at you with parted lips, his breathing coming out ragged. When you reached for his hard cock, straining against his lower belly, you saw the bump in his throat bob and felt his member twitch in your hand. 

The innocent in your eyes was gone, a sly smirk now draped across your lips. He raised a brow, but did not stop your hand from slowly dragging across it, tugging on him in the rhythm he had set. 

“Give me what I desire,” you panted, rolling your hips against his hand to race for completion. “Please.”

It was evident that with your hand on his cock that he was not able to form one coherent thought, and much to your disliking, he used the hand that previously was between your legs to seize your wrist, pinning your hand to your belly. 

“My love,” he rasped, raising his brows. “We have had many times to practice with our mouths and fingers, but this will be a new experience for you, and I want you to be thoroughly prepared for it.”

You nodded softly, understanding his concern, “we have waited for this night for so long. You have prepared me well, Aemond. Please, let me enjoy you… I am ready.” 

All was lost when you pushed your soaked mound against his cock, trapping it in between your bodies. Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and not having had him inside of you before, you were surprised at how different it already felt merely pressing against your swollen lips. The moan you released was wanton, pleasure and surprise both filling your veins.

His grip on your wrist tightened at that, and his eyes darkened in a way you had not seen before. It sent a shiver down your spine, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

Without a word, Aemond released your wrist and grabbed the base of his cock. Sitting back on his haunches, he lined his cock with your entrance but did not push inside. “Jaelā bisa?” he asked, a concerned edge to his voice that asked for your reassurance. You want this?

Hooded eyes gazed at him as you bowed your head slowly, your heavy breathing and hardened nipples showing just how much you wanted it. “Kessa.” Yes. 

A shuddered breath escaped him as he thrusted into you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Even if he wanted to go faster, your cunt was choking him so tight, there was no chance for him to do so without spending himself. He pushed inside at an agonizingly slow pace, every ridge and vein of him dragged along your walls. 

He had prepared you tonight, and he had prepared you all the nights before that, but it still felt entirely different to what you had expected, if not even painful. You winced, and on cue, your body went rigid. 

Aemond gripped your hip with such force it was meant to bruise in the following days, not making your discomfort any easier. “Gods, shit, I–” he grunted, taking in a deep breath and stilling his movements. He had yet to bottom out completely, but your ease was his priority. 

“‘Tis alright,” he cooed, running one hand along your side in a calming manner. His other grabbed yours and pinned it above your head with your fingers intertwined. Dipping his head down, his lips captured yours in a gentle kiss. It was languid, sensual even, and did not lack any passion. 

You arched your back against him, melting into the warmth that radiated off his body and relaxing almost instantly. Aemond used the opportunity to gently push the rest of his manhood into you, giving you time to adjust to his size once he was sheathed inside. 

You both released a deep breath at the same moment, fanning across each other’s kiss swollen lips. There was a burning inside of you, and you felt filled to the brim, yet it did not sting as badly as it had before. 

“Gods be good,” he rasped, voice tinted with deep desire, “you were made for me. You were always meant to be mine.” Light kisses trailed along your jaw and the side of your neck, meaning he could not spot the color his words forced onto your cheeks. 

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you craned your neck and granted him more access, drowning in the calming feeling of his lips on your skin and the burning desire that pooled between your legs. “Feels s-so good,” you half-moaned, half-whimpered, and Aemond took that as his cue to move. 

His eye searched your face for any sign of discomfort, as if there was the possibility of you only saying it to please him. When he found none, he began rutting his hips into yours. The pace was slow, just like it had been throughout the whole night, and despite it being unsaid, you both knew that was not what this night was about. It was about your unity, making peace with your past and embracing your future together. 

Entangling your other hand in his silver strands, you gently tugged on them, tilting his head back to the point you were able to press your lips to his throat. Aemond groaned, and in response to his cock throbbing inside of you, your walls clenching around him. 

