Moxley? Again?

heart to heart

john price x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him. warnings/tags: long term boyfriend!john, john price never finishes his cigars, explicit smut, a little body worship, oral [m receiving], fingering [f], unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms [m], some overstim [m], come eating x2, brief cock warming, idiots in love, porn with minimal plot. word count: 4.4k masterlist a/n: this was born out of me being physically unable to stop thinking about that middle picture being john price, so here we go follow @hier--soirupdates if you’d like to be notified when i share my writing

It hasn’t rained in six days.

Late autumn spins the countryside in its grasp; a warm cloak that sends the leaves golden and the grass dewy. In a small, unfamiliar kitchen you drop teabags into mugs and gaze out the window. Admire the vast acreage that surrounds the cottage, and the marshland beyond that.

The early morning rays are bright and cool, turning the cabinets a washy yellow colour around you as you wait for the kettle to boil.

Everything is quiet, calm. If you listen closely, past the sound of birds chirping and water bubbling, you can hear John’s heavy snores down the hall; still catching up on sleep after a long few weeks away.

When he came through the front door two nights ago, you’d been quietly surprised to see him home so soon. After not hearing much for almost a month, you’d resigned yourself to getting on with things in his absence. A fairly covert operation, you knew, so you’d spent your days waking to an empty house. Working and eating and showering alone and never exceeding the appropriate number of messages you could send him in one day without stirring worry. Little Angus with his long orange tail and his soft whiskers your only company in John’s stead.

Home at last, he’d wrestled out of his heavy boots and draped himself over where you lay on the couch. Soap opera long forgotten on the tele, he’d slipped an arm around the back of your head, held you to his chest and said, Let me take you somewhere.

The kettle whistles and you pluck it from the stove, still smiling at the memory. Douse the teabags in boiled water and watch as the windows cloud with steam. You leave his black, just the way he likes it, but soften your own with sugar and milk. Your toes are numb against the cool tile, and you rub them against your calf in search of warmth. Inside, your body is at sleepy old war with itself. One half longing to be back in bed, or perhaps to have not gotten up at all yet; the other half taking great pleasure in the mundanity of doing things like this for him again, after so long of not. Tap tap tap of an impatient finger against the counter until his tea turns the perfect colour, and then you’re on your way back to the room.

Leant amongst paisley patterned pillows and white linens, John looks a little out of place knuckling sleep from the corner of his eyes. A little too rough around the edges, too big, too hardened for such soft surroundings. In your brief absence, he’s drawn the curtains and nudged the window beside the bed open a crack. A long arm stretches out toward the sill, ashing a cigar onto the small dish he’s balanced there.

Naked as the day he was born, he lifts the cigar to his lips and blinks drowsily at you. Stretches his legs out, the muscles in his thighs straining, curled toes skimming the end of the bed. Eyes wandering, you kick the door shut with your foot and slink to the end of the bed, holding out his mug.

“’Morning,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. Accepts the tea with a soft smile, the skin beside his eyes crinkling as he watches you crawl in beside him. Hands full, he twists an ankle around yours, face pulling up at the feel of your cold skin against his. “Jesus, you’re like ice. I’ll shut the window.”

“Don’t move,” you hush, nestling your head against his shoulder. “You’re right where I want you.”

John laughs softly, warm body vibrating against yours. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You watch him tap his cigar against the dish, sipping your tea and trailing fingers through the dark hairs on his stomach. Enjoy the way his body draws tense beneath your cool touch, goose flesh sprouting across his skin. “Middle of nowhere… unfamiliar town… no one will ever find you. You’re all mine out here, Price.”  

“M’all yours everywhere,” he says, abandoning his cigar in the dish so he can tug on the neckline of your—his—t-shirt. “This proves it, yeah?”

“I suppose,” you smile, lifting your mug to hide behind a sip. He watches you move, calculating and quiet as he sips his own tea. You fidget beneath the intensity of his stare, painfully aware of how well he knows you. That your want, your need, must be painted across every inch of your face.

“Love you in my clothes, sweetheart, I do.” John’s fingers curl beneath the hem of the shirt then, rough callouses tickling over your collarbones. “But you’re makin’ me feel awful naked.”

Heat flares in the base of your stomach and you chuckle, matching smirks splashed across your faces as you sit up and drag the shirt over your head. He watches as you flick it to the floor, gaze darkening as he looks over your body, focusing on the thin grey panties that cover the skin between your thighs. A thick arm curls around your waist, tugging you back onto him, and as you settle there his fingers slip down to fiddle with the band of your underwear.

“Cute,” he comments airily, middle finger dropping under the band to caress the skin beneath it.

Mug discarded off the side of the bed, you put both hands to his stomach now. Tickling his soft skin, playing with the hair there as you lean in and press a kiss to the centre of his chest. And then another, and another, with John simply humming, palm flattening against the small of your back to hold you against his side.

Your lips part, tongue dancing lazily against his nipple. Soft strokes until the flesh is stiffening and you’re practically purring against his skin, drifting across to the other one. You hear the soft clink of his mug hitting the side table, and then John’s hand falls against the back of your head. Thick fingers twist through your hair, playing as you kiss and lick over his collarbones, and the little tugs he gives have a low throb starting up between your legs.

“Feelin’ needy this mornin’, hey lovey?” John asks. His fingers come to the front of your face, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. Big blue eyes watch you pout, cheeks squished between his fingers as you nod.

“I missed you,” you say, turning to press your nose into his palm and inhale the smell of him.

His eyes soften, and all sense of teasing seems to slip out the window. “I know, sweetheart, m’sorry. Come here’n give us a kiss.”

His lips are soft against yours. Warm, and familiar, with a hint of Darjeeling. Pulling you up to straddle his waist, he coaxes your chest down against his and huffs into your mouth at the feel of your nipples against his skin, teeth sneaking out to smart at your bottom lip.

“Thought about you every day,” he mumbles against your lips. “Missed you every second, love, always do.”

You feel something hot and sharp spark behind your eyelids at those words, and flick your tongue against the seam of his lips, pushing it away, not now not now. You go soft and pliant against him; let him guide you through the kiss, coaxing your mouth open with his long tongue as his fingers dance down your spine. When his hand reaches the round of your ass he grips your flesh there, kneading it between his fingers and pushing down so your clothed cunt comes flush with his cock.

“Feel that?” John says, pulling away an inch to nose at your cheek. His cock is heavy between your legs, thick and stiff where it presses against the gusset of your panties. You gasp as he rocks his hips up, grinding against you until the damp fabric slips between your slick folds and rubs over your clit. “That’s how much I missed you, sweetheart.”

As he talks, the hairs on his moustache prickle against your lips, and you find yourself opening your mouth. Breathy moans spill as you roll your hips against his, lathing hot opened mouthed kisses over his jaw.

“Looked at your picture every night,” he continues raggedly, breath hitching as you suck at the hollow of his throat. His cock twitches against you, the slide only getting smoother as more slick spills into your panties. “Thought about comin’ home ‘n’ never leavin’ again, just so I could play with this pretty little cunt whenever I like.”

Your hips stutter into his and you whine, a tiny glimpse of an orgasm fluttering through you just from those words.

“S’yours,” you whisper against his skin, the words he spoke moments before dancing through your mind. “All yours everywhere.”

Faster than he can stop you, you’re slipping off his lap and settling beside him on the bed. Continuing the onslaught, you lick hot, messy kisses over the skin of his neck, across the broad span of his shoulders.

“My big man,” you say tenderly, fingers itching their way across his chest. You skirt your teeth down the middle of his sternum, squeaking a little when he murmurs in enjoyment and presses a hand to your ass again. “I missed your body so much.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me then,” he goads lightly, grunting around a smirk when you sink your teeth into the soft flesh over his ribs in response.

His fingers toy with the material of your panties as you drag your tongue over the dip of his belly button, and when you kiss the soft curve of his lower stomach, nose buried in the dark hairs above it, you feel him grip the fabric tight. You can see his cock in your peripheral vision. Swollen and heavy against his hip now. The tip has turned a pretty shade of dark pink, accented by little streaks of white where pre-come oozes from his slit and glides down his throbbing shaft. With your mouth on his belly, you reach out and wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck,” John grunts, head lolling back against the pillows.

You smile, stroking him slowly as you drag your nose through his thick happy trail, all the way down to nuzzle against the dark thatch of curls above his base. Insistent now, his fingers push beneath the edge of your panties and drag through your slick seam.

You whimper, forehead resting heavily against his skin as he slides two fingers through the wet mess of you. Lewd sounds of your arousal fill the room as John traces featherlight circles around your clit, and your face heats against his stomach, fingers returning to their lazy pace around his length.

The throb between your legs has become a second heartbeat now, so strong that you’re sure he must feel it beneath his fingertips. If he does, he just sighs softly. Lets the thrumming of your cunt sync with the pulse in his fingertips, heart to heart, and murmurs low encouragements as you tilt your head to the side and begin mouthing at his cock.

“Missed my cock.” Your voice is low and unfamiliar in your ears, mouth overrun with desire and spilling your guts before you can stop it. “So pretty, John…”

Circling your entrance with a thick finger, he just says, “I know, love, s’yours. Go on.”

As slow as you can bring yourself to be, you lay gentle kisses down the entire length of him. Wetting your lips and gliding them over his warm, silken skin, before dipping lower and sucking his balls between your lips. A harsh grunt sounds behind you, and, as if in retaliation, he sinks two thick fingers inside you. You moan around his sensitive skin, holding his balls in your mouth and jerking him off until he’s trembling beneath you, broad thighs straining as he tries to hold himself together.

“That’s good, love,” he murmurs softly, almost speaking to himself as he curls his fingers inside you, humming when you grind into his hand. “Need ta get my fuckin’ mouth on you.”

But you just shake your head. Let his balls slip from your mouth with a soft pop before sticking out your tongue and guiding the weeping tip of his cock towards your mouth. Hasty, too needy for your own good, you slip your lips around him and try to take him deep on the first pass. Out of practice after weeks away, your throat constricts and you choke a little around him. So big, so overbearing, you’re too eager to be filled by him that you push and push until you’re gagging and sputtering. Cheeks hot and eyes downturned, you draw back, skin prickling as you hear him say something past the rushing in your ears. Take a moment to catch your breath and ground yourself, fingers tight on his thigh as your tongue swirls around his tip.

“This what you missed then?” he’s saying, collecting your hair in his fist to keep it off your face. “Hm, missed bein’ all full of me?”

“Mhm,” you hum around him, pulling back with a gasp only to press his head against your cheek. Eyes closed, you rub his ruddy tip against your chin, your lips, painting your skin with his precome. Feel the weight of him warm your skin and sigh in quiet delight. And when he groans, exhaling a heavy, ragged breath, you press your mouth around him again, desperate to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Easy, darlin’, lemme see you,” John chokes out, thumbing sliding over the apple of your cheek. “So pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Heat floods your chest, and you drool around him. The words seem to trigger something in your mind, some insatiable desire to please, to make him feel good, because you’re relaxing, sinking your mouth down further on him. A low, drawn-out curse falls from his lips, fingers curling in the hair behind your ear.

Gaudy sounds of sucking and slurping fill your ears, and you would be self-conscious if it weren’t for the way John’s growls met them in the air. Wordlessly, he slips a third digit inside and the stretch brings a dull burn that has your mouth slowing against him.

Your eyelids flutter as his thick fingers stroke at your walls, searching for the spot that makes you spill every time, but your wanton cries of desperation are muffled by the heavy weight of him on your tongue. In slow, measured movements, he begins to shift his hips in time with your head. Feeding his cock to you and grunting when he feels your throat go soft and easy around him, letting him slip further in until your nose buries in the hair at his base.

John watches you, the blue in his eyes almost entirely swallowed by desire fattened pupils. Rakes his gaze over the way your lips stretch around his thick cock, tears dancing on your lashes as you take him in your throat. The heady taste of him is intoxicating, and you can only hold his gaze for so long before your eyes are rolling back, stomach pulling tight as you swallow around him.

Stuffed to the brim with John, John, John. He’s everywhere, filling your mouth, your aching cunt; it sends your heart racing, thighs trembling as your orgasm begins to crest.

Molten heats swims in the base of your stomach, curling and bubbling there as he you ride his long fingers, moaning his name around his cock. But just as you feel everything begin to go tight and tingly, John’s pulling on your hair and dragging you off him.

A thin strand of spit dangles between his tip and your mouth and he snarls at the sight, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he huffs, squeezing insistently at your shoulders. “Wanna feel you on my cock when you come for me, yeah?”

Mind a hazy blur, you let the weight of him fall from your mouth, the hinge of your jaw still burning as you peel your underwear down your legs and spread yourself over his lap. John doesn’t pull his hand away though. No, he keeps his fingers between your legs, pumping them in and out, slowly, as you hover over his cock.

“My girl,” he says, eyes focusing on where the puffy lips of your cunt almost touch his cock. “My filthy, sweet girl.”

“John,” you puff his name, abdomen tensing when he rubs his thumb against your clit. Balanced on your knees and the tips of your toes, your legs shake a bit. Fingers dance forward to touch his shoulder, desperate for an anchor.

You frown a little, swollen lips parted in a torturous mix of desire and confusion, but he just offers a filthy grin and says, “Tell me you missed me again.”   

“Oh, fuck off,” you smart instinctually, lips twitching when he barks a laugh and slips his fingers from your wet clutch, grasp drifting to your waist. “Please.”  

“There she is,” he rumbles, jaw tensing as you glide his tip through your folds, coating him in your slick. A heavy rush of air spills from his nose. “My impatient girl.”

Once he’s got you on his cock, it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.  

He lets you keep having it your way for a bit. Watches, gaze heavy, as you bounce on his cock, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. You squirm on him, face twisted up as you adjust to the thick stretch of him after so long. It burns and aches between your thighs, but you can’t help but keep coming back for more, sinking down on his length faster each time. He tilts his head forward to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against the plush of your breast when you arch your back, crying out at the feeling of his teeth on the sensitive bud.

After a while he slots his greedy lips against yours. Presses hot, sucking kisses to your mouth, swallowing down every gasp and moan that crawls its way up your chest. The bristles of his facial hair scratch at your cheeks, your nose, and you love it. Have desperately missed the way it warms your skin as he presses his tongue inside your mouth and tastes behind your teeth.

Using his hold on your hips, he rolls you against his lap. Meets you thrust for thrust until you start to soak his length, jaw going slack as he growls into your open mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell, love, that’s it,” John groans, fingers tightening on your waist as your cunt pulls tight and hot around him. Thighs shaking, you let your forehead fall against his chest and ride out the flood of your orgasm. “I know, darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.”

Fingers fly up to grip the back of your neck, his other arm snaking around your waist as he continues fucking up into you. His cock presses hot and heavy into that soft, gushy spot deep inside you and you shudder against him, helpless little moans slipping from your parted lips. Face smushed against his hairy chest, you drool a little. Feel it pool between his pecs and smear across your cheek as your eyes roll back, dopamine pounding in your veins as he pushes you relentlessly through the high.

“Gonna let me fill you up?” he’s panting, feet planted on the bed now as he bucks into you, hips stuttering as he sinks closer and closer to his end. “Fuck, I’m gonna make a right mess of you, darlin’. That’s it, lovey, show me that pretty face.”

“John,” you mewl, toes curling against the sheets. “Shit, oh shit.”   

“Christ,” he grunts when you meet his eyes, jaw pulled tight. “So tight, m’ gonna come—”

“Wait,” you mumble suddenly, senses sharpening despite the way your thighs still shake against his hips. John stills immediately, grip tightening on your waist. “In my mouth, I want you in my mouth.”

His face crumples at that, a guttural noise sputtering from his lips as you lift off him and slip down to rest between his legs. He nods, brushing hair back off your face as you sink your mouth down on him, slick tongue hungry on the underside of his pulsing cock. He mutters your name, tells you how perfect you feel as he rocks his hips forward, tip nudging the back of your throat with every careful thrust.

“My sweet girl, doing so good for me,” he breathes, a coy grin on his face and a firm hand at the base of your skull. He holds your head in place as he fucks your mouth with slow, steady strokes. Groans every time you swallow, warm wet throat drawing tight around his swollen head.

“Look at me, let me see those eyes,” he mutters urgently, tugging on your hair until you’re blinking, focusing blurry eyes on his face. He thumbs at the teary streaks on your cheeks and gives a rough, prolonged groan as he begins to spill down your throat. “Fuck, fuck.”

You bob your head as his cock twitches and jerks against your tongue, sucking until he’s filled your mouth with warm come and it starts seeping from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down his shaft. You catch the spill with your fingers, swallowing his thick spend down and then licking what’s left from your trembling hands.