“Tell me… Tell me how I make you feel,” he stammered, breathlessly. His jaw was set, and the bump in his throat bobbed against your lips each time he swallowed his saliva. You mewled against his flushed skin, slightly sucking it between your lips only to release it a few seconds after. 

Running your hand from the back of his head down his spine, it rested on his arse, gently squeezing his flesh. “So good,” you panted, pressing a chaste kiss to his throat. “... incredible.”

Aemond buried his face in the crook of your neck, driving himself into you with a little more determination and force. His body was rutting against your little bud in a way that had the familiar feeling of your peak settling in the pit of your belly, even tingling in the soles of your feet. 

It must have been obvious to him how close you were with your walls trembling and the grip of your legs around his waist tightening; he squeezed your hand once, twice, before grunting against your skin, “peak for me. Can you do that, mh?”

Far too lost in the pleasure his presence granted you, you nodded your head, humming a ‘hmm’ as you wanted nothing more than to please him. And with your peak crashing over you, you did just that. 

A row of wanton moans and whimpers slipped past your lips, growing in volume each time his cock dragged along that sensitive spot inside of you. With your convulsing walls, stars also started to cloud your vision, and it felt as if dragonfire was spreading throughout your body. 

“Please,” you begged, digging your nails into the back of his hand and the flesh of his arse. Aemond hissed at the stinging pain, but his hips did not falter. “Let me give you an heir,” you whined, “put your son in me. Kostilus… please.” It sounded more desperate than intended, but had the desired effect. 

“Seven hells, fuck, yes!” His body went rigid as his twitching cock spent itself deep inside of your quivering walls. Your cunt was choking him, squeezing him so tightly it had his thrusts faltering, coming to a halt despite him still spilling his seed. 

Aemond collapsed on top of you, trying to control his breathing with his face pressed into your dampened hair. Your body was limp, and while a steady breath came quicker to you than him, you weren’t able to do much more than trace your fingers over his back in mindless patterns. 

He pulled out of you as he rolled onto his side, fingers still intertwined with yours and no intention of letting go so soon. You watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips. 

It was surprising you both when you reached out to ghost your index finger over the red scar that emerged below his eye, an expression of concern crawling onto your features with Aemond wincing slightly. 

“Gaomagon daor mirre ruaragon hen nyke arlī,” you whispered, your eyes flickering from his lips up to meet his good one. Do not ever hide from me again. A chuckle came from him, juxtaposed by the nod of his head. “Avy jorrāelan, tolī.” I love you, too. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line was a fruitless attempt to stop them from pulling into a wide grin, and you giggled softly, before your arm wrapped around his neck to pull yourself against him. Mounting him like your beloved Silverwing, you straddled his hips, his cock already half-hard again. 

His member and the whispy hairs around it were glistening in the dim light similar to the sapphire in the socket of his eye, yet it was for a completely different reason. Your mixed juices leaked out of your cunt, coating him and claiming him just like he had claimed you as his before. 

“I might be yours, but you are just as much mine,” you said. 

Aemond smirked at you, before sitting up a little and cupping your face with both hands. His lips collided against yours, pulling you down and consuming you with a kiss that was less chaste than the ones you had shared before, swallowing you in passion. 

Sleep hardly found you in the hours that followed, and if it did, it was only to be interrupted again by lingering kisses and touches, making up for the years you had gone without. 

Taglist: @seabasscevans @dixie-elocin @thelittleswanao3@gemini-mama

[imfinereallyy]

Bedside Manner

for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"

"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"

Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."

Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "

Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."

Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."

Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"

"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.

"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"

"The infection has spread."

Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"

Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."

Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."

"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"

Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."

Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"

Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."

"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."

"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."

Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.

"Well, you both care about me deeply."

Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."

Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."

Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.

"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."

Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."

Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."

Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."

It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.

"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.

The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.

Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.

"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.

"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.

Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.

Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.

"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"

Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."

Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.

Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.

"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.

"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.

Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."

Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"

Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."

***

[sherlockscumslut]

☆Genshin men and how they behave under the mistletoe ☆

Ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham, Cyno, Neuvillette and Wriothesley.

18+ only. Contains smut, sexual innuendos, fluff & crack. Kisses duh, sweet talk, praise, fingering, oral(f&m.receiving), facial, creampies, bad jokes, possible grammar mistakes.

A/n: Have you been naughty or nice this year? 😏 As for me, I guess it's hard to tell bc Wriothesley came home. Did he come to punish me for breaking the law or perhaps, to teach me some...wrestling techniques? 🤭

My AO3

Follow my backup @itsdebby

°☆•☆°•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•☆•

Finds the opportunity to give you a passionate kiss and whisper something naughty in your ear

The mistletoe hangs on your bedroom's door and every once in a while, even when you're on the phone with friends and family, he sneaks out of nowhere and hugs you from behind. His puts his strong arms around your waist and his head nest on your shoulder. "Oops! I think you walked under the mistletoe again, sweetheart." He says in the sweetest tone and gives you soft neck kisses that never fail to make you melt. "I can't wait until I'm all over you tonight~" He murmurs.

KAEYA, Ayato, Childe, Wriothesley

Tells you something random about his current hyperfixation and turns it into a never ending session of him talking about it.

"Nice to see you here, again. I know we live in the same house but you just happened to walk under the mistletoe...What do you mean it's the 20th time today? Listen, I found out MORE information about [x] and I just wanna share it with you...Don't worry, dinner's one me!"

CYNO, Neuvillette, ITTO, Zhongli

Puts some music on and invites you to dance.

"Sweetheart, can I have this dance?" He offers his hand and you cling on him. He spins you around and kisses you softly on the lips. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for" He says smiling. His pretty eyes stare into your soul as he holds your hand and leans for another kiss.

KAEYA, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Neuvillette

Is up for a quicky right here, right now.

You could be baking some cookies for the holidays but he doesn't care that you're busy. Since you walked under the mistletoe to get to the kitchen, he walks in there too and gives you a naughty grin. "You know...I also walked under the mistletoe on my way here...what do I mean? Well, how about I show you instead?" He lifts you up at the counter and starts teasing your clit with his hard cock. Soft moans escape his mouth and fights the urge to come right away. No, he won't let himself come so quickly. Not until he feels your tight pussy sucking him in and hear you beg him to fill you up. He never leaves you empty handed and after a few rough thrusts, he squeezes your hips as he comes inside. He's proud of lasting longer than he expected and had you to beg for his seed.

Childe, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Kaeya

Praises you while you're gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, this is so good...keep going..." He whispers as you worship his cock with your mouth, licking every inch of him. You like to make him think that he's in control but little does he know about your secret technique that can make him burst at any moment. "You're always so good for me" He moans and holds a mistletoe over your head. "Hehe, this adds a little fun, doesn't it?" He starts twitching inside your throat and you pull his cock out of your mouth and tease his tip with your thumb. He groans as he comes on your face and his upper body goes limp."I could do this everyday" He murmurs.

ITTO, Kaeya, Childe, Cyno

Eats your pussy while you're reading a book or watching a Christmas movie in your bedroom.

Turns out it wasn't a bad idea to hang a mistletoe over the headboard. It was his idea but oh well, it benefits you too. You can barely concentrate on your book or movie. How could you when he's licking your clit back and forth and keeps adding one more finger inside you? He drinks your juices like water and his lips vibrate on your flesh as another moan escapes his mouth. Your hole clench on his fingers as you cream all over them. Your toes curl as a wave of satisfaction washes over your body. He looks at you with pure lust, panting while watching you come back to your senses.

Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Cyno, Neuvillette

He still believes in Santa and stays up late to meet him so they can have a quick round of Genius Invocation TCG or beetle fight💀

Thoma, Itto, Cyno.

Cyno joke moment: You wanna know how we know Santa is a man? He shows up late, eats your cookie, empties his sack, comes only once, calls you a ho and leaves while you're sleeping.

《THE END》

! DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!