John watches on, chest heaving, and tuts fondly when you whimper, head spinning with the salty taste of him on your tongue.

“Bloody hell,” he exhales after a moment, dragging his knuckles over his face. “We’re never goin’ home.”  

You laugh, drowsily nuzzling your cheek against the inside of his thigh as his cock softens against his stomach. John cards his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, legs still twitching and eyes drifting closed as he tries to catch his breath. Lips slick with spit and come, you lay soft pecks along his sweaty skin. Smile when he shudders, fingers tightening against your scalp, but doesn’t pull you off.

There’s a hot flush of red splashed across the skin of his neck, his cheekbones, and his stomach is still warm to the touch when you reach out to graze his soft flesh. Sated and sleepy, he wets his lips and continues to play with your hair. Lovingly curls strands of it around his fingers and tugs gently before letting go, only to pick a new strand and do it again.

Overcome with emotion, and unable to stop yourself, you lean forward and take his soft cock back into your mouth.

John hisses through his teeth in surprise, eyes flashing open.

You don’t do anything crazy yet. Just let him feel the warmth of your mouth around him, the soft glide of your tongue against the ridge around his head. When he doesn’t pull you off after a second, you give him a little suck. Not hard—just enough to make his hips flinch down into the mattress and his legs pull tight at your sides.  

“Fuck,” he exhales, face pinched. His hand trembles against your head. “Fu—hang on, fuckin’ hell, love.”

You peer up past his stomach to where his mouth hangs open and his eyes are shiny and wide. His nails scratch against your scalp. Needy little nudges that blur the line between too much and not enough. You hum in pleasure around him when a choked sound falls from his mouth. Feeling a little mean, though, you pull back, licking your lips and smiling apologetically.

“Sorry,” you murmur, face hot as you squeeze his thigh. “Just want to love on you a little longer, that’s all.”

He hums deep in his chest, brow creasing a little as he brings his big hands to cup your face. His thumb swipes at your chin, smearing the saliva there, and you part your lips for him. He makes a sort of pained sound as he slots the digit into your mouth and watches you hollow out your cheeks out around it, swirling your tongue and sucking like you’d done to his cock just moments ago.

“Christ,” John breathes. Something needy and desperate glints in his eye, and he slips his finger from your mouth. Grips the back of your neck and gives a short nod. “Gonna be the death of me, ain’tcha?”

Guided by his hand, you take him back in your mouth and sigh in relief. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you rest your face against his hip, taking deep breaths through your nose and just holding him like that for a while. You can hear the way his breathing goes haggard above your head; short sharp bursts of air huffing from his nostrils. Sensitive as he must be, John lets you have your fun, shivering and spiting low curses as your touches get increasingly needier. And when you begin to suck softly at his length again, he seems unable to help the way his strong legs writhe against the mattress.

He says your name, rough and urgent, when you pull back only to snake your tongue out against his slit. Eyes fluttering open, you look up at him as you lathe your tongue down his length, smiling at how red his face has gotten, at how he seems to be holding his breath. John’s cock starts to swell and stiffen beneath your touch.  

“D’you want me to stop?” you whisper, tracing the blue vein that pulses down the side of his length with your tongue.

“No,” he pants, head lolling from side to side. “Fuck no, gorgeous. Just go easy on me, yeah? It’s ohh—” he winces “—s’a lot.”

You nod understandingly and press a kiss to his tip, smearing the fresh pearl of precome there against your lips. He’s fully hard now, throbbing when you wrap your fingers around his thick base and wrap your lips around his head. A guttural sound rips from his chest and he’s tugging at your hair. For a moment you pause, unsure, but then he’s pushing a little on you. Nudging you closer, further, so you take him deeper and deeper until his tip is nudging against your throat.

“Fuck,” John gasps, hips stuttering against your palms, sensitive cock twitching against your tongue. “S’too much, love, it’s—oh fuck.”

With a ragged grunt his cock pulses in your mouth, and a little spurt of come dribbles from his head. You moan, eyes closed, and swallow tight around him, milking every last drop of spend from his cock until he’s winded and clumsily pushing you off of him.

Breathless, you fall flat on the mattress beside him, feet dangling off the end of the bed. John’s broad palm cradles the back of your head still, a comforting weight as you wipe your face against the sheets.

Ears pricking, you realise it’s begun to rain outside. Soft patters of liquid that knock against the window, thin rivulets that drip down to splash and splutter against the sill. Long forgotten, his cigar sizzles and dies beneath the spray.

“Another tea?” you murmur finally, pushing up onto your elbows.

But with a soft, startled laugh, you find that John’s eyes are closed, chest rising with steady breaths; already back to sleep. Shaking your head a little, you smile fondly at his lax form, and consider closing the window. You settle instead for pulling the duvet from the corner of the bed. Curled against his thick side, you settle the blanket over the two of you and lay an arm over his stomach, content to have a proper lie in after such a busy morning.

thanks for reading, i'd love to hear what you thought x

Night to Change | Rutger McGroarty

summary: when Rutger is cleared for sexual activity all he can think of is the team physio.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, oral (fem and m receiving!), underaged drinking, swearing.

word count: 3.87k

authors note: I forgot how much fun it is to write for Rutger! we all have to thank @fantillisdaylight again for letting me bounce this idea off of her. I straight up loved the middle parts of this, I wrote it at like 2 am and got all the chaos that came with it.

The boys were happy to be back.

Rutger felt like he was on cloud nine coming back as the captain of the USA wjc team that won. Not only was the hockey team hosting a party to celebrate the first win of 2024, but it was also their champions that held their medals proudly. For most they were just happy to be back, even if it meant that they were in their uncomfortable beds that colleges seemed to love so much. Yet for Rutger it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, being cleared by the physio’s for sexual activity and he was ready to explode “you okay Rut?” Your hand pressed against his back pulling him out of the daze he was in.

His throat went dry as his eyes went wide seeing the concerned look on your face “just need a drink.” He confessed forcing a smile onto his lips, you were the girl he had a crush on since freshman year. You were the sweet student physio for the hockey team who made it impossible for the boy to fall in love with.

Tonight you were in this black dress with your white converse as your hair had been freshly curled “you want some company for that?” Your offer made him freeze watching your rake your fingers through your hair “you can say no Rut.” His silence made you frown causing you to turn your foot wanting to leave him.

The boy however was quick to wrap his hand around your wrist “just didn’t think you’d want to come with.” Rutger confessed seeing your sorority sisters sending you both a smirk as they knew all about your feelings for the sophomore.

It was originally just the mere thought of him being cute and sweet. But when he got injured and was then spending almost every day. It was tough for feelings to not come into place and you were both fools for ignoring the way you felt about each other.

The day had been dreary, rain coated the glass panes of your window. You took the day off after you learnt your boyfriend had cheated on you. The poor weather did little to make you feel better this resulting in you practically rotting under your blankets all day. Or at least that was what you were doing until the sudden sound of knocks at your window caused you to groan.

Emotions served worse than a hang over as you wrapped your blanket around your head looking to where the noise came from. Your jaw dropped seeing Rutger perched on the rose wall that climbed up your side of the house “oh my god.” Your hand cupped your mouth as you held back a laugh pushing off of your bed making your way to him.

You were quick to open your window as it let the rain fall in “what on earth are you doing here?” A dry laugh left your lips as the boy pushed his now soaked hair out of his face “missed you today.” The new year had barely started and preseason training was all that the team had their minds on.

It warmed your heart that he cared “needed some space.” You shrugged dropping your blanket “but come in before you get a cold.” You ushered him inside caring little for the rules of your sorority.

Rutger had never seen your room yet if you had asked him this was exactly how he thought it would have looked “you’ve been crying.” He frowned seeing your bloodshot eyes that brought out the clumps your mascara had sticking to your eyelashes “what happened to ya?” The hockey player asked noticing the empty pint of ice cream that sat next to your bed with an unopened bottle of vodka “Jake cheated on me.” Your star boyfriend of three years and the captain of the wrestling team was disliked by the entire hockey team.

In that moment Rutger wanted to go hunt him down in his frat and punch his face in “are you okay?” Your sniffles reminded him of the fact that you were still suffering from a heartbreak “honestly she thinks she took my man but she just took my problems.” You pointed out sitting on your bed.

The boy let a laugh escape his lips as he sat next to you “I don’t think he ever appreciated you.” Rutger sighed placing his hand on your knee “you know I’ve already been through the pity speeches from everyone else.” You pointed out which made him frown.

His thumb was soft against your skin “because he was an ass.” His nonchalant tone made you laugh “y’know you could have texted me.” You confessed letting out a yawn as the rain soothed your mind.

Rutger shook his head as he raked his fingers through your hair “wanted to see you.” His tone was sickly sweet. It made you crawl to the head of your bed only alarming the boy “come lay with me.” Your words made him worried as he knew he would be a deadman already then he’d also be a loved up man too.

Because of course whilst his intentions were pure, his feelings were powered by love “look I’m already sad so don’t leave me lonely too.” You warned shooting him a serious look to highlight that you weren’t kidding. All he did was nod shuffling up the side of your bed before he was then sat next to you.

He kicked his shoes off allowing him to lay on your bed for less than a second before you practically crawled into him “can I do anything for you?” Rutger enquired rubbing his hand over your back. But as he looking down expecting a response you had already fallen asleep, clearly needing it.

It calmed his mind to see you so peaceful and asleep as you lay there “goodnight y/n.” The boy mumbled leaning down to kiss your head before he lay back in his original position, leaving two hours later as there was no sign of you waking up.

Sentiments of that night echoed in his mind as you smiled at him “always like to be with you.” He surely had to know how his words made your knees buckle “you want to lead the way f’me then?” You locked your hand with his as he nodded.

Rutger didn’t hesitate to pull you through the crowd “now what kind of drink am I getting for the lady?” His voice was louder trying to get over the speaker that was in front of them “whatever you want baby!” You laughed kissing his cheek.

For the reminder of the night you were practically stuck by the boys side “how the hell did she get him on that dance floor?” Luca furrowed his eyebrows seeing the sight of Rutgers hands gripping at your hips as your ass was against his shorts “because she’s hot and he’s obsessed with her.” Ethan laughed as she turned around with a grin on her face singing along to the song that was playing.

Both of you were feeling a buzz as alcohol roared through your systems “fuck you’re so pretty.” Rutger confessed letting his head drop to your shoulder “such a sweet boy ain’t ya?” Your lips smacked together as your fingers ran through his hair enjoying how he moved in your rhythm.

His “mhm.” Sent vibrations through your body making you force your thighs together “been thinking about how much I’m gonna miss you.” The song ended changing into something slower.

You knew you were progressing your career getting into an NHL team as a physio and you didn’t know what the next year held for the boy “you still got me for a couple of months.” Rutger pointed out turning his head up to look at you “yeah but you’re no longer gonna be in the office.” The confession made your cheeks burn.

Part of you hated admitting that you were going to miss the boy more than you were meant to “you telling me I’m your favourite hockey player?” A grin painted his face “you’re my favourite boy Rut.” You corrected him letting your lips hover over his.

Rutger felt his throat grow tight like he could no longer breathe “you are playing a dangerous game.” He warned licking his lips like it was going to help “you gonna stop me?” You cocked your head letting a smirk form on your face as you waited for his answer.

But instead the boy stayed quiet “let’s get out of here.” He offered holding his hand out to yours “mine is just down the road?” He smiled like you read his mind.

It took the two of you less than five minutes to sneak back into the silent sorority building. Not that it mattered anyways, the president already knew she was going to keep her mouth shut about seeing you leave with the sophomore. Rutger did his best to keep his hands to himself until you shut the door to your bedroom “you want to finally kiss me pretty boy?” You ran your thumb over his lip.

Rutger wasn’t ashamed of the whimper that left his lips “please.” He nodded gripping his fingers at your sides when you pulled your legs over his thighs to straddled him.

The air in the room grew hot “you get any special attention in your injury?” You wanted to make him sweat, to make him almost work for the pleasure that the mere thought had your mouth watering. The boy shook his head “only thought about you.” The confession made you smile as your heart swelled doing flips.

Your hand scratched at the nape of his neck “always such a sweet boy.” You mumbled as you kissed his lips. The moment was soft as he melted into your touch letting his lips graze yours “fuck.” He moaned feeling you nip at his lower lip.

You pulled away with a smirk “think it’s about time I give you a reward for being such a loyal boy.” You dropped to your knees going eye level with his aching bulge that had been pressed against his shorts since you two started dancing.

As you licked your lips looking back up at him Rutger couldn’t help but grow embarrassed “you don’t have to.” This was the moment that he was so used to picturing before he wrapped his hand around his cock in his room imagining that it was yours instead.

You shook your head hooking your fingers under his waist band of his shorts “need you to push your hips up for me.” You we’re glad that he was fast as you added as you were barely able to get his shorts and boxers pulled down two or so inches “you’re so big.”You almost complained feeling as though you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

The tip of his cock was swollen with precum oozing from it “please baby just do something.” Rutger begged seeing you stare at him “since you asked me so nicely.” You smirked dropping your head down to send kitten licks to the mushroom head of his cock.

The boy groaned clenching his hands in your duvet “such a desperate boy ain’t ya?” Your hand wrapped around his boner making it almost impossible for him to stay up straight “god you’re gonna kill me.” The hockey player gasped as he watched your lips wrap around him.

Rutgers eyes fluttered at the sight as you began to control your movements letting yourself take as much of him as you could “fuck.” His hands gripped at your hair doing its best to form a makeshift ponytail.

You hollowed your cheeks out allowing yourself to take more of him as your nose hit his pelvis bone “this is heaven.” He moaned as you tilted your head in a way that let you take even more of him into your throat. Gagging noises echoed off of your rooms walls “I’m gonna.” Rutger cried out as you replaced your mouth with your hand.

It pumped the boys cock as his thighs began to bounce to meet your hand as your other cupped his balls “you wanna make a mess?” You taunted pushing your knees up so that you could kiss him “so bad.” Your cherry lipgloss made him feel drunk all over again as his eyes screwed shut.

Rutgers jaw went slack but he couldn’t find a way to get any words out “please.” He begged letting his lips graze against yours “want to to make a mess f’me okay?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer you as you replaced your hand with your mouth once more going back to swirling your tongue around his cock.

Rutger tugged at your hair not knowing how much longer he would last with your new movements “fuck fuck fuck!” He cried out feeling his lip shake as his release shot into your mouth.

You lapped up all of his release as you continued to help him ride out his orgasm “sugar I’m gonna need you to stop before I come again.” His confession make you smile as you let his cock slide from your mouth with a pop.

The boy watched you swallow his release letting slide down your throat as your saliva coated his cock “god that was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” Rutger gasped watching you get up to straddle his thighs “there is plenty more from where that came from.” You teased running your fingers along his jaw.

You loved watching him squirm “think it’s my turn to make you feel good first.” Rutger announced as he pecked your lips “you don’t have to.” You shook your head wanting to focus on him.

Yet that was no match for him as he flipped you over laying your head on your pillow “now I think we need to get you out of some of this.” Rutger pointed out as he kicked his shorts to the floor.

A smirk formed on your face “what do you suggest then?” It took him seconds to pull your dress off “wow.” He muttered at the sight of you in your bra and panties “knew you were getting fucked tonight?” The dark blue lace complemented your skin making his mouth water.

You nodded with a soft smirk coaxing your lips “took a risk.” You joked seeing the boy settle between your legs “such a pretty girl sugar.” There was a new nickname that he seemed to adore going to kiss you.

He loved the way you responded as his lips moulded into your “please make me feel good.” You mumbled spreading your legs open when you drove your hips up to meet his “won’t make you wait any longer then.” The hockey player nipped at your jaw letting a trail of sloppy kisses down the valley of your breasts to your stomach.

He stopped when he was met with the waistband of your panties “been thinking about you like this for so long.” His thumb massaged a circle on your hip “what’s the point in waiting any longer?” You cocked your head as your teeth caught your lower lip.

Rutger couldn’t find a way to say no “want to make you feel so freaking good.” He announced pulling your panties off of your legs letting it add to the pile that was on the floor “god you’re gorgeous.” The boy murmured thinking he was dreaming at the sight of you.

His lips grazed each of your thighs spreading his attention between them both “been thinking about you all through our sessions.” He confessed stopping at each side “wondering if I’d ever get you like this.” The boy gasped propping his face by your cunt “god Rut do something before I-” you were cut off when he licked a stripe up your slit.

It made you jump when you felt his teeth nick your clit “fuck!” You whined making him freeze with concern “you okay?” He furrowed his eyebrows wondering if he had gone too far.

You shook your head “Rut baby how many times have you gone down on a girl?” Your question made his cheeks turn red “you’re safe here.” You reminded him as you sat up straight still with him between your legs.

Rutger chewed at the inside of his cheek “twice but with one girl.” The girl he had slept with in his freshman year was privy to both of those attempts “you gotta go softer baby.” You confessed gripping at his hand.

You weren’t against helping to teach him “you feel this?” You asked pressing his thumb against your clit “yeah.” Rutger nodded watching how responsive you were to his new movements.

He continued with his thumb but then let his fingers tease your cunt as he let them tease your core “just like that.” You muttered beginning to feel your eyes flutter “then you wanna suck where your thumb is.” You explained letting your head drop back to your pillow.

Rutger nodded to himself as he continued to thrust his fingers into your cunt letting your walls hug his fingers “there you go.” You moaned as he swirled his tongue around your clit causing your fingers to latch to his hair.

The boy groaned at the sensation sending shivers through your body “god Rut.” You complained gripping your feet in the sheets as you squirmed against him.

Rutger treated the moment as though it was his last on earth. As you were so focused on the feeling of his tongue against your clit that you didn’t notice him insert a third finger into your cunt “god fuck don’t stop.” You only had your vibrator to help you in the recent months after your break up.

So this was now a welcomed change for you as that device only got you so far “so sweet sugar.” Rutger mumbled arching his hand in a way that let him hit even deeper in your cunt like it was possible.

You watched him through hooded eyes as he smiled looking up when the feeling of your clit against his tongue made his cock grow hard again “I’m so close.” Tears formed in your eyes as your thighs squeezed the sides of his head, only acting as encouragement to push him to go even faster.

Your hands left him and went to your bra pulling the straps from your arms “please Rut I need it.” You begged grazing your thumbs over your nipples as your eyes rolled back into your head. White spots painted your vision as moans escaped your lips.

Your cunt clenched around him in these spurts as you reached your high “fuck that was so hot.” He let his fingers slide into his mouth to taste your release.

Rutger watched as you took a moment to breathe catching your breath “think you could give me one more?” He asked trying his hardest to avoid the sight of your breasts when you reached behind you to take your bra off “lay down f’me and I’ll show ya.” You wriggled your eyebrows making him pull his shirt off of his chest leaving you both naked.

His last act before he went to lay down was reach into his wallet as he grabbed a condom “here.” He muttered handing you the silver package “lay on your back f’me.” This time when you kissed his lips it was soft and almost caring as you ran your fingers against his jaw.

You wanted to make sure the boy was comfortable as he nodded laying his head flat on your pillow “trust you.” His words made your heart grow warm “you’re so sweet Rut.” You giggled as you shook your head.

You went to straddle his lap when your phone began ringing. It was Ethan by the stupid ring tone he had given himself weeks prior just to piss you off “that’s nothing.” You shook your head ignoring it as you went to kiss the boy again.

Both of you tried to ignore it yet as you heard the phone go off again it made you roll your eyes. You reached down to grab your phone quickly answering it “you better be dying.” You grumbled running your fingers along the boys chest.

The Canadian laughed “Luca got into a fight with Jake and now he looks like he has a broken nose.” Your eyes rolled at the news as you looked at Rutger who grew concerned “and what do you want me to do about that?” You asked trying to ignore the way he kissed at your neck.

The junior went quiet for a second “you are kind of our physio and basically the team mom at this point.” Ethan spoke in a duh tone “is his nose still bleeding?” You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you heard the inaudible noises that Luca let out.

Rutger grew alarmed watching you get up “I’ll be there in five.” Realistically you were the only one who could check him out without him getting into any kind of trouble with the actual staff of the team “thank you.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief hearing you hang up.

The American in front of you on the bed however had a different reaction “we gotta go check on Luca.” You explained watching him smile “what?” You furrowed your eyebrows trying to understand what was going on.

But instead he just laughed “it’s cute you care for us all sugar.” He confessed as he got up following suit “so you’re not mad?” You felt relieved as the boy stood almost a foot taller than you.

His hand tucked your hair behind your face “not when I know I’ll get you soon.” Rutgers voice was barely above a whisper as he kissed your lips.

It turned out that Rutger would only get one final chance with you in your sorority. The night before graduation left you desperate to have your way with him.

Yet it seemed that luck was going to be on your side because just as Rutger was starting to settle in to Winnipeg after a year away from you when you traded Michigan for Florida. A job came up you couldn’t say no to “you tell me you’re single but you have never been out with us once.” One of his teammates pointed out making Rutger laugh.

The question came off innocently “got a girl I still like from back home?” He shrugged watching his teammates walk into the locker room as it gave him a chance to think about you “hope that means I still have a chance Rut.” You swore you’d never seen him happier to see you before.

It took him seconds to run over to you before he got the chance to embrace you like a crazy man “Sugar what are you doing here?” He couldn’t help but spin you around with joy upon the realisation that you were indeed real “someone had to come take care of you pretty boy.” You shrugged with a smile more than happy to be back with the boy.

Lucky Shorts

This is a story about the luckiest day of your life.

It all started when you went to a rugby match which wasn’t your usual style as you had no interest in the sport. The people playing the sport on the other hand, well let’s just say they had bodies built to be watched by people like you.

If eyeing off the large men wrestling with each other wasn’t enough for you, then seeing one of the star players peel off their tight, sweaty shorts from their giant, bubble butt and huge, athletic legs and toss it into the crowd after the match certainly was. The icing on the cake was that those very same shorts landed in your hands. It was as if he knew just how desperately you wanted them.

As soon as you got home you went into your room and pressed those sweaty shorts into your face. You were in total bliss as you breathed in the intoxicating, ripe odours of the shorts, imagining that big, sweaty stud being in the room with you. You revelled in the fantasy of him smothering his stinky shorts into your nose, his face painted with a mix of pride and disgust as you got off on inhaling his potent musk.

“How pathetic,” you imagined him saying. “Not even the sweatiest, smelliest players on my team can handle my post-match stench. Yet, you love it.”

You had to try on those shorts. Even if they were going to be a bit big for your smaller frame, you needed to feel the damp fabric against your ass.

You took the shorts away from your nose, it wasn’t easy to say goodbye to the scent, and pulled them up over your black underwear. Huh, it was a tighter fit than you expected. The sweat-soaked material wrapped snugly around your butt and you could feel the moisture soak into your underwear. You pinched at the shorts and it was so skin tight that all you could feel was the heavier, wet underwear fabric beneath.

Wait, the shorts weren’t just skin tight, there were actually no shorts on you at all. Of course there were no shorts, you had been in your room in just your underwear the entire time. What were you doing again?

You aimlessly wandered around your house trying to think of what you were supposed to be doing. You eventually sat down on a seat in the living room, scratching your empty head in confusion.

“Bro, if I swung that way I’d definitely hit that ass up.” It was your roommate. He was straight as anything, and a total bro. He was staring at your butt; your big bubble butt. “Why do you always have to stick that massive thing out like that, you’re going to make me hard one day if you don’t be careful.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t make you hard already?” You joked, leaning your body forward and sticking out your dump truck ass a little further. “An ass like this is very popular with boys like you.” You loved teasing your straight roommate.

He took a cautious step forward then pinched his nose in disgust. “Your ass reeks bro, have you just come back from the gym?”

The gym, of course! That’s the thing you were planning on doing this whole time. You quickly got changed into your gym gear, throwing your black underwear on the floor of your room, and rushed out the door.

The gym felt like home to you. You couldn’t wait to lift up some weights and get your sweat on, and boy did you sweat. You were only on your first exercise and already a large sweat mark had formed under the band of your grey compression shorts.

As you continued your workout you kept getting sweatier and sweatier. It wasn’t long until your shorts were completely drenched. 

The best part were the slaps of encouragement your ass would receive from the gym bros. The slaps would make a satisfying squelch noise and then your bubble butt would jiggle like jelly. This was usually followed by a comment fawning over your dump truck ass or congratulating you about how sweaty and smelly you were (to the gym bros this was a sign of a good workout). To say you were getting a lot of attention was an understatement. You were enjoying every second of it too, even making sure to bend over and stick your butt out when one of your jacked fans walked past.

Once you finished your workout you headed straight home without showering. Why waste all of that beautiful sweat you worked so hard for?

When you arrived home you stumbled across a very fortunate surprise. It was your roommate, and he was on the floor of your room sniffing the sweaty black underwear that you left there.

“Now are you sure I don’t make you hard?” You said with the smuggest grin. He turned around to meet your gaze and he was in complete shock. His face turned bright red and he couldn’t get a single word out. “How pathetic.” You said, changing to a deeper and more condescending tone. “Not even the sweatiest, smelliest men in the gym can handle my post-workout stench. Yet, you love it.”

You lifted up your shirt to show him your spectacular body that glistened with sweat. “No point denying it, you're in love with me.” You were literally talking down to him. “And most of all, you’re in love with my sweaty body.”

Your roommate sprang up from the ground and began frantically licking the crevices of your hairy abs. You grabbed his head and pushed it into the damp abyss between your two amazing pecs. Moans of pure happiness reverberated into your chest, which only made you push his face in harder.

Once you felt he was done with your chest you shoved his body to the ground. “It’s time for the main course,” you said with a grin. You turned around so your massive butt was facing towards him. Your shorts were so drenched that sweat was dripping off them onto your housemate’s body.

“Yes please, I need a taste!” Your housemate begged.

You lowered your behemoth ass onto his face. Both cheeks spread around his face and touched the floor. His face was completely trapped in the dampest, rankest, nastiest, foulest cage imaginable. You couldn’t tell if he was screaming in joy or screaming for release but either way the vibrations felt amazing as they rippled through your cheeks. How lucky that he has a stinky, sweaty housemate who is willing to use his fat, pillowy butt to indulge his fantasies.

Baby Daddy chapter 2

Note: requested by the anon who called me pookie! ;) follow up to chapter 1!

Warnings: 18+!! fluff/smut/angst. toxic relationship.

pairing: modern!Sihtric x you (f) (slight hint of you x modern!Sigtryggr)

summary: You and Sihtric had to be good parents and celebrate your son's birthday.

wordcount: 4,7k

Masterlist

The Juice.

'Okay, I'll see you at five,' Sihtric said on the phone.

'Five,' you confirmed, 'not six, not seven. At five.'

'Yeah, yeah-'

'And don't you dare bring one of your sluts!' you snarled and hung up.

You groaned and threw yourself on your couch. You had to meet up with Sihtric, your somewhat ex-husband, who was very much your baby daddy. Odin, your little boy of three years, looked just like him by now, with his piercing gaze, cheeky smile, and his dark curls. Except Sihtric had recently shaved off half of his dark curls, which you found out when you had misunderstood each other and both ended up at the school's playground to pick up your son. And Sihtric's new look was unfortunately rather sexy. But then you thought he was always sexy, to be honest, even after you two broke up about six months ago.

You had married Sihtric and more or less officially split up less than two years after your wedding day, but neither of you ever finalised the divorce. In truth, you both knew you still loved each other and wouldn't want to be with anyone else. The problem was just that Sihtric was hot, as well as hot headed and stubborn, and he often did not clearly communicate his needs, or anything else for that matter. And you were exactly the same. But you were also quite chaotic and messy, something Sihtric couldn't stand he found out. When you were together you had great times, but the way you two argued and bickered most of the time was not good for anyone involved. When you split up, Sihtric had told you to keep the house for you and Odin, while he moved out to a rather fancy apartment only a few blocks away. 

The first few months you still did a lot of things together as a family, like going on weekend trips, to the movies and to theme parks. But you and Sihtric would always drive each other nuts and end up highly irritated by the end of the day. Which then led to fucking each other's brain's out somewhere fast before your son would notice his parents had snuck off. It just wasn't good and it took all your strength to create some distance between you and Sihtric overtime.

The family quality time became less when Sihtric started dating again three months after the split. Well, not really dating, he was just in his whore era. And you pushed him away more and more as it was upsetting to see some different girl by his side every time you saw him. You were hurt because the only lady by his side should be you. And over your dead body that one of his hook ups would meet your son. 

So during your phone call just yet, you reminded Sihtric once again that he was not to bring a girl to your house, where you'd discuss your boy's fast approaching birthday party.

Sihtric still had the key to your house so he let himself in while you were in the kitchen. You only realised he was there when you heard your boy scream 'Daddy!' as loud as he could. And when you walked into the living room, you found Sihtric playing pretend wrestling with Odin. You sighed and chuckled at the sight. Moments like that made you wish that you and Sihtric could just get along like a normal couple. Because after everything, Sihtric was genuinely the best father any kid could possibly ask for, and you hated how it always went wrong between you both eventually. 

Because there he was, dressed in black sweatpants and a black shirt, so effortlessly handsome and still giving you butterflies after not really having seen him the past two months. And Sihtric didn't know that in the meantime, you had gone for a drink with the other Dane, Sigtryggr. But nothing had happened between you and him, so you had no reason to tell your not-so-ex-husband about it.

'Hey,' you said, making your presence known.

The wrestling stopped as they both snapped their heads towards you. And Sihtric quickly picked up the distracted kid and held him upside down for a moment while the boy screamed out with laughter.

'Hey, pookie,' Sihtric said with a sly smile, then put Odin back on his feet again, who was quick to run off upstairs.

Sihtric walked around the couch towards you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hand lingering on your waist a little longer than was necessary. But that was just Sihtric, always subtly flirting with you on a good day. And you lied if you said you hated it.

'How are you?' he asked, eyes darting all over you, 'you look good.'

'I'm fine,' you smiled faintly, 'you?'

'Not bad,' Sihtric shrugged, then followed you into the kitchen while checking out your ass, and he sat down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

'Good,' you said and sat down across from him, 'so… Odin said he wants a monster truck themed party.'

'Monster trucks?' Sihtric furrowed his brow, 'those things are still cool?'

'Apparently so,' you grimaced, 'I looked up some decoration stuff already, and there's quite a lot to get with monster trucks on them.'

'Well that's settled then,' Sihtric said, then yawned and stretched, 'guess he wants monster trucks as presents too?'

'Yes, or anything Spider-Man related.'

'Spider-Man?'

'Yes, Spider-Man is also still cool,' you chuckled.

'Should I dress up as Spider-Man?' Sihtric asked half serious.

You snorted and shook your head, 'I don't think anyone is waiting to see that.'

You half lied. You could already imagine what your "ex-husband" would look like, and the thought was enough to make your cheeks heat up.

'Hey,' Sihtric pretended to be offended, 'you know I'd look good in one of those outfits, don't lie.'

'I won't deny that,' you snickered, 'you always had a good body.'

'Oh, really?' Sihtric asked with a smug face, 'you still think about my body, hm?'

'Sihtric, don't start,' you chuckled and looked down at your feet.

When you looked back up again, you found Sihtric was still looking at you, and you stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. The air suddenly became thick with tension, and you both wanted nothing more than to rip each other's clothes off, right there and then. You didn't have to say it, you could read each other like no one else could. You flashed Sihtric a cheeky smile, and he shifted slowly in his chair, trying to suppress his arousal while he bit down on his lip.

'You still think about me?' he asked after a moment, his smooth, honeyed voice barely louder than a whisper. 

He reached for your hand over the black marble counter, 'Because I still think about you,' he husked.

His tattooed fingers laced with yours while your eyes never left his mismatched pair. You didn't answer. You couldn't possible tell your ex, your seriously hot and sexy ex, that you could only get off at the thought of him fucking you. And none of your few one night stands after him had ever fucked you as good as he does. But Sihtric knew that too. 

The way you never spoke about another guy, or never even introduced a new guy to your son. Sihtric knew he had nothing to worry about. He was a hypocrite in that regard, he fucked around as much as he could, even if it was only to try and forget you and to make you jealous, but the gods forbid if you ever met someone else.

'Are you seeing someone?' he suddenly asked as he gently rubbed his rough thumb over your hand.

You sighed and shook your head, 'I don't have to tell you anything about that,' you said calmly, to which Sihtric squinted his eyes slightly, 'but no, nothing serious.'

'Nothing serious?' Sihtric frowned and leaned in, 'what does that mean, hm?'

He kept his curious eyes locked on you, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth while he still held your hand. And before you could speak, Odin came running downstairs. You quickly pulled away and turned, making haste to pour yourself some juice while Sihtric was being distracted by your son, who proudly showed him his drawing of a monster truck he had just made for his father.

'Are you?' you asked Sihtric the same question, and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

He looked up at you and wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue as Odin climbed to sit on his knee.

'Nothing serious,' Sihtric said curtly, which told you he already got rid of his latest hook up and found someone new for the night.

'Daddy stay dinner?' Odin innocently grinned.

'No, honey,' you smiled at your boy, 'daddy has other things to do tonight,' you sneered and glanced at your ex, who clenched his jaw.