[mrwavellswaps]

Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

[dantakeyoman]

Hi! I wanna cry out my heart tonight so is it alright for you to make a neteyam x reader where neteyam comes back home after the war but hears that reader is mated/bonded with someone else?

Btw I love your works omg! 🥹

Neteyam Returns From the Metkayina and Falls In Love With You Again After Seeing You (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: i'm sorry but i couldn't bring myself to do it :'), i had it all planned out but it was just too sad, i hope you're alright with the change tho, fluffy fluff, simp Neteyam appearance, reader is one too, Lo'ak and Kiri are, yet again, Lo'ak and Kiri, skeezy is when someone is weird or creepy, figured I’d slide some black slang in there

"Someone's excited," Kiri giggles, turning to Neteyam as her and Lo'ak's ikran approached the entrance to the Omaticaya Stronghold.

The boy had had this childlike expression plastered on his face nearly the whole way home, which grew in giddiness the closer the family drew to their forest home.

Even in the earlier days when they had stopped for rest, she clearly remembered how much he mumbled your name in his sleep, as if it were a prayer.

It made her want to swoon and gag at the same time.

He's so hopeless.

"Yeah. We all know what your excited to see," Lo'ak smirked, pulling his ikran closer to Neteyam's, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Or should I say...who?"

Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes at their antics.

Ever since their journey started, the teasing had been relentless. So much so that it didn't even faze him anymore.

What's a few more minutes of it anyway?

Seeing you again would be his greatest reward.

Four years of pining and longing would all be worth it. 

The hard days, the cold nights, the times where he felt like he couldn't anymore. You came to him, be it a dream, or a memory, and told him you could.

It was what made him love you so much.

Even if you weren’t there, you were there for him, easing his body, mind, and soul.

Back when he lived with the Omaticaya, you two had a special spot that one would go to if they were sad, mad, tired, or simply overwhelmed.

The other would comfort them, hold them close, say sweet nothings, make the other feel loved. 

It became a regular thing. And now that he was coming back, it was the very first thing he wanted to do with you.

He wanted to feel you run your hands through his hair, he wanted you to trace his glowing freckles, he wanted you whisper how much you loved him into his ear.

Fuck.

“You know what would be hilarious? If she found a mate already,” Lo’ak poorly joked, turning to Kiri.

This quickly brought Neteyam out of his reverie, a nervous frown quickly replacing his smile

Kiri was quick to catch this.

“Don’t joke like that, skxawng!” she scolded, flicking him harshly on the head, earning an angry ow! from him.

“Last I checked, (y/n) was obsessed with Neteyam. She wouldn’t shut up about him. I highly doubt she would ever find someone else.”

But the words went through one ear and out the other.

The thought you would mate with someone else never crossed Neteyam’s mind. But now that it did, it made perfect sense.

Four years was a long time, and you were a beautiful woman.

No doubt some skeezy warrior tried to snatch you up the moment you came of age.

The thought made his blood boil, and his heart wrench.

This couldn’t be the case.

After all he’d been through throughout these four years, the only thing that was keeping him going was the thought of you waiting for him at home.

Now that there was a possibility of you no longer being his, he was truly contemplating turning back.

“Look alive kids. We’re here,” his dad smiled, pulling his ikran to the front of the pack.

“Yay! Home!” Tuk cheered from her spot with Neytiri, earning a laugh from the woman.

She was quite excited to be home, too.

They swooped into the cave, perching the ikran on the stone ledge before dismounting, the entirety of the clan running towards them, crowding the family.

Shouts and cheers of excitement echoed throughout the cave, the cave happy to see their former Olo’eyktan had returned, hopefully ready for him, or his son, to resume the mantle.

Despite the thick crowd, Mo’at managed to make it to the front of the mantle, along with the new Olo’eyktan.

“Jakesully, oel ngati kameie,” Mo’at nodded, pointing her hand from herself to Jake.

“Mo’at, oel ngati kameie. Olo’eyktan, oel ngati kameie,” Jake did the same, turning to the Olo’eyktan as well.