It was early in the morning when Sihtric let himself in your house again, carrying a bag with monster truck decorations he had picked up from the store at your request. Today was your son's birthday party, and you needed help decorating the house.

'Hey, pookie,' Sihtric rasped and kissed your cheek.

'Jesus Christ, Sihtric,' you grimaced and shoved him with your shoulder.

'What?' he asked, clearly confused and agitated.

'Can you at least fully sober up, take a shower and make an attempt to wash off some woman's cheap perfume before you show up here?' you scowled and snatched the decorations out of his hands.

Sihtric sighed, raked his hand through his messy curls, and he finally allowed the regret of the night before to settle in. He always felt horrible the day after another random hook up. He didn't want anyone else, he only wanted you. But he couldn't have you, not anymore, not the way he wanted. So he'd get drunk, have sex, and hoped he would have forgotten all about you in the morning. But it never happened, it never worked. And he always ditched whoever he had slept with as fast as he could.

While Sihtric was deep in his regret, rubbing his eyes while he sniffed, you had been taking in his appearance. You knew this look all too well, as you had seen it countless times before. You knew exactly what he looks like after a night of rough sex, because he'd look exactly the same after your nights together; sleepy and his hair messy, while wearing comfortable grey sweatpants and a loose fitting white shirt. The only difference was that his eyes were empty now, whereas they used to be full of life after being intimate with you. And you hated how he still looked so good, even when you knew he had been with someone else. While it should have been you.

'Are you still drunk?' you asked.

'What? No,' Sihtric clicked his tongue, 'I'm not drunk anymore.'

He huffed and sat down on your couch. He took out his phone after he felt it buzz in the pocket of his sweatpants, and he quickly blocked the number of last night's lady who was texting him now, asking where he was.

'Classy,' you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing when you watched him tap his screen a few times with slightly shaking hands, 'when will you grow up?'

Sihtric looked up at you, but didn't answer. You sighed and realised you shouldn't take your own pain out on him, you were separated after all. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted, as long as it would not interfere with the relationship he has with his son, and so far it had never done that.

'Just… come help me,' you said and pointed to some flags that needed to be hung from the ceiling.

Sihtric neared you and, once close enough, he cleared his throat.

'Pookie, I miss y-'

'Can you grab me a chair?' you cut him off, not wanting to hear his words because they hurt.

Sihtric exhaled sharply and did as you asked. Then, after about an hour you were finally done decorating. You told Sihtric to go home and take a shower, while you left the house too to quickly pick up the cake you had ordered at the store.

The party was already busy when Sihtric showed up again, holding two bags full of presents, which he placed on the table in the dinner area, along with the rest of Odin's still unwrapped gifts. He looked even better than earlier that day; his half shaved curls were fixed up, he looked completely sober again, and he was wearing tight fitting black skinny jeans, with a comfortable looking black hoodie on top. You spotted your ex from outside as you stood in your backyard, and you quickly made your way over.

'Finally,' you muttered as you neared him, 'we have to sing happy birthday and cut the cake, but I can't let Odin blow out the candles without his dad there.'

'Thank you for waiting,' Sihtric said, then grabbed your hand as you passed him, 'pookie?'

You turned and looked at him with questioning eyes.

'I'm sorry about earlier,' he said and pulled you closer.

'It's fine,' you sighed, allowing his hands to settle on your waist while you adjusted the hammer pendant he wore around his neck, 'it's your life, it's none of my business what you do. I just don't want to know about it. And I definitely don't want Odin to know about it.'

'I know,' Sihtric whispered and cupped your cheek, 'I'm sorry I was a little reckless this morning. You know I never mean to upset you, or our son,' he leaned in and brushed his lips faintly over yours.

'I know,' you breathed, your hands lightly tugging his hoodie, 'sorry if I was a little mean this morning. I have no right.'

'You know that no one compares to you, pookie,' Sihtric whispered, his thumb caressing your cheek as he circled his arm around you, 'no one fucking compares to my wife.'

'Sihtric, we're not really marrie-'

'Shh-shh,' he hushed you, 'I need to taste you, pookie.'

And just when Sihtric leaned in further to kiss you, you were both startled when someone cleared their throat suddenly.

'You two are back at it again, I see?' a thick irish accent sounded, making you both jump in your skin.

'Fuck,' you mumbled under your breath and pulled away from your husband, quickly turning towards the fridge to get the cake out for your son.

'Finan,' Sihtric greeted Odin's godfather with a curt nod, and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

'So you're together again?' Finan frowned.

'No,' you snarled.

'Yes,' Sihtric said at the same time.

'Sihtric, we're not!' you hissed.

'We're still married, sweetheart,' he said bitterly.

'And still separated, handsome,' you snapped back, just as bitter.

Finan rolled his eyes, as he already knew where this was going when he felt the clear sexual tension that lingered between the two of you.

'Just don't fuck in the kitchen,' Finan grimaced, 'that's nasty.'

While your son was playing in the backyard with his friends, and your friends and family were all busy stuffing their mouths with cake, you had enough of the chaos and went upstairs to fold some laundry you had left on the bed.

And just as you went upstairs, Sihtric walked towards the kitchen and caught a glimpse of you leaving the party. He didn't think much of it and walked up to the refrigerator, to get a juice pack for Odin. And when he wanted to return to his son who was still outside, Sihtric saw your phone screen light up, which you had left in the kitchen. And he couldn't help but read the message as it was right there.

Sigtryggr: can't wait to see you this weekend

Sihtric frowned and read the message again.

'Who the fuck is Sigtryggr?' he mumbled to himself, and another message came in.

Sigtryggr: last time was fun ;) x

Sihtric became furious. What guy had the balls to text his wife during his son's birthday party, sending winking emojis and a kiss? Oh no, Sihtric wasn't having this. And in his fury he forgot he was holding Odin's juice pack, and it exploded in his tight, angry grip, splashing all over his hoodie and jeans, and his face.

'Fuck!' Sihtric hissed.

He threw the exploded juice pack in the sink, washed his hands and dried his face with a towel, and went upstairs.

You were in Odin's room, putting away the recently folded laundry. And as you were so caught up in organising the clothes, you didn't hear someone coming up the stairs. Sihtric walked into the spare room, where he had installed the laundry machine and dryer himself a few years ago, and he took off his clothes. He threw his juice soaked clothes in the laundry machine and put it on a short cycle. And as he was so caught up in his own anger, he forgot you were upstairs too when he walked into your bedroom, wearing nothing but his tight fitting boxer shorts, and he sat down on your bed, waiting for the laundry to be done.

'Jesus Chri- what the fuck, Sihtric?!' you yelled when you were spooked to find someone in your bedroom.

Your folded laundry flew up in the air because of the scare you got, and landed in front of your feet in a messy pile.

'Fuck! Shit!' Sihtric hissed, also startled, 'I- I'm sorry!'

'What are you doing?! Why are you in my bedroom?! And why are you naked?!' 

'I'm not naked!' Sihtric said, annoyed, and he pointed at his boxers, 'I spilled juice over my clothes, okay? I'm washing them now on a short cycle, then I will put them in the dryer.'

'For fuck sakes,' you groaned, your heart still beating out of your chest.

'Gods,' Sihtric said, 'calm down.'

You huffed and picked your clothes up from the floor while Sihtric sat back on your bed. You threw your clothes next to where he sat, and glared at him when you grabbed the first shirt, only to refold it again, all while he eyed you up and down.

'You left your phone in the kitchen,' Sihtric suddenly said.

'I know.'

Sihtric hummed at your answer and brushed his hand through his hair. And you tried to not look at his stupidly delicious body, while he just sat there, leaning back and showing off his good looks. But then he got up, slowly closing on you until he had you cornered.

'What are you-'

'Where are you going this weekend?' Sihtric asked, his voice low, almost threatening.

'What? That's none of your business.'

'Are you seeing someone?'

'Sihtric,' you sighed and rolled your eyes, 'again, none of your business.'

You tried to move away from him, but he kept you cornered.

'Who the fuck is Sigtryggr?' Sihtric asked and took your chin, 'hm? Why is he texting you?'

'Oh, you're reading my texts now?' you scoffed, staring up into his eyes.

'Answer me.'

'I don't have to answer you.'

You tried to shove Sihtric away, but he pinned your arms down against the wall and pushed his body up against yours, towering over you.

'Does he get near my son?'

'No,' you said, irritated, while feeling a heat rise in your core.

'Good,' Sihtric said, refusing to back away, 'does he get near my woman?'

'I'm not your woman.'

'You're my son's mother,' he breathed, his gaze trailing down to your lips and back to your eyes, 'you're mine, pookie, still my wife.'

'Maybe,' you pushed him away, 'if you weren't so stubborn and stupid sometimes, I would still be yours.'

'So you still want me then?'

'For fuck sakes, Sihtric… you know I do. Or do you not remember that I told you I'll only ever want you when we broke up?'

He stepped closer again and chuckled.

'Yeah, I know,' he husked and trailed his fingers over your arms, to your neck, and cupped your cheeks, 'I remember. And I also remember exactly how you used to beg for my cock.'

'Yeah?' you purred, cupping his arousal.

'Yeah,' Sihtric breathed, 'and I remember exactly what it felt like to be inside that tight pussy after you begged me for it. Fuck,' he laughed softly, grinding his erection against the palm of your hand, 'yours is the best I ever had. No one compares.'

'Not even your slutty hookups?' you taunted.

'Oh, pookie,' he chuckled, 'it's still your name I moan when I cum inside someone else.'

You felt your breath hitch when Sihtric pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you while pushing his hard cock against your stomach.

'I never loved any of them,' he confessed, 'they're merely a temporary fix.'

'I know,' you whispered when your lips almost touched.

'What do you know, hm?'

'I know the way you look at them,' you said, moving your hands up his chest while Sihtric backed you up against the wall, 'and I know it's not the same way you used to look at me.'

'Hm,' Sihtric teased, grazing your ear with his lips, 'is that so?'

'Mhm,' you hummed, feeling his warm lips drag over your neck, 'there is no fire in your eyes when you look at them. No hunger, no passion,' you paused, moving your hands up his neck, into his hair, grabbing his curls firmly, 'no possessiveness,' you chuckled at his moan when you tugged his hair, 'you don't care for them.'

'You're right,' Sihtric smiled, 'I don't. I don't care about any other woman,' he pulled back and grabbed your chin again, locking eyes with you, 'and how could I, when I still jerk off to your pictures?'

'And I still finger myself to our videos,' you admitted.

'Yeah?' a sly smile appeared on his face, 'which one do you get off to?'

'The one we made in that hotel, in Spain,' you grinned, feeling his hands back on your waist.

'Yeah?' Sihtric chuckled at your cheeky reveal, 'you kept that video?'

'Of course I did. It was good,' you giggled, running your hands up his chest again as both your breathing became heavier, 'you looked so hot that holiday.'

'Hm, that was a good fuck indeed,' he sighed, and shoved his leg between yours, pushing up your skirt, 'and you looked so fucking sexy in that bikini thong. I had to ravage you before we had dinner that night.'

'And you ravaged me good,' you bit down on your lip and grinded against his thigh.

'How about we reenact that video?' Sihtric husked, his hands grabbed your ass firmly while he felt your soaked panties on his bare skin, as he enjoyed you grinding up against him.

'Will you stop seeing other women?' you asked, playfully tugging the elastic waistband of his boxers before you pulled them down.

'Will you block whoever the fuck that other guy is?'

You chuckled and pushed him slowly towards your bed, 'Are you jealous?' you asked and pushed him to sit down.

'Of course I'm jealous,' Sihtric scoffed and took off your panties, then pulled you in his lap, his twitching cock pressing hard against your core, 'no one gets to touch you but me.'

'Oh, really?' you teased, grinding your wet folds over his leaking tip.

'Yeah,' Sihtric growled softly and spanked your ass, 'I'm going to fucking mark you all over,' his fingers dug in your thighs, squeezing your warm flesh, 'I'm going to ruin you for everyone else. You're mine only.'

'Am I?' you provoked, tracing his lips with your thumb.

'You're still my wife,' he growled and flipped you over.

Sihtric got off you, turned you to lay on your stomach and spanked you again, causing you to let out a moan, which was followed by a soft giggle.

'Yeah, you like that, huh?' your husband laughed as he massaged your reddened skin, 'I'll make you remember who you belong to.'

You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. You grabbed his hair and pushed him down on the bed, then climbed on top of him.

'You want to have me but you can't handle me,' you purred.

'I can handle you, lady,' Sihtric hissed, 'it's you who can't handle me.'

You silenced him with a slap to his cheek, to which Sihtric laughed.

'Do that again,' he dared you, with a grin.

When you raised your hand to slap him again, he grabbed your wrist mid-air, and he pulled you down to him. He grabbed onto the back of your neck and crashed his lips onto yours, easily finding access inside your mouth with his tongue while you moved to sink down on his cock. A moan escaped both your lips at the feeling of each other, and it didn't take long before you were both moaning and cursing under your breath, while fucking each other like wild beasts, all while your whole family and group of friends were downstairs to celebrate your son's birthday.

Sihtric flipped you over again, taking you from behind, relentlessly, while pulling your hair and grazing your ear with his teeth.

'No one feels as good as you,' he hissed.

'F-fuck me h-harder,' you murmured, eyes nearly rolling back at the sensation of your husband fucking you after months of being deprived of each other.

And Sihtric fucked you, hard, with both love and anger, and he covered your mouth to silence you as you screamed out his name when you finished. And only seconds later he moaned your name when he finished inside you.

Sihtric joined you back on the bed, dressed in just his boxers again, after he had thrown his clothes in the dryer. During your animalistic sex session, the laundry machine had finished too, moments before you both did.

You had gotten dressed rather decently again too when Sihtric pulled you in his arms.

'Whatever happens to us,' he whispered and kissed your hair, 'know that only you have my heart. Forever, pookie.'

'And mine belongs to you,' you said softly, tracing the visible veins on his arms.

'I wish we could make things work.'

'As do I. But this… this is exactly what's wrong,' you sighed, 'we argue, we fuck, we cuddle, we love, and repeat. I just don't understand where it goes wrong. We clearly love each other but… I just don't know.'

'I…' Sihtric began hesitantly, 'I- I've done a lot of thinking the past half year. And I think I'm just terrified of getting stuck in a rut. I love our son, and I love you, I really do… but I just feel… when we're together, as a family, I just feel suffocated after a while. Like I can't escape that life, you know? There was never a moment for me to just… take a step back, have some alone time. And that scared me, and then I became agitated and confused. And… I felt guilt and hatred towards myself, cursing myself because I needed time away from my family, thinking I'm just a bad… father.'

'But why did you never tell me this?' you asked, 'taking some time for yourself is normal, Sihtric. It doesn't make you a bad father, we all need our space. You should've just told me instead of… picking fights with me.'

'I know,' he sighed, 'I was just afraid you'd think I didn't want to be together, or that I wasn't really ready to be a dad…'

'If anything, you are a good father. I always knew you were ready for that.'

'Yeah, a good father maybe,' he shrugged, 'but what about a good husband? I want to be a good husband too.'

'Then stay,' you whispered and cupped his cheeks, suddenly feeling desperate for him, 'stay with us.'

'I want to,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'there's nothing I want more than for us all to be together.'

Sihtric captured your lips in a soft kiss, and you were startled again by someone clearing their throat. You both looked up and found Finan leaning against the doorpost.

'While you two were busy,' Finan said, angrily, 'your son was crying because he was promised a juice pack by his dad!'

'I spilled it,' Sihtric said, '... by accident.'

'You spilled juice from a kid's juice pack, that's designed to not… spill?' 

'Yes,' Sihtric said, irritated, 'my clothes are in the dryer now.'

'Aye, okay. Seems like daddy spilled his own juice too,' Finan sneered and walked away.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27

Super Nova (Chapter 3)

Larissa Weems x OC

Adelaide’s POV

You could feel the anxiety swirling through your body as you looked up at the man standing over you. Panic and fear filled your very being as you clutched at your now ruined dress, the cold wood floor harsh against your bare legs.

“How many times do I have to tell you to cover up!?” He roared as you shrank back, pressing yourself into the wall behind you. You let out a gasp as he grabbed your shoulder harshly and dragged you up.

“No, no, no, please, I'm sorry please, I won’t…” You whimper as he towers over your cowering form, anger filling his eyes. 

As he shoved you towards your room you stumbled over the tatters of your skirt, reaching out to catch yourself and grabbing his arm. He lets out a bellow of rage as you feel his negativity in your soul, his emotions blending with your own. Anger clashing against fear. Panic and rage meeting with sparks. But the strongest of all was a deep loathing, overtaking every emotion, filling you and wrestling with the deep sorrow in your heart.

You let out a scream as he shoves you away from him into the wall of the hallway. You collapse to the ground as glass breaks around you. “Don’t use your fucking freakishness on me again!’ He bellows as you shrink away from him. Your eyes stared emptily into the broken glass of the picture frame that fell with you.

Blood drips from a cut on your temple, partially obscuring the picture below you. Smiling faces look back at you, faces that feel so familiar yet so very wrong with those emotions. Your fathers face had never smiled as long as you knew him.

The other face you recognized only from the few pictures around the house, always smiling in the frames, however, when you looked in the mirror all you saw was your own sorrow. A sad mimic of your mothers being. Her only legacy was tarnished by the very reason for her death.

You see the glass around you shake as your father stomps closer, and you close your eyes in terror. Just as his boot meets your side, you feel a shift, a touch of unfamiliar warmth on your wrist as a new set of emotions fills you. Worry, care, concern, all so out of place in your body, blending with the blackness inside you.

You sit up suddenly, pulling away from the warmth. Those emotions don't belong in you, you would destroy them.

With panicked eyes you blink away the memory of your father, quickly taking in your surroundings. A warm car, quiet radio, the rain pattering at the window, and the scared face of your boss, sapphire eyes filled with tears, once perfect mascara now leaving tracks down her face.

“No, no, no, I'm so sorry, I’m so sorry, Larissa, I’m so sorry.” You whimper, pressing yourself back against the icy cold window, away from her warmth and her touch.

You know what would come if you felt the brush of those fingers again. The same thing that always came. Disgust, fear, repulsion. You could practically feel them already. You quickly scramble out of the car, falling onto the harsh gravel as the rain falls around you. You could feel the ever-present press of your own emotions threatening to overtake you.

Barely even on campus and you had already ruined it.

Your breath comes out in sharp gasps as you hear the car door open and close, followed by quick footsteps on the gravel. You couldn't even look up at your new boss as your emotions fell over you like the rain soaking through your clothes.

Despair, disgust, loathing, and the ever-present fear filling you as you huddle there, terrified of what's to come.

You feel more than see her as she kneels next to you. You shift your body away from her warmth, the hard gravel cutting further into your palms as pain joins your other swirling emotions.

“Adelaide, my dear,” the tall woman whispers as she shifts closer to you. You look up at her in shock, her face is filled with concern as she takes in your huddling figure.

“I’m so sorry…” You whisper once again as she looks down at you, even in her current position she towers over you.

Slowly, as if approaching an injured animal, she stretches a hand out. You stare into her eyes as she moves closer, no sound except your heavy breathing and the pitter-patter of the rain around you. You let out a sharp breath, your eyes falling closed as her soft, warm hand makes contact with your cheek.

Emotions once again swirl around you as you brace yourself for what's to come only to let out a gasp of shock. Your eyes open wide, staring into her face as you sense her. Next to your fear, you feel concern. Your panic is met by care, the only negativity in her person is despair but even this was tinted with warmth. It was not the despair that swirled through you every time you looked in a mirror but rather the despair of not knowing how to help someone. 

You closed your eyes once again, a tear slowly making its way down your face at the unfamiliar feelings swirling inside you. Without even realizing it you found yourself leaning into her hand, seeking out more warmth until you found yourself enveloped in her arms.

Her hand now replaced with her warm cheek on your forehead as you cried into her, exhaustion seeping into every part of your being as your eyes fluttered closed. Slumber took hold of you as you felt her warm breath across your ear. “Oh my dear, what has happened to you?” She murmurs into your hair before you lose connection with the waking realm.

college matt.

part 5.

by the 8th lap around campus you could barely keep your eyes open as you looked down at your phone and read ‘4:00’ on the overly bright screen. you were yawning, looking down at the ground as you strolled around and could feel your eyes constantly shutting until suddenly you collided with someone, hitting them in the shoulder as one of your airpods flew out of your ear, glasses fell to the ground and your bag slipped off your shoulder. “fuck sorry!” you exclaimed, bending down to the floor to pick up your lost items, feeling like velma from scooby doo as your hand scrambled across the cold concrete, pedantically searching for your glasses, the dark night sky really not helping your vision. “here you go y/n” a manly voice muttered, as he passed them to you, giving you a hand up from the floor.

it was matt. he had his red tartan pj bottoms on, a black hoodie and dirty air force, his hair was messy and ruffled and he had his overnight bag with him. you looked away, embarrassed that he saw you look like such an idiot “thanks matt” you said as you took them out of his hand placing them back where they belonged, finally being able to see the details of his face again, the slight stubble that had grown out, the curly wisps that fell over his eyes. you quickly realised you were staring and felt a soft blush hit your cheeks.

“what are you doing out so late y/n, it’s not safe, do you need me to walk you home?” he asked, with a tone of genuine concern in his voice “oh you know, just getting my steps in” you replied letting out a soft laugh, “i thought you and meg were having couple bonding tonight” you questioned, suddenly reminding yourself of their sexual escapades that she had so clearly reminded you of the whole day prior. he lifted his arm to scratch the back of his head, looking down a little “do we have to talk about her right now?” he said, with a slight desperation that implied “y/n can we literally talk about anything else”. you assumed it hadn’t gone to plan and left the topic, “wanna do a lap with me?” you asked already beginning to walk ahead, looking back behind your shoulder to see if he would follow. and of course he did, quickly catching up to your steps. “how could i ever say no to you y/n’ he replied, “you can’t”, you giggled to yourself and he smirked looking down at you, strolling in the crisp, cold night. “take my hoodie y/n, it’s freezing out and you’re wearing nothing”, you were about to deny yet he was already stripping it off his frame, you couldn’t help but stare as it lifted up the t-shirt he wore underneath, revealing his boxer line and snail trail, you looked away quickly so that he wouldn’t see the smile that grew on your face or the rose colour your cheeks began to turn. he handed it over to you and you put it on, instantly warming up and secretly smelling it a bit, admiring the scent of his cologne.

you discussed why pasta is better than pizza, why blonde is one of the best albums ever released and why your major is so obviously harder than his, walking past your house’s front door multiple times. you raced each other from one tree to the other, him beating you every time, and attempted wrestling to prove you did indeed have impressive strength in your arms. at your last attempt of wrestling him, he managed to catch your leg, tripping you up and you both fell down the floor, laying beside each other laughing so hard until your chests hurt.

as you laid beside each other on the freshly mown campus grass, you both turned so that your bodies were facing. noses only inches apart. he lifted his hand over to you, brushing off the strands of hair that had fallen onto you face and were covering your glasses, tucking them behind your ear. your breath hitched and heart began to pound. matt touching you was a sensation you tended to long for, a sensation you had had dreams about. and here he was, by your side, enjoying your company and revealing your face so that he could look at it fully. you wanted to feel how soft his lips were so badly, what the warmth of his breath would feel like, what his hands would feel like wrapped in your hair as you couldn’t get enough of the taste of each others spit.

you both noticed you had kept eye contact for too long and quickly shifted your bodies so you were facing up at the sky. “which star is your favourite?” he asked, breaking the silence, moving his position slightly so that your arms were now grazing each other. “probably that one there” you pointed, as you both stared at a large, glistening star. it was mesmerising. “that’s actually not a star, that’s jupiter you’re pointing at” he said, laughing at his comment a bit “i used to be really into space when i was younger” he admitted, you looked over at him and saw a pink flush at his cheeks ‘god he’s so beautiful’ you thought. but instead, said “you’re such a nerd” pushing his arm, teasing him. “fuck off” he said through a grin, laughing and pulling himself up from the ground, stretching out a hand for you. he helped you up and you began to stroll again.

“okay home time” you said as you began to approach your house’s area for the final time. “fine” he huffed, not willing to admit to you that he doesn’t want this night to be over. “last person to the front door is a loser” you shouted, sprinting as quickly as you could to be the nights winner. you reached the doorstep and felt him drag you back by your waist, lifting you up from the ground so that he could get there first. “i win” he said as he laughed, looking down at you with a smirk, “cheat” you muttered, squishing his cheeks with your cold hands to wipe the smile off his face, but it didn’t work, if anything it made it bigger. “i do actually have to go to sleep now”, you said opening the door and handing him back his hoodie, feeling the cool air hit you immediately, only just realising how cold you were. matts eyes glanced at your hard nipples, they were perky and prominent as the band t was so old it was almost transparent “uhhh- yeah bye y/n”, giving her a wave he turned around quickly and made his way back to his house, panicking as he felt a warm growth in his pants.

when he got home he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking about you, your tight shorts and how they gave you a camel toe, allowing him to see the shape of your pussy lips, your hard nipples and how badly he wanted to feel them in his mouth so he could suck on them. he had to relieve himself. he got up some photos of you that he had collected on his phone from the times he had been over in their dorm, you bent over in the bathroom, you in a thong when you were getting dressed and didn’t think he could see, you with your legs spread as you practiced her yoga on the bedroom floor. he began to wank his cock that was already dripping in precum, quietly moaning your name, stroking faster and faster, imagining it was your hand rather than his, he closed his eyes tight as he felt his cock twitch and came quickly, splattering his phone with his own cum, which left the image of you look like you had his jizz dripping down you, an image he had fantasied about frequently.

Bones, Body, Soul.

A Jeff Hardy story. (Ch.4)

A dislocated knee.

One single injury from one single match and Lemmy's wrestling career was pushed to the side. It had happened so suddenly, the entire mood of the whole stadium changing so fast as the EMTs rushed out to help them, the Hardys and Steve Austin following shortly after. It had only been a small match meant to be around eight minutes tops, but more likely around five to make Luna look better like every other jobbing match. But instead, Luna had gotten a little too rough and thrown Lemm out of the ring at just the right angle, causing their left leg to bounce right into the metal ring steps. Unfortunately, because Vince is an asshole, he wouldn’t let their dad ride in the ambulance with them because he had a match in thirty minutes, so Jeff quickly hopped in before Matt could even think to do so, refusing to have Lemmy go by themselves. Not that Lemmy would’ve known anyways, they had blacked out the second their head bounced off the floor.

A bright light in Lemmy’s eye forced them into consciousness with a groan. They moved to put their hand up, trying to block the ringing sound in their ear but instead, Jeff grabbed it and held it in his own.

“What the hell’s going on?” Lemmy tried to look around as they croaked out the words, only able to see the bright, white metal of the painted ambulance ceiling.

“You got hurt Lemm, you’re in the ambulance. C’mon their tryna ask you stuff, gotta try to listen, alright?” Lemm only groaned again and tried to cover their ears again but finally responded to the EMT’s questions when Jeff only held their hand tighter.

“What’s happening? I can’t fucking feel anything Jeff, what’s going on?” Their voice tightened, eyes going glossy while they tried to find some sort of relief in Jeff’s presence.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Hurt your leg, you’re gonna be alright, I’m right here. I’ve got you.” His hand that wasn’t holding theirs went up to hold their face. Jeff brushed the hair out of Lemmy’s face, just like they had done to him in their car rides, and plane rides, and waking up next to him and Matt on the couch of the Hardy house, and every other day since 1992.

“They're not gonna let me wrestle, are they?” The tears in Lemmy's eyes started pouring, a small sob leaving their mouth.

“Don’t worry about anything like that Lemm, you’re hurt.” Lemmy only started crying more. Jeff’s lips met their forehead in an attempt to give some sort of comfort along with the nonstop praises.

“They're not gonna let me wrestle, Jeff.” Lemmy started shaking their head under his hand. “What-what am I supposed to do? They won’t- they're not gonna…Jeff..” As more sobs continued bubbling out of Lemmy's throat, Jeff gave up on trying to stop it and used the hand that had been used to brush their hair back to rub their cheek with his thumb, trying to let Lemmy know he was there.

Lemmy sat in the hospital bed staring blankly at the tv, the sound of Jeopardy filing the small room. They tried to watch what was left of Smackdown but Jeff- who had left, hoping to find a Dr.Pepper to try and make Lemmy feel better- thought it would just make them feel worse, so Jeopardy it was. The heavy metal door quickly swung open revealing their father who had clearly left the stadium right after his match.

“Hey, dad.” A sad smile set of their face as they looked up at their father with puffy eyes.

“Hey, Lemmy.” He took a seat in the chair Jeff left unhabited. “They figure out what happened on yet?”

“My kneecap popped out of place and moved a bunch of bones out of there places too. I guess a vein or something popped too, so its worse than what it normally is. Its still out of place they just pumped me full of pain killers.”

“Christ..should’ve known something was gonna happen to your knees with all the shit mine do. God, I’m sorry kid, I should’ve been paying attention.” His hand went up to his forehead as he spoke, quickly blaming himself.

“No! No, it’s not your fault. My knees have been hurting for a while, but so has every other part of my body, If anyone should’ve been paying attention it’s me. Plus you're always on the road and I barely see Uncle Scott 'cause I'm always at Matt and Jeffs, let alone you.” The door opened again, and Jeff with a Dr.Pepper in hand entered the room. He gave a quick smile and raised a hand in Steve's direction, handing Lemmy the bottle before sitting in the chair on the other side of Lemmy.

“Thanks, Jeffro. Hey, I think the doctors supposed to come back and tell me when i’m supposed to have surgery cause they hadn’t really figured that out yet. It could take awhile though, so like, you can go man, it’s fine.”

“I’m not going anywhere Lem, I’ve been here too long to give up now.” Jeff and Lemmy smiled at each other, Lemmy whispering a thank you. Steve stood up with a sigh.

“Well, I’m supposed to go let management know what happened so they can figure out whats going on with your debut. I’ll stop by later, call if you get out alright?”

“I will. See you dad.” He ruffled Lemmys hair as they spoke before making his way to the door.

“So, um, thanks for riding in the ambulance with me. Sorry about all of uh, that.” Lemmy fiddled with the thin bed sheet, embarrasment creeping through them. Jeff scooted farther up in his chair, grabbing their hand to get their attention.

“Dallas. You don’t have anything to be sorry about, you had no clue what was going on and found out the one thing you’ve been working for your entire life is being pushed back. It’s fine to be sad about that.”

“Ok, well I get being sad about it but I had a complete meltdown and cried all over you.”

“And I let you because I care about you and I love you. Stop being sorry and let people do nice things for you once in a while, alright?”

“..Fine, I guess.” Lemmy let out an exagurated sigh and an eye roll. Jeff softy hit their shoulder. Once again, the door opened. This time it was finally the doctor.

“Alright, I’ve been told that the nurse who was supposed to keep you notified on your situation had to help with something in the ER. So here I am. You were supposed to be in surgery two hours ago but we have a limited amount of surgens. Fortunately, one of them just left surgery and will be able to perform surgery on you immediately. If that isn’t something you’re ok with, you would have to wait until tommorow.”

“Oh..um, okay. Would I get to go home tonight if I went into surgery right now?”

“Yes, as long as you would have someone to drive you home and look after you for the night.” Lemmy put their hands up to their face with a loud sigh and rubbed their eyes before looking over at Jeff.

“Would you, um..would that be ok with you?”

“Of course it would be. You do what you’re comfortable with, I’m gonna be here no matter what.”

“Um, okay. Yeah, right now is fine.” Lemmy let the doctor know with a nod.

“Alright, I’ll let them know. A nurse should come in and give an IV soon.” The doctor quickly left, leaving Jeff and Lemmy alone again. The pair sat in silence, the voice of the Jepeorady host invading the quietness.

“Well, I guess I’m going into surgery now.” Lemmy looked over to Jeff, anxiety clear in their eyes. Jeff grabbed their hand for what seemed to be the umpteenth time.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise. You’re gonna have surgery, and then you’re gonna go home with me and we’re gonna lay in bed all day and watch movies and play GTA. You don’t have anything to worry about, everything's gonna be fine.” Lemmy let out another sigh at Jeffs words, this time the anxiety leaving their body. They scooted down a little in the bed, moving their torso forwards to lean onto Jeff. Jeff’s hand left Lemmy’s as his arms moved to hold them, rubbing up and down. His head moved to sit on top of her chin.

“Thank you, Jeffro.” Lemmy whispered into his shoulder.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Jeff whispered back.

Look at me go! Updating in a month instead of in four :) I’ve not the happiest with this but I really like the part in the ambulance. The ending is kinda super cute tho. @joeyfilth <3

the power of love pt two | stranger things ; s. harrington

A/N ; So this is the second part to the thing I posted for Steve yesterday, I think? Yeah, it was yesterday. I wasn't expecting to have another part quite so soon but like.. Inspiration hit. And I was in the mood for some like.. domestic-y fluffy type stuff, so here we are. As I've been writing this I've been bombarded by thoughts / images and headcanons for this duo, that's not weird at all, right? Psst, if you're curious, you can totally ask me.Only if you wanna, it would make me happy and I could probs talk and ramble about them all day, oops rip.