Once the formalities were out the way, Mo’at smiled, enveloping her family in a large hug.

“Welcome home,” she greeted.

The entire family hugged her back, the children happy to see their grandmother again.

“Grandmother! You will never believe what we have seen! All of the sea animals and the plants! Oh, and the tulkun!” Tuk happily rambled, hanging onto her grandma a little longer as the rest of the family broke away.

“I am sure you will tell me all about it tonight. My, you have gotten big!” Mo’at assured, hugging her granddaughter tightly.

While Neteyam was happy that his family was fully reunited once again, he still found his eyes scouring the crowd, looking for a familiar face.

Your familiar face.

“She is in the healing tent,” Mo’at whispered, recognizing her grandson’s distress.

He smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before running off through the crowd, down the familiar path that always led him to you.

Visions of the day he left flashed through his head, reminding him what he was coming back to.

“Are you sure you have to go?” you tearfully asked, cupping his face in your hand.

“I must. My family will put everyone in the clan in danger if we stay,” he sighed, pulling you in closer by your waist, resting his forehead on yours.

“Well if you must,” you sniffled, quickly wiping a tear from your eye. “Then I support you. I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes.”

When he snapped himself out of it, he was already at your tent flap, the piece of cloth the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to grab it, but stopped mid-way, hesitating.

What if you had really found someone else to love?

“I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes,” your words repeated in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before yanking open the tent flap, walking in.

“Tsahey! How many times have I told you, Ateyo! You have to be more careful when climbing trees. If you had fell any different, you would have cracked your skull open,” you scolded, smoothing a mushroom salve over a large cut on a young boy’s forehead.

You back was turned, and you didn’t hear the flap sound over the boy’s complaints.

“Hitxoa, (y/n). I tried to be extra careful this time! But a syaksyuk came out of no where and shook the branch!” Ateyo whined, wincing at the sting of the paste.

The air caught in Neteyam’s throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You had grown so much.

Your hair had gotten longer, your chest had gotten larger, and your hips had gotten slightly bigger, with a slightly deeper curve to them.

It was making something stir in his stomach.

The feeling reminded him of that word he had caught his dad calling his mom once. The one that Neytiri hissed at him for when she realized the children were around.

What was it?

Sexy.

When you stopped rubbing the salve on him, the little boy opened his eyes, only for them to land on the tall, warrior behind you, who gave him a polite wave.

The boy gasped in shock, his eyes growing wide with awe.

He knew exactly who he was, every Omaticayan boy did. 

Neteyam the Warrior, brother to Lo’ak the Warrior. 

Stories of the brothers’ adventures were known throughout the clan. And they practically became legends to the children. 

You cocked a brow, slowly turning around. 

“What are you-.” Your breath hitched when your eyes met that of the warrior before you, his smile growing at the sight of your face.

You had gotten more beautiful, too.

You slowly stood up, looking the boy...no, man, up and down, a dark shade of blue growing on your cheeks.

He had gotten incredibly tall, and beefier, too. 

And with new muscle, came new scars, which now littered his body, in a good way.

In an attractive way.

You would enjoy hearing stories about them as you traced them later tonight.

“Oel ngati kameie, my love,” he smirked, doing the gesture along with it, deeply hoping those words were still true.

The biggest smile you had smiled in four years found their way to your lips as you broke into a run, tackling the poor man in a bear hug.

“My Neteyam! You have returned!” you exclaimed out of pure happiness, throwing your arms around his neck and going on your tippy-toes to kiss him on the lips.

You were no longer tall enough to kiss him normally.

He laughed into it, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him ( if that was even possible ).

After your display of affection, he felt foolish to think you would ever mate with someone other than him.

As the two of you broke apart, he looked into your beautiful, honey eyes, and smiled as saw they held so much love behind them.

You were looking at him as if he hung the stars right before you.

And he recognized this because this was the very same look he would give you.

When you weren’t looking, of course.