Pairing ; Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem reader

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ;  part I can be found by clicking. This chapter takes place at least two weeks after part I. As previously stated, none of the Upside Down and it's unholy terrors will be happening here, the time frame for this is 84 (s2) just after his breakup with Nancy. Yes, Dustin and Steve will become friends, but they start off a little wary.

Tag List ; @musichealsscars @aries-arcade @hcloangcls @allelitesmut and I'll throw out a bonus tag to @rampagewriting -feel free to ignore if you want, bb. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including Stranger Things, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; reader is not wearing pants -and also probably not a bra... but is wearing an oversize shirt, massaging, thick af sexual tension, lots of internal pining, domestic type fluff / friendship ? That's it.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

From inside your house, Steve could hear Led Zeppelin playing at an almost ear-splitting volume. He’d already knocked two times and he was about to knock a third when Dustin peeked out of the open garage and motioned him over. Led Zeppelin changed to Van Halen inside. Steve wandered into the garage. Dustin opened a door that led into the kitchen and yelled out over the music, “Gremlin!”

From the top of the counter, you glance back  over your shoulder at Dustin. Almost the second you see Steve leaned in the doorway awkwardly, with his books and notebooks, you want to crawl in a hole and die because yet again, he’s caught you pantsless.

To be fair, it’s like Russian Roulette to an extent because the second you’re home, you usually tend to start stripping down to get as comfortable as you can. The shoes followed by your bra is the first thing to go. Then at some points, your pants or shorts or whatever you’re wearing as a bottom happens to come off. Then you’re finding the oversized shirts you own, the ones you can practically swim in, and you’re putting those on.

Today’s chosen shirt was an old Black Sabbath shirt that belonged to your mom’s oldest brother Tim. She’d stolen it from him when he lived with your mom and dad for a while before you were born and then you just kind of stole it from her.

Steve reaches out and lowers the volume on the little boombox sitting at the end of the counter he stands closest to. You find the pan you were looking for but you have to stand to reach it because it’s not one your mom uses often at all.

You pump your fist in victory when you’ve gotten what you think is a good grip on the pan and steady footing on the counter but somehow, you weren’t steady enough.

And yet again, it’s as if Steve is there before your brain even fully processes what’s about to happen because you haven’t even started to really fall yet and he’s caught you, holding you bridal style in his arms.

Whether you choose to admit it or not, being this close to him definitely throws you into a bit of a frenzy. He stands you on your feet and you sit the pan on your favorite eye.

“You like grilled cheese, right?” you ask the question as you gather cheese, bacon, butter and bread, lining them up on the counter near the stove. 

Before Steve can answer, Dustin speaks up. “You like her grilled cheese. Just trust me.”

Steve nods.

It’s not as if he has any sort of home cooked anything waiting for him  at his parents because they’re never home. When they are home, they’re always out on dates. Or fighting and on different sides of the house with a stony silence hanging heavy in the air.

It’s nothing like the atmosphere he feels in your house. Warmth. Coziness. It’s inviting and for once, a parent other than Tommy’s mom actually seems to like him. Twice he’s been over so you could tutor him and twice, your mother has not only asked him to stay for supper and a game or two of dominos, but she’s also sent home leftovers with him. Which, yes, were definitely appreciated because a guy can only eat pizza or diner food or the processed shit he grabbed just for convenience when his parents left grocery money before leaving town on another long trip.

“Dustball, damn it. I just mended those jeans, you little doofus.” you motion to your brother’s jeans when you happen to glance over and notice that he has yet another burn hole in the denim. “Go up and find somethin else to wear. Leave ‘em on the end of my bed and I’ll fix them again later. Mom’s not made of money, damn it.”

“Okay, alright. The hell am I supposed to do, weld without pants? We’re not all feral nudists like you, gremlin.”

“I am not a feral nudist. I just happen to think bras, pants, underwear and shoes are all bullshit.” you flip your brother off and point to the stairs. He’s about halfway up when you  think about the fact that the damn kid probably has at least three days worth of dirty clothes in the hamper and your mom’s worked back to back all nighters at the hospital where she’s an RN.

“Hey! Bring down all your dirty clothes. All of ‘em. I’ll put it all on to wash.”

“Want me to grab yours too?” Dustin asks. 

“No, I’ll get mine later.” you call up to him.

This leaves you alone in the kitchen with Steve Harrington. And as you start to fix the sandwiches, you can feel him staring. Finally, when it’s just too much, too intense for you somehow, you look up at him.

“What?”

Steve chuckles wordlessly.

The puppy comes rushing down the stairs and you bend down to sit on your knees on the floor, scratching him behind the ears as he stands and puts both his front paws on your shoulders so he can really get in there good and cover your face in little puppy kisses. Steve pulls out one of the wooden stools sitting at the island and sits down.

“Nothing.” he finally answers. You pull yourself up and slink over to the sink, washing off your hands with soap and water. You start again putting sandwiches together and at one point, you don’t even realize Steve’s not sitting on the stool anymore. You find this out when you turn around to grab a spatula and flip one of the sandwiches in the sizzling pan and you find yourself body to body in front of the stove with Steve towering over you.

“Is there uh… Anything I can do?”

As he asks the question, he gazes down at you. And he really tries not to stare too long at your eyes because they seem to have this habit of sucking him in or your lips, because the more he does that, the more intrusive thoughts like grabbing your jaw and kissing you pop into his head and he’s still hell bent on not even trying because Nancy messed him up that bad and he knows it’s too soon, he just… can’t control where his mind goes or how often it goes there. And he can tell himself it’s just a touch of his old habits and wanting to sleep with you coming back again but deep down, he knows it’s a lie.

There’s something different this time. It’s a rush but it’s also scary as hell for him because he feels ten times whatever he felt for Nancy Wheeler in the beginning.

And he can’t stop thinking about how much the end of that hurt.

You bite your lip and shake your head no. “I’ve got it.” you manage to mumble but only after you’ve stupidly gone and gotten all lost in his eyes again. But you remind yourself that Steve’s got a type -and a reputation, and you are sadly not his type.

If only you knew just how wrong you are about that thought.

But you don’t quite yet.

“Thanks though.” you add the words with a softer cute little smile as you tilt your head slightly and look up at him. “It’s not my mom’s food but it’ll keep me from starving and going into a hunger induced rage.” you laugh when you say it as you start to pile the finished sandwiches onto a plate.

Steve takes one and bites into it, fanning his mouth when the hot and cheesy sandwich burns his tongue and burns its way down his throat. He groans as the flavors of the different cheeses burst in his mouth. “This is good.”

You laugh softly. “Thank you. It’s better with tomato soup or marinara to dip it in but there wasn’t any around.” you take a bite of your own and bounce up and down while grinning to yourself. CCR is playing on the radio and you reach out, turning up the volume. Steve can’t help but laugh because no matter how hard he’s trying to fight whatever…. This is… that he feels for you, it goes without saying. You’re fucking adorable and he’d be lying if he  didn’t at least allow himself to admit that.

Dustin wanders in just as you and Steve have started to attempt getting him caught up in the math class he was taking and as soon as he sees you standing behind Steve’s chair with your hand on the back of it, he snickers to himself.

You can say you’re not into Steve Harrington until you’re blue in the face but your little brother knows otherwise. He’s never seen you this touchy or giggly or forgetful around anybody else. And honestly, he’s okay with Steve being around a lot.

He didn’t think he would be at first, but then he realized that maybe Steve wasn’t the guy he originally thought.

You’re rubbing his shoulders as he sits in a chair at the dining table and the more you rub his shoulders, the more he can feel himself just kind of melting. Going limp as the stress related tension built up in his shoulders just seems to vanish.

You lean over him a little and pluck the pencil from his hand when he’s starting to get irritated with a pointless word problem on the page. “Okay, watch me, alright?” your breath is warm against his ear and he finds himself gripping the edge of the table as your soft lips graze against his ear just slightly. Without warning.

And he knows you’re just tutoring him and that he’s still messed up from the way things ended with Nance, but at the same time, he also knows that whatever is happening is going to happen and he’s powerless to stop it this time. Because he’s been trying and the harder he tries, the harder it becomes.

You work through the problem but you do it slowly and you stop frequently, making Steve repeat what you’ve just shown him back to you verbally. The way you’re leaned over him and as close to him as you can get makes the whole thing seem more intimate, more personal somehow and you tell yourself that you’re imagining the way the air feels so thick with tension right now that you almost can’t breathe. But you can tell yourself that all you want, but it’s a lie and you know it.

The scent of his cologne and the hairspray he uses is filling your nose and dominating the space and like in the hallway a little over two weeks back, you feel calm. And somehow, you feel a little giddy at the same time. You decide to sit on the counter next to his open notebook and you grab yourself another grilled cheese from the stack on the plate, nibbling on it as you watch him work through the rest of the worksheet he had to do. He happens to glance up at you at one point and watching the way you hold the sandwich between both hands and the way you’re sitting close enough that your thigh has brushed his forearm at least three times now and the scent of your perfume lingering all around him is almost sensory overload before he can get himself reigned in.

He shuts the notebook and rubs his temples.

You tilt your head slightly to look at him as you continue to nibble the sandwich. “Headache?”

“Kind of. It’s math. Me n’ numbers.” he shrugs as he says it and you slip off the counter, holding out your hand to him.

He glances from your hand to you.

“C’mon. You need a break. I need a break. Because that stupid essay is… Words hard. Brain hurts.” you laugh out the words and Steve chuckles quietly, finally allowing you to grab hold of his hand. You start up the stairs and Steve lingers awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, laughing when Dustin gives him the old as time “I’m watchin you.” signal.

He laughs because he knows it’s not like that.

 But deeper down, he can’t say he’d mind at all if it were like that.

You peek out a door at the top of the stairs. “You comin up?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve starts to walk up the stairs.

He stands in your open doorway, just sort of gazing into your room. The closet is a mess, there’s clothes practically leaking out. Your bedframe isn’t assembled, it’s just kind of stacked against a wall and your mattresses are on the floor. There are posters of hair metal bands, some bands like Black Sabbath and The Doors that he’s heard here and there. He can’t help but snicker quietly to himself when he sees bold red lip prints all over a Poison poster next to your mirror. In the corner by a big window, there’s an easel and all your canvases. What surprises him the most is the room is soft pink and cream colored. Which is a huge contrast to the tie dye throw and the string lights that are tacked above your bed. Or the stuffed animals neatly stacked like a pyramid at the foot of the mattresses.

“You can come in.” you laugh softly, patting the empty spot next to you on your bed. You’re sprawled across on your stomach and you’re flipping through a magazine. Steve finally decides to step into the room and at first, he kind of sits awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

“Have you ever had a scalp massage, Harrington?”

“Nope.”

“Lay your head down in my lap.” you instruct, sitting up. Steve swallows hard and at first he tries to find some way out of it, but you’re giving him that cute little big-eyed look and he just winds up caving. He positions his head awkwardly in your lap and you start to drag your fingers over his scalp, rubbing as they move over. Steve groans before he can stop himself at one point and you giggle.

“Feels good, hm?” you question. When you lean down to ask him, your hair falls against his cheek, soft to the touch. The heavy scent of strawberries and when he blurts out what he does next, “Did you switch shampoo or somethin?”  he wants to disappear.

He’s so much smoother normally. But everything about you has thrown the guy for a complete loop.

You can feel your body burn hot all over and you’re caught totally off guard. Surprised that he noticed something that small.

It’s not like you’re constantly around him.

 Though it could be argued that he does seem to pop up a little more lately than he used to.

You laugh softly after you manage to convince yourself that it’s not a big deal and reminding yourself that he’s just a normal guy, he’s not a god or anything. “Yeah. They were out of the green apple Vo5 so I got stuck with strawberry.”

The scalp massage feels so good he’s squirming just a little. When you start to rub his temples, you’re humming under your breath and he chuckles. “Are you tryin to put me to sleep?” he asks in a heavy and hushed voice.

“Nope. But I am trying to keep your headache from getting worse. I’m rubbing pressure points.” you answer quietly.  “Have you never had a massage before?”

“Nope.” Steve answers, going quiet.

“Oh.” you’re a little stunned by the fact that not once has he ever gotten a massage. And giggling because the more areas you massage on his body, the more…. Responsive… he seems to get. 

“Lay on your stomach.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Steve insists.

“If I don’t, Harrington, you’re going to shoot off into space, alright? Have you felt the tension you’re carrying around, man?” you ask with a mild shrug as you motion for him to lay on his stomach on your bed.

“It can’t be that bad.” “You’re so tense I’m surprised you’re not in actual pain, sir.” you retort as you straddle his hips and start to work the tee shirt he’s wearing up his back so it’s not in the way quite so much. As you start to massage his back, he has to shift around quite a few times because not only is he relaxing… But the way you’re sitting on his hips in just a shirt and underwear… It doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

And he feels like a creep for the turn his mind takes with the whole thing, but he just can’t help it.

You finish massaging his back and he sits up, tugging his shirt back down. You manage to keep yourself from staring a little too hard, but only barely.

“My head’s not hurting as bad anymore.” “Amazing what getting rid of a little tension will do, hm?” you’re only mildly amused when you ask the question, giving him that little smirk.

“I wasn’t that tense.”

“You were.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

You’re zoned out a little, eyes fixed on full and soft lips. Trying to keep the intrusive whim to pull him in by his jaw and kiss him just to feel how soft they really are at bay.

He snickers quietly. “You’re kind of staring.”

You only stick out your tongue. And then you’re pulling yourself off the bed. Holding out your hand to him. “C’mon. Might as well finish all the shit we’ve gotta finish.”

Steve lets you think you pull him up off your bed and the two of you wander back down the stairs, into the kitchen so you can get back to studying.

Trick or treat! 👻🎃🐈‍⬛

Awwww! Look at the kitty cat playing with the pumpkin head 😍 For you, Part 2 of aforementioned 5+1 in this post:

New York

David wakes — if one could call it that — to a rather obnoxious rattling, clanging, hissing sound. His limbs feel like they weigh about a thousand pounds each, his eyelids may as well be glued shut and his mouth tastes like death. Dry, rotting death.  By some miracle he manages to make his jaw and vocal chords work in unison to make a vague grunt of protest. He does it again, slightly louder this time, when the noise continues. He wishes he could at least identify where he is or assess if he’s in immediate danger. The fact that he’s still alive seems to bode well.  Suddenly the area goes silent except for a feminine snicker. “Oh, is the princess finally awake?” “‘Livia?” The space next to him dips and jostles him just enough his head pulses with a dull, intense pain.  “The one and only,” his assistant answers. “Do you think you can sit up?” With great effort he opens his eyes to narrow slits, allowing him to see cut off jean shorts and fishnets over slender, tattooed legs. He whines and grumbles with each micro movement needed to wrestle his body to sit. Olivia offers to help, but lets him do most of the work.  When the world around him stops spinning, he finally realizes he must have passed out on her purple suede sofa. She disappears for a moment and returns with a steaming mug.  “Not your usual, but here.” She pushes the drink into his palms.  “Thanks.” He takes a sip — coffee with Bailey’s — and moans gratefully at the taste. She’s right, it’s not his usual highly specific order, but it glides down his throat like pure heaven.  “So,” he says after a few more swallows, “do I want to know what I’m doing here?”  Olivia runs a hand through her shock of pink hair, blowing out a forced breath before she speaks. “Well, first there was Fleur Room, then Elsewhere, The Black Flamingo. Finally there was House of Yes where you were so delusionally out of it that Traci called a car and sent you here.” David winces at the idea that someone had to send him away.  “She didn’t give details and I didn’t ask. But don’t worry, honey, you’re not banned. Yet.” “Oh, god,” he sighs, scrubbing a free hand over his face. “I’m, um, sorry. About all that.” She responds by standing up from the edge of the couch, patting him on the shoulder on the way to the kitchen. “Think you can make it back to your place?” “Yeah, I think so. I’ll just grab an Uber and head out.”  “Cool,” she says without turning around. “I have friends coming in from out of town in about an hour.” David downs the rest of his coffee, wishing he could stay planted where he is until the world rights itself. Clearly that’s not going to be an option. Instead he leaves his mug on the coffee table and waits for the room to stop spinning when he stands.  “See you Monday then,” he calls on his way out the door. The latch clicking shut is the only sound that follows him into the hallway.

So imagine time you and you AEW love have gotten engaged and moved into a dream house, but something’s missing. A furbaby! What pet are you picking out, their name, are they treated like an animal or a baby? Tell me everything.

I let out a content sigh as Trent and I sit in our backyard, steaks on the grill, a cool beer in front of both of us. He looks over at me and grins. "What got you all smiley?"

"Nothing...everything. We're getting married, we now have this wonderful house, you're sitting here with me. Just life. Life got me all smiley."

He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. "Good to hear you are pleasantly surprised with the outcome of our relationship."

I chuckle a bit at his comment. "Yep, I am. There's only one thing missing really."

"What's that?" I can tell by the way his eyebrows shoot up that he thinks I'll make a nasty sexual reference.

"A little someone to run around in this backyard..." I let my voice trail off and watch in amusement as his playful expression leaves his features, sheer panic now in his eyes. We have never talked about having kids, and I don't think we will. It's just never been important to either of us.

I laugh out loud at him. "Don't worry, Dorkie. I was talking about a dog." I laugh again as his whole body hits the back of his chair, a sigh of relief leaving his mouth.

"You are one mean bitch. If you ever do that again, I'm getting a divorce." He states which makes me laugh even more.

"We're not even married yet."

"Well then, marriage is off the table!" He stresses every single syllable as he gets up to check on our steaks. He puts them on a plate and walks back over to me.

"Seriously, Trent, what do you think about it?" I say before I thank him for the steak, it smells delicious.

"I don't know, Sweetcheeks, I feel like we shouldn't. At least not right now. Maybe when I quit wrestling, we could work on it." I can tell he is painfully uncomfortable with the conversation, trying to beat around the bush.

"About getting a dog, Trent!"

"Ooohhh...yeah, sounds like a good idea. We could go check the local shelter tomorrow?" He tries to play it cool now, but I know he is just as excited as I am.

I mockingly shake my head at him while taking a bite. "Sounds like a plan, Dorkie."

---------------

When we enter the shelter, and see seemingly endless rows of animals stuffed in small cages, both our hearts sink. We share a look, our silent agreement to safe one of these poor souls. He grabs my hand and we start looking at the dogs. Surprisingly, we both stop at the same cage and kneel down in front of it. There are two dogs inside, a small black one with long, fluffy ears, and a big, chocolate brown one, who has the facial expression of a calm giant.

Trent and I share a look and nod to each other before we go to the nice lady working there and ask her more about the dog.....s. Apparently, we did not fall in love with the same one. While the black one stole my heart, Trent got all heart eyes for the big one.

The lady smiles at us and explains that these two have been together for years, and should not be separated. Then she tells us their previous owner had passed away and the family did not want to keep the dogs, that is how they ended here.

I pull Trent to the side, taking his hands in mine and try to find a good way to start, but I just can't find the right words.

"Yes, Sweetcheeks, we're getting both." He matter-of-factly states before lightly pecking my lips. I smile up at him, amazed at how he can always tell what I am thinking, and nod.

We go back to the dogs, and say we'd gladly take the two home. After we get the paperwork done and pay, we put both of them on a leash and walk over to our car. On our way there, we decide we will not change their names, as they've had them for years now. So we stick with Piri, the small black lady, and Merlin, the brown male.

We stop to buy some essential supplies such as food, toys, blankets and dog pillows on our way home. Both dogs are actually very well behaved and seem to be rather calm, which is probably because of the fact that they have each other.

When we arrive at home, Trent pets both of them and shows them around the house as if they were human, explaining to them where the guestroom is, how the fridge holds all the good stuff and so on. I laugh at the whole situation, and can't help but admire Trent. He is so enthusiastic about it, it is endearing.

-----------------

A few weeks later, Trent returns from a long week away in Chicago, where he wrestled at the Forbidden Door PPV. As soon as he walks through the door, he shouts. "Now where's my beautiful girl?!" He looks around and smiles brightly when he sees her running towards him, standing up against his leg. "There you are! I've missed you so much!" He lifts Piri up and swirls around with her before putting her back on the floors, gently rubbing her head.

I scoff a little and look over to Merlin sprawled out on his blanket. He had raised his head, but now puts it down again, not even thinking about greeting Trent. I smile at his reaction, and still find it funny how we both fell in love with one of the dogs, but they decided they wanted it to be the other way around.

"I remember a time when I was 'your beautiful girl'." I say as I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist to pull him as close as possible.

"Awwww, Sweetcheeks, jealousy is not a good look on you." He teases before running a hand through my hair and pulling me in for a passionate kiss. I smile against his lips and run my hands up his back. When we pull apart, I brush our noses together. "I've missed you, Trent. And I'm really proud of you, you were fantastic at Forbidden Door."

He seems flattered by my compliment. "Thanks, my other beautiful girl."

Jeankasa Headcanon: Mouths after Jean and Mikasa announced their engagement, Armin has been secretly planning "The Kidnapping of the Groom".

One more epic.

One that would rival his own.

Before he did it Armin informed Mikasa of the plan and point bank said "That's ridiculous."

But she made no effort to stop it and let them do it.

When he told the other guys. They were excited.

In the morning on the day before the wedding. Jean woke up and his heart dropped when he saw a figure dressed in black staring down at him.

He was about to get up and fight the figure but before he could do anything, two figures, also dressed in black pop up and restrain.

The figure that staring down at him put a hood on his head, blocking his vision. They lift him from bed and started getting him out of the room. Jean tried to fight and wrestle his way out of their grip.

"Mikasa!" He shouted. "LET GO OF ME YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!"

Mikasa was sitting in her porch and drinking a cup of coffee.

She had a stoic face and that remain as the boys burst out of the house with Jean, who kept struggling and shouting her name.

She watched as they tossed him to the van like he was a sack of potatoes. Falco and Onyankopon were already inside putting ropes on his hands and feet. Levi was in there wondering once again how the hell did he agreed to do this again.

Armin stood next to her. "Will bringing him back tomorrow, don't worry!"

"Don't give him to much to drink."

"Aright!" He lifted his mask and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and went to the van.

Mikasa shook her head as they drove away.

In the van, Jean made every threath in the book and the boys were trying their best not to burst into laughter.

"Do you know who I am? Better yet do you know who my fiance is? Mikasa Ackerman! Yes, the woman who is worth a thousand soldiers! That Mikasa Ackerman! Wait until she finds you and you'll regret the day you were born!"

Jean only quiet down, when Levi who was sitting behind poked the back of his head with his cane. Jean thinking it was a gun shut up. The boys were bitting their to the point it was almost bleeding to stop their laugh.

They reached their destination, Niccolo's restaurant and dragged Jean inside.

Onyankopon who was trailing behind them looked at his side and saw an elderly lady with a dog on a leash with her jaw dropped and a horrified expression.

Onyankopon cleared his throat and tipped his hat. "Morning, ma'am."

The woman picked her dog and ran away.

The boys dragged Jean to a room where Nicollo was there preparing the table. He put his hand in his mouth to muffle his laughter.

They sat him in down on the chair.

Armin picked a voice modulator and shifted so that his voice would sound different from his.

"Jean Kirstein." He started.

Jean's body shook at the mention of his name.

"That’s your name isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Were you born on April 7th?"

"Yes."

"Is your fiancé's name Mikasa Ackerman?"

"If you fucking touch her!"

"Answer the question."

"Yes she's my fiance."

"Do you wish too see her again?"

"I do."

"Than do the following." Armin took a deep breath and begged every bone in body not to laugh. "Do you know the song 'I want it that way?"

Jean hesitate to answer. "Yes I know that song."

"Then sing it."

"What?"

"Singing it!"

Jean paused and took a deep breath. He started singing.

The boys were on the floor rolling trying not to laugh, all of them red in the face. Even Levi had an amused smile.

Jean reached the end if the song and waited.

"Why are you doing this?"

"We're even." Armin answered.

"What?" Jean asked confused.

Finally, Armin removes the hood off. Jean blinks at the new change of light. When his vision focused he looked around and his widden seeing Armin, Connie, Reiner, Falco, Onyankopon, Levi and Nicollo.

"What the fuck?" He shouted.

Not able to hold on anymore everyone started laughing like hyenas.

Entry 95: Oops! All Supports Volume #15

I just realized I’ve done hundreds of Supports thus far. Huh. That explains why they seem so repetitive. And yet, there are close to close to 200 left.

Support: Camilla/Keaton

C: Keaton finds a mass grave and collects the bones.

B: Keaton asks Camilla to help him find the mass grave again.

A: Keaton offers to protect Camilla as she travels, something she very clearly does not need. Also, Keaton mentions his hometown is filled with the bones of people he killed, which he leaves lying about. Okay.

S: Keaton proposes because Camilla needs a strong man and gets flustered when Camilla calls him out.

Review: Fairly average, but goddamn Keaton respect the dead. It's that Tumblr lady all over again. 

Support: Azura/Leo

C: Leo sees Azura singing a song. I'll let you guess which. Azura says her mother taught it to her, leading Leo to mention they were treated horribly in Nohr. Azura remembers something awful and runs away.

B: Leo brings up that Azura was happier in Hoshido because Nohr was awful for her. Azura says that there are kind people in Nohr, something Leo taught her. I genuinely do not know what she's talking about.

A: Azura sings for Leo and says her mother showed her that love never fails. Azura says Leo is that person for her. Huh? When did that happen?

S: Leo does the "I have a friend who is in love with a woman" thing.

Review: Hey when did Azura start loving Leo? And why? They forgot to show that. This one isn't very good.

Support: Laslow/Xander

C: Xander reviews complaints over Laslow hitting on married women and getting into bar fights. Xander brings up his first meeting with Laslow, where Xander challenged Laslow to a duel after he was appointed by Garon. Xander says he's disappointed in Laslow wasting his potential and places him under house arrest.

B: Laslow, bored with house arrest, asks if the Nohrians have a royal birthmark like the family in his homeland. Xander says no and asks about Laslow's homeland. Xander says that if Laslow ever disobeys him, he will track him down and punish him. Laslow points out its hard to track a man using a fake name. Xander lengthens his sentence.

A: Xander tells Laslow that he once had two actually competent retainers, who died protecting him. Xander blames his weakness for their deaths and asks Laslow to not make him experience that again. Laslow promises before saying he will leave one day. Xander says he's fine with that, as long as his friend continues to draw breath.

Review: Pretty good. Great characterization for Xander and does a great job establishing his bond with Laslow.

Support: Corrin/Effie

C: Effie eats twelve people's worth of food.

B: As Effie tosses around boulders, she explains her history with Elise. Elise snuck to the slums, met Effie, became friends, jerkass guards harassed them and took Elise back, etc.

A: Effie explains she became a soldier to be with Elise, because being in the presence of Elise was intoxicating. Okay. Methinks Effie might have feelings for her liege.

S: Corrin proposes by hiding a ring in a roll. Effie eats it and breaks the diamond in half with her teeth. Effie objects to the marriage, because she's busy so much protecting Elise, but accepts when Corrin points out marrying him will make Elise Effie's sister.

Review: I like Effie's backstory, but it is better shown off in other Supports. Also Effie broke a diamond without even thinking about and that's great.

Support: Benny/Elise

C: Elise hears rumors that Benny eats horses, trees, and boulders. she follows him around to see if he'll eat a mountain. He says he hasn't eaten mountains since the accident.

B: Elise tells Benny that she's also heard rumors of him defeating 100 men in a mud wrestling competition, being raised by black bears, and that he sneezed a hole through a Faceless. All of them are sadly fake. Benny says that most people fear him. Elis says she thinks he's a big fuzzy bear.

A: Elise spreads a rumor that talking to Benny is good luck, so everyone talks to Benny.

S: Benny gives Elise a note asking her to tea because he's too shy to ask her out directly. Then they fuck I guess.

Review: Really sweet and cute.

Support: Effie/Mozu

C: Effie is hungry and Mozu gives her dried fuit.

B: Mozu invents pulp-free juice. Effie offers to make it because she needs the workout.

A: Effie and Mozu make and sell fruit juice.

Review: Damn that was barely even a Support. Nothing happened.

Support: Selena/Silas

C: Selena hears Silas has good work ethic and challenges him to a competition over who has the best work ethic.

B: The competition begins, with the two of them practicing sword swings until sunrise.

A: They decide it's a draw after being deployed. Silas asks why Selena is obsessed over work ethic and Selena admits she's insecure because her mother was incredible. Silas relinquishes the title of hardest worker.

S: Silas proposes. Selena says yes, on the condition that Silas will love her more than their children. What.

Review: Good character stuff with Selena's insecurities, but other than that it's pretty mediocre.

Support: Felicia/Peri

C: Felicia spills tea on Peri. Peri threatens to murder her like she did all of her other servants.

B: Felicia asks if Peri actually kills her servants and Peri describes dancing around in fountains of blood. Felicia lies about the kettle being broken to keep herself from spilling.

A: Peri hits Felicia for lying and makes her serve tea. Felicia spills it on her. Peri tries to kill Felicia, but Felicia dodge tanks. Peri, thinking a maid who doesn't die easily is cool, spares Felicia and asks her to teach the other servants to fight back.

Review: Peri is Peri, and I've said my thoughts on that before. Felicia being smart enough to not serve tea is good though.

Support: Nyx/Xander

C: Nyx asks what is troubling Xander. Xander says that soothsaying is bullshit and leaves.

B: Nyx deduces that the war is troubling Xander, who has no desire to kill but must. Nyx points out Xander is noble, but must put his kingdom first for the greater good. Said greater good is imperialism because again, Xander is the prince of the evil country.

A: Nyx explains her insight int Xander isn't soothsaying, but rather her seeing something familiar. Nyx explains that she was cursed for her crimes and wonders if she is capable of salvation.

S: Xander proposes, saying they will atone together and bring a new era to Nohr, protecting future generations from their burden.

Review: Pretty good. Xander and Nyx bonding over being haunted by their actions is great.

Support: Leo/Selena

C: Selena discovers Risk and beats everyone. She teaches it to Leo, who beats her.

B: Leo and Selena have fifteen rematches, Selena losing each time. Leo tells her to try and be a gracious loser and she says losing is terrible.

A: Selena wins and gloats, thanks to hours of practice. Leo congratulates her and asks her if she wants to play again. She refuses because she's the winner now.

S: Leo proposes because he thinks competitiveness is attractive. Selena says yes. Leo calls her his number one girl, which angers her because that implies there could theoretically be a number two or three and she wants to be his only girl.

Review: Selena is awful in this one, in a really fun way. A good Support.

8/14/11

My occasional run-ins with the Caveman grow more & more surreal, as though he was a joke being played on me by faces I cannot see.  Yesterday he showed me his “poetry,” unrelievedly awful, kept importantly in a black portfolio in his backpack.  I skimmed over them quickly, wanting to yell at him that words have meaning, they require attention, care.  Instead I mumbled “interesting,” the most benign adjective I could spit out.  Unable to be cruel, yet I could not bring myself to encourage such a waste of paper.  My coldness, another anecdote to bring home to Jacob.  We all must have someone to feel superior to, it seems.  I am no better.

I am over my delusions that Jacob may hold any feelings stronger than friendly endearment toward me.  I was reading signs that weren’t there, gestures hollow that my loneliness attempted to breathe life into.  With Josh out of town last night I played about with Jacob, drinking whiskey, smoking pot, trying to put a haze between my thoughts & myself.  We went swimming, we laid on my bed watching a bootleg of the latest Harry Potter film (of Jacob’s interest, not my own).  On the living room floor we wrestled, I was smothering him with a pillow, as I enjoy doing, being silly to make him laugh, “Pay attention to me Jacob!  I want attention!”  I was sitting atop his splayed body & I could feel his erection smacking against my ass through the thin material of his pajama bottoms, & suddenly he thrust me off of him, “I don’t want to be strangled anymore,” keeping a casual tone.  I pouted at him, “It’s not fun without you,” & he looked at me, “Strangle yourself,” his phrasing ripe with innuendo.  It was then that I got it.  If there is a real attraction there he does not want to feel it.  So familiar with that situation I let it go.  Who am I to insist on anything better?