“Look how beautiful you have grown. You must be the most sought woman in the clan,” he smirked, sensually tucking a stray braid behind your ear.

You smirked right back, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.

“Ah, yes. It has come to that,” you playfully sighed, leaning in closer so your mouth lay just outside his ear, bringing your voice down to a whisper.

“But I have saved myself for you.”

Neteyam quietly growled, the stir in his stomach increasing tenfold as he thought of what would happen if he took you to Utral Aymokriyä tonight.

“As have I,” he huskily whispered back, giving your neck a quick peck.

His tone made you shudder, suddenly begging for eclipse to come so you two could sneak off.

“GROSS!” the little, forgotten boy exclaimed from the corner, holding his stomach as if he were about to throw up.

“Disgusting! You’re a warrior! You’re not supposed to like this lovey-dovey stuff!” he groaned, pointing to his mouth and gagging.

“Get out of here!” you scolded, turning around and placing your hands on your hips.

But not before Neteyam pulled you into him, your back resting on his strong chest.

“Yeah. Before I start kissing her again,” Neteyam teased, placing a long, dramatic kiss on your cheek, making you giggle.

“GROSSSSS!” the boy loudly groaned in agony, covering his eyes as he ran out the tent.

The two of you laughed at the boy’s antics before you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck once more.

You both stayed in comfortable silence, having a silent conversation as you stared into each others eyes, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.

Just in case you two would have to separate again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as one of your hands find it’s way to Neteyam’s hair, rubbing it in the way you remembered he liked.

“I was being serious before. I have saved myself.”

You gave a light tug to some of his hair, and the man let out a strained groan, using every ounce of his strength to keep him from closing his eyes in pleasure.

You massaged his head so well.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hold you again,” he sighed, tightening his grip around your waist.

You smiled, inching your face closer to his, to the point where your lips were a hair away.

“Then what are we still waiting for?” you purred.

That was his tipping point.

With a growl, he enveloped your lips in a passionate kiss, and you kissed him back with just as much fervor.

Hooking his hands under your thighs, he picked you up, carrying bridal style as he took you the back way out the tent.

“Neteyam!” you squealed, pulling out the kiss and tightening your grip around your neck, keeping yourself from falling.

“Quiet, my love. Or people will hear us,” he smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips before running the both of you out the back entrance of the Stronghold.

Sure, you were serious about what you said. But past Neteyam would’ve never been bold enough to actually go through with it.

He had changed in these four years. He had grown confidence.

It was making something stir in you, even more so as you knew your destination would be Utral Aymokriyä.

This is going to be fun.

[louebel]

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub... 

"... phew ..." 

scrub... poof! 

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..." 

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious. 

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it. 

If only you weren't sick. 

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn." 

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you. 

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary. 

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off. 

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed. 

Or not. 

"Ow, ow..." 

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid. 

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why. 

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you? 

Those sweet memories... 

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you. 

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..." 

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously... 

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood. 

Now? If he saw one inch of your form? 

Sigh. His face always went red. 

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer? 

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting. 

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought. 

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy. 

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough... 

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it. 

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it. 

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you. 

Ugh... 

You wished it could all go back to normal. 

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe. 

"... Okay, I'm done." 

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to. 

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later. 

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in. 

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and — 

knock knock. 

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm. 

You waited. 

... knock knock. 

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work. 

Okay. 

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now. 

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light. 

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them... 

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight. 

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him. 

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes. 

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.) 

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone. 

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself.. 

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you. 

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?— 

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?" 

"Huh?" 

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all. 

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention. 

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you. 

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly. 

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry." 

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape. 

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now. 

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it. 

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct. 

"Well? I'm waiting." 

"..." 

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.  

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage. 

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and— 

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three. 

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis. 

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name. 

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed. 

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy. 

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next. 

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything. 

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—" 

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?" 

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream. 

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it. 

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long. 

"You're cold... Off." 

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued. 

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager. 

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep. 

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him. 