Alone, I went to my bed, “strangling myself,” & as he does when my loneliness gets the best of me, Ryan popped up in my head.  Not strictly the sexual moments I sometimes revisit for these purposes, but a whole series of memories like snapshots zipping through my mind, razor-sharp & dangerous.  His head on my lap as I read to him from House of Incest & the legends of the greek gods.  Him sitting on my lap in the arcade at Double Dave’s.  In the cabin at Wildlife Ridge, the blanket concealing our sex as the others flitted in & out of the cabin.  Slow dancing alone in our apartment to Toussaint McCall.  Coming home to tell me he’d gotten hard just thinking of me at work & had to hide his erection.  Making out like two teenagers for hours on our tiny couch.  These memories like very sharp knives slicing into every part of me, & I the girl mad as birds, crying & masturbating alone in the dark.  This city is no good for me any longer.  I used to feel myself growing here like a tree, adding new limbs & leaves for every new experience.  Now however there is only stagnation, a putrid rot on the surface of every day, & I am haunted by Ryan’s ghost everywhere I go.  I am not strong, I am too weak to fight the soft decay of my limbs, my mind.  I sink each day further into misery, & even Josh & Jacob cannot pull me out of it.  I hide this self from them, I am not their responsibility & I have no desire to make them feel bad that I cannot be happy here.  I relate all of this only to Max, who probably tires of hearing it, as he seems to be doing alright since I left.  No more injured ankles, slowing down his drunken revelries.  I fear somewhat dramatically that I may never be happy, anywhere, again.  Not with the whisper of the happiness I’d found with Ryan hanging over me.  Over four years have passed since I met him.  Over two since I’ve last seen him.  When does it end?  Why can’t I get past this?  Thom told me he’d always found Ryan to be pretentious, & that bothered me, even now.  I could tell he was only trying to help, to stretch for a flaw to make Ryan seem undesirable, but pretentiousness was never a presence in Ryan’s character.  He was accepting & curious of all lifestyles & traits, he always wanted to know how others live.  Perhaps that’s why it’s so hard to rebound, because I honestly cannot say he is a bad or even unlikeable person.  Even Thom liked him, despite his opinion now.  He is funny & clever & charismatic, no prejudices.  He’s intelligent & outgoing, inventive, sarcastic, has a way of making you feel important, all of his attention on you & you alone like the sun’s rays pouring golden upon your form.  Loving & romantic & sexy, those heavy-lidded chocolate eyes the ultimate aphrodisiac, the half-smile & low, lazy voice when we’d make love like gods, all morning, all afternoon, into the evenings.  Pulling up the blankets, the pillows, pretending he was searching for something, “Where are your flaws, I can’t find them!”  Laughing, he’d collapse next to me, his head on my chest, his arms around me tight as he could.  The fire burning in me for those moments, that undiluted flow of love.  Something I’d never known even existed, didn’t even know what was there to long for.  I was lucky, when would a girl like me ever be loved like that?  Should I wish that it had never happened, so that I may still be blissfully ignorant of that attention?  But I cannot, even now knowing how short-lived his love is, how easily he can give into the next girl who comes along.  This does not make it any less genuine, or make what we had any less real.  I cannot even hate him for it, he simply gives all of himself in any relationship, he lives fully in life.  How can he do this again & again amazes me, as just the one time it exhausted me, physically, mentally.  I am unable to pour myself into every person I am with, I’d perish from the strain.  He & Max are the only two men I’ve ever fully loved, without question, & Ryan is the only person I’ve given myself to.  Handed over the keys & trusted him not to throw them away.  Instead we threw each other away, burned through decades of love & experience in less than two years.  I miss it, yes, but often I miss him, just him, his own self as a fact, so easy to enjoy life with.  The way I miss Shawn, or Thom, someone to find fun in anything.  He was not only capable of easing my blues, he chased them off like he’d waged war.  A war I suppose he lost.  Both of us.

Silent Night

For @hacawijo - thank you, my lovely, for being such a gem of a person; you deserve the world.

Merry Christmas, you filthy Elriel!

That goes out to the entire Elriel fam, btw. All my love to each and every one of you - there are too many to tag!

❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤

Thank you @wingedblooms for all your help!

Read it on AO3, if you'd prefer.

Word count: 6891

TW: mild adult content.

Disclaimer: this is a festive Elriel one shot, set at the Winter Solstice a year after the events of ACOSF. Characters and places belong to SJM.

The sun was slowly setting in the sky, the calming colours of a winter dusk infinitely brightened by the snow falling in gently cascading waves of white, silently blanketing the world around her with the hope of a fresh start to come, as Elain Archeron finally reached the kitchen door at the back of the townhouse.

Scuffing the soles of her thickly lined boots against the sturdy doormat, both of those items luxuries she could only have dreamed of a few short years ago, she wrestled with the parcel in her arms, finally freeing a callused hand from her mitten to activate the door's unlocking spell, which was keyed to her once more after her move back to Feyre and Rhys' old home.

It had well and truly been time for her to gain a modicum of independence, yet, thanks to Koschei the Deathless' looming threat, she had had to be reasonable with her choice of abode. The townhouse provided her with her much wanted privacy, but came with protective spells cast by the High Lord of the Night Court himself; it also minimised the potential risk to her neighbours, as they shared no corridors or stairwells with a death god's potential target.

Elain and her family weren't quite sure how Koschei had discovered that she was a Seer, as, for all she and Lucien had a slightly awkward relationship after they had declined their mating bond, she didn't think he would ever betray her like that, but Beron had… let slip the fact that it was information that had been circulating on the Continent, so here she was, once again at risk of being held hostage, or worse. Still, she insisted on paying rent, and refused the offer of any help outside Nuala or Cerridwen running occasional perimeter checks. That was different, though. They were her friends, and she would have done the same and more for them if the situation was reversed.

Sighing as she shoved her way in through the door--and oh, if only her lady mother could see her acting in such an undignified way, she may have had a conniption and passed away all over again!-- Elain put the brown paper package on the stone bench and closed the door behind her.

Azriel’s gift almost hadn't made it in time. At first, after their disastrous encounter last winter solstice, and the heart-wrenchingly awkward indifference that had followed for the year after, she had thought she'd decided against buying him a gift this year. But two months ago, as Elain was sitting and having tea with Nesta, Feyre, and little Nyx at the House of Wind, and she heard her sisters discussing the gifts they had planned for their respective mates, something in her had snapped, and she made up her mind to not let her mistake ruin the first true friendship she had ever made for herself. She needed to heal whatever rift had come between them.

So, knowing she was incredibly short on time, Elain had sent away for a yarn made from the wool of a sheep that thrived in the Winter Court, paid for the outrageous express delivery, and spent her evenings knitting Azriel an undershirt to keep him warm on missions involving wind and ice and snow. She knew he could use his siphons to create a shield, but she would much, much rather he save that magic for protecting himself in case of emergencies. Weaving her wishes and love for him into every stitch, Elain had finally made a black sweater that, though it was lightweight, veritably oozed with softness and warmth and comfort.

But that had only been the first part of her plan. It had taken her longer to knit the undershirt than she had anticipated--a fair few rows of miscounted stitches or uneven tension had had to be fixed--but Elain had delivered her creation to one of the weavers in town who specialised in charming clothes, with instruction to imbue the piece with spells for subtlety, warmth and protection.

Interestingly, though, when Elain had arrived to finally collect the finished item not an hour before, complete with the weaver-witch's profuse apologies for the delay, she had received both a strange look and a comment that no spells would take, except for a very basic stitched rune around the collar and cuffs to help prevent fraying, as the garment already contained its own innate, powerful magic.

Elain had been floored, but quickly thought to mumble something about the wool being specially ordered from the Winter Court, before she had paid the female, thrown her a bright smile and headed back out into the steadily accumulating snow. It had been a long morning of cooking and baking with the twins, a cold march from the river estate to the weaver's shop in Velaris, and the walk home had only served to increase her exhaustion.

Now, as she removed her cloak and hung it in the mud room off the kitchen, she stared at Azriel’s gift with apprehension. Over summer, when discussing how she had been progressing with mastering her Sight, Amren had mentioned her powers, with an 'S'. As in plural. At the time, Elain had assumed it was a slip of the tongue, but…

Is this what she had meant? Was there something else, some otherworldly power, slumbering away below her reborn flesh? She did occasionally feel something, especially when she was angry, but it had frightened her, so she had instead worked to control what little temper she had.

The clock chiming three o'clock in the afternoon roused her from her reverie, reminding her that she needed to wash and dress for her family's solstice gathering this evening, and give Feyre’s birthday cake one final check. Rubbing her temples--when had she started doing that, she wondered--Elain climbed the stairs to her room.

***

Freshly washed and dressed in a velvet gown of such a deep cobalt that it appeared to be black, until the light hit it just so, and carrying her overnight bag--as the chances that no one would be in any shape to fly or winnow her home later on tonight were high--Elain entered the kitchen to see a shadow lazily curling around the parcel she'd left unattended on bench, and stopped short as her heart gave a beat so violent that she thought it might very well have been its last.

She knew that shadow, just like she knew Azriel couldn't be trusted around wrapped gifts, and she suspected why it had come.

Nuala and Cerridwen had planned for whoever of the two was free to arrive soon, in order to help her transport Feyre’s birthday cake to the river house--it was another three-tiered work of art, if she did say so herself--but apparently Azriel had decided to help out this year, because that shadow was decidedly his. She could always tell.

Hurrying to stuff Azriel’s (luckily) wrapped sweater into a blue and silver gift box with a note already inside, she had put the lid on just as she heard a knock at the backdoor. Rubbing slightly sweaty hands on the tea towel hanging from the hook by the stove, Elain braced herself for who she knew would be on the other side as she walked across the flagstone floor of the townhouse's cozy kitchen to open the door.

And there he was. She hadn't seen him for months.

Dressed in an immaculately tailored overcoat and trousers in a black so deep it seemed to devour the light streaming out past her, leather boots polished to a shine and his hair falling softly over his forehead in a manner that just begged her to run her hands through it so she could see all of his beautiful face, his wings shifted noiselessly as he waited to be invited inside. Belatedly meeting his hazel eyes, Elain noticed the pink on his cheeks and realised she was staring; kicking herself internally--she had wanted to repair their friendship, not make her hopeless feelings any more uncomfortably obvious than they already were--she gave him a gentle smile as she stepped aside to let him in.

Heading into the cupboard that was spelled to keep things cool, Elain took a few seconds to calm herself--letting the cold into her veins, to cool herself down--as she collected Feyre’s already boxed cake with a quick peek to ensure it was still standing upright, and then carefully carried it the short distance to the work table in the centre of the room.

Azriel had been staring at the box, a shadow quickly disappearing from view under the table as she returned to the kitchen's main room. Raising an elegantly arched eyebrow, Elain pointedly looked at him, then placed the cake box onto the table.

"Spymasters are supposed to be trustworthy, no?"

Clearing his throat, Azriel chuckled. "When unidentified boxes are sitting in the middle of the room just begging to be inspected, I would argue that it's my job to make sure all is well."

Elain scoffed as she ducked to slip on her heels, then shrugged into her warmest cloak, proclaiming, "It's solstice, and the box is clearly a gift for someone that didn't make it into Rhys' hiding spot. Should a spymaster not have better excuses up his sleeves, ones that play into context?"

Once again, if only her mother could see her now, speaking so boldly in front of a man--a male--who outranked her in almost every way. The thought made her smile.

Azriel stilled a little, wings and shadows settling as he held her eyes while bowing deeply, before straightening once more.

"I do apologise, my lady. Perhaps you would do me the honour of giving me your professional advice on the matter as I convey you to the party? Only it's already busy there, and all the food you helped to prepare will be gone if we're not quick. Cassian and Mor can't help themselves."

Elain grinned. From anyone else, a joke about her 'professional opinion' would have rankled, even if it was kindly meant, but Azriel had always seen her, and listened to everything she had to say. Never judged her, or given her words one jot less respect than he did his High Lord and Lady. Even if he had made it clear in the last year, that she could never dream to have him as a lover, the way they had immediately fallen back into their easy friendship tonight gave her hope that all was not lost, for she would rather have him as her dear friend than not at all.

Placing the gift box in her overnight bag, and shooting Azriel another look, Elain slung the bag over her shoulder before he could offer to carry it for her, careful to miss her long hair, and approached the cake box once more, contemplating.

"How do we do this? I've never carried a giant cake across the city through the shadows before."

Grinning, Az's eyes danced as he looked from the box to Elain. "If you'll allow my shadows the responsibility, they can keep it safe as we fly. Unless you'd rather shadow walk, but the risk of us dropping it is much higher than them."

Elain’s mouth dried in an instant, and the next words out sounded like she'd only just regained her voice after a long illness.

"Fly? Whatever--" she coughed. "Whatever is easiest."

She knew her cheeks were flaming. Shamefully.

Azriel made no movement, uttered no sound, but the air hummed regardless, and the next second she watched as his shadows surrounded the cake box, engulfing it as it melted away into nothingness. Elain's eyes couldn't help but widen at the magical display, and, if she didn't know better, she would have said that Az stood just a bit taller--held his wings a wee bit higher--in response.

He held his arm out for her, manners as polished as any lordling she had known growing up (but shoulders that were much, much broader, she couldn't help but notice). Elain looked up at Azriel, knowing her face was an open book, especially to him, but unable to do much about it.

Another smile softly bloomed on his face. "Shall we?"

Steeling herself for the exquisite pain that was being held by Azriel, when she knew she couldn't hold him back without giving herself away--even if she could manage her face, her heart was racing as if she had sprinted from the Sidra to the townhouse sometime in the last minute--Elain silently looped her arm through his, shivering as he covered her hand with his, and followed him through the door.

The solid oak door closed and locked behind them, and she stood there, mutely, just staring at it as she willed her mind to calm down.

Clearing his throat once more, Azriel beckoned to her with his arms, hinting at what Elain had been both dreading, and relishing the thought, of in equal measure.

"May I?"

Ever the gentle-fae, Azriel still waited, never assuming, until she tore her eyes away from the door and looked at him once more.

"Oh, yes. Sorry." Elain gave him a guilty smile. "I've been a little distracted lately, don't mind me."

Gathering her into his arms as carefully as he would Nyx, Azriel cradled her to his chest as he walked clear of the patio furniture, giving his wings ample space for take off. A cobalt shield flared brightly around them before it faded into a blue glimmer of light, and the chill breeze faded away. A mighty crack and boom echoed around them, and then they were in the air, climbing high above the chimney tops, until Azriel’s wings angled to catch the air current that had them sailing over Velaris as dusk became night.

Softly--so softly she almost didn't hear it--he spoke. "After my behaviour last solstice, I know I have no right to say so, but… if you ever want or need to talk, please know I will always make time for you."

Shocked, Elain could only stare at the scene far below them, a never-ending tapestry of winter wonder, her beloved city and home, as she digested what he had just said. Eventually, and oh so carefully, she responded, weighing every word.

"I know you told me not to apologise, but Azriel, I really am sorry. I put you in that position, I read you wrong, and I am so sorry to have lost our friendship this year." Try as she might, her heart couldn't be calmed as she forced herself to continue, for it needed to be said. "You mean the world to me, and I would much rather have only this, than nothing at all."

There. Her cards were all on the proverbial table. She had become adept at secret keeping over the course of her life, but she never wanted anything to cloud her relationship with him, whatever it may be, ever again.

Azriel gave the ground around them a cursory glance before he angled his head sharply, to look her in the eyes. It was likely just the cold, but she could have sworn there was a distinctive shine to them that she hadn't seen before.

In the end, all he did was close his eyes and give her a brief, tight squeeze, dipping his chin to kiss the top of her hair as he flew on.

Elain managed not to cry with relief. A solstice feat in and of itself.

As they reached the outskirts of the river estate, and Azriel banked to begin their descent, he finally spoke, voice rough.

"You mean the world to me, too, Elain. Please don't ever doubt that."

They landed on the drive at the front of the estate and, tucking his wings in once more, he gently set her down by the steps. Facing him now, Elain could finally look up to his beautiful face without wrenching her neck; she hadn't seen his eyes this joyously bright, nor such a smile on his face, since last year, and she felt herself warming from the shadowsinger's light, the winter wind nipping at their ankles long forgotten.

Smiling broadly, she bowed--an odd look in her gown, granted--and offered Azriel her hand.

"Shall we?"

***

Solstice dinner was, as usual, a long and luxurious affair for the entire inner circle, as they gorged themselves silly on food and wine and family, though Elain spent some time going back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, helping Nuala and Cerridwen, who would be spending the next day with their own loved ones. Luckily, or not, Elain was seated at the opposite end of the table to Azriel, though she frequently felt his eyes on her throughout the meal.

After dessert, which included Feyre’s birthday cake emerging from the shadows unscathed, triumphant in white and gold, as well as sticky date puddings with thick, freshly made vanilla bean custard, they had all gathered around the fireplace to exchange gifts.

This was the part Elain had dreaded and, after putting on a brave face all night, managing to restrict her furtive glances towards Azriel to only once every ten minutes, her nerves were raw, and she had decided she didn't have the strength to give him his sweater in front of their loved ones. To risk the reception highlighting yet another mistake would have been more than her heart could stand, so she left the blue and silver box in her overnight bag, and instead relished in the gifts she gave to the rest of her family.

If anyone noticed the glances she sent to Azriel or her bag, they spared her any comment. She knew, though, with absolute certainty, that Azriel had marked the absence of a particular box. Firstly, he was the spymaster; how could he not? And secondly, she saw a bright, curious shadow hover around her bag before disappearing--the sight of which pulled painfully at her heart. Another surreptitious glance at the shadowsinger caught him staring at her, and, though his face remained neutral, she felt such heat from him that she had to look away, or be trapped for good in the depths of his eyes