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions. 

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him. 

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think. 

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” 

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary. 

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?" 

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly. 

"Law …'m sorry if I smell." 

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point. 

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh." 

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form. 

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful." 

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines. 

"U- uuh... W- where..?" 

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here." 

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water. 

The second tasted awful. 

"E—eugh..." 

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good." 

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot... 

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases. 

“Do you feel better now..?” 

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you. 

Your question puzzled him. 

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side. 

"What?" 

“I … I missed you." 

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest. 

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...” 

Shit. 

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...” 

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability. 

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..? 

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…” 

"Aargh..." 

Warm. 

"Mmh..." 

It was very warm. Pleasant. 

"Hn..." 

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm. 

The pillow was so nice, though... 

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament. 

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours. 

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch. 

He looked peaceful. 

"... Law?" 

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you. 

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening." 

You were mad at him. You were mad at him. 

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention. 

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit. 

"I'm in my pajamas?" 

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it." 

"..." 

"..." 

Pause number two. 

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant." 

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening. 

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed. 

"You inhaled it, didn't you?" 

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all." 

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks. 

"Y—Yeah." 

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed." 

"O—oh... That bad?" 

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.” 

“Hey—” 

“You're fine." 

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well. 

"Well?" 

"... You ignored me. You made it clear." 

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out. 

"I—I didn't." 

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—" 

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress. 

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you." 

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance. 

You just... didn't know. 

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not!" 

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours. 

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours. 

If he explained, it would've been easier. 

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—" 

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest." 

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not. 

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—" 

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss." 

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep. 

"I... You did nothing that bothers me." 

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part. 

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding. 

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach. 

He couldn't be serious. 

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep." 

"What?" 

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth. 

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose. 

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry. 

"Hey... I—" 

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!" 

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you. 

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him. 

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..." 

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious. 

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't. 

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him. 

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight. 

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings. 

"... You what, Law?" 

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed. 

His hands craved yours. 

"I like—I like you!" 

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed. 

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you." 

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—" 

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances. 

"... Law." 

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—" 

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about... 

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self. 

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize. 

"Law." 

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—" 

Your heartbeats matched. 

"Law!" 

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him. 

"It's... the same." 

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises. 

"Huh? Wh — what?" 

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too." 

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were. 

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer. 

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone. 

All is back to normal. 

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder. 

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer... 

Closer... 

"Closer?" 

"Alright." 

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short. 

How you missed holding it. 

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face. 

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change. 

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait. 

He felt lighter. 

“… Truly?” 

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.” 

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit. 

His eyes glistened. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” 

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return. 

He can take all the time he needs. 

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them. 

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning. 

"Tired?" 

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it. 

"Mm, there were a lot of them." 

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks." 

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it." 

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?" 

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it. 

"... Meet me at my office once you're done." 

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Intertwined

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.

Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

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It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 

Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 

Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 

Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 

Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 

Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 

He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 

But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 

She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 

They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?

That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 

The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 

The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 

“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”

Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 

“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”

She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”

“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”

Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 

He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 

“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”

Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 

“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 

After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 

Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 

Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 

She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?

It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.

Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 

Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 

She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 

At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  

“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 

Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 

“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 

“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 

“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 

Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 

There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 

"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 

As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.

"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 

She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 

With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 

"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 

"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 

Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 

Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 

Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 

That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 

Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 

Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 

Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  

Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 

"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 

Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 

She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 

All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 

He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 

Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 

She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 

He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 

The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 

When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.

Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.

There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 

“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 

Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 

Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 

It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 

"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 

"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”

A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”

His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”

“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”

He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”

“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”

That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 

But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.

Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.

Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 

"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 

Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "

The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 

The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 

He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 

"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 

"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 

She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 

She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 

She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 

At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 

"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 

"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."

Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 

"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 

"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 

He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 

"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."

Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 

He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 

The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 

But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 

After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”

The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 

“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”

A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.

There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.

“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 

She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.

“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 

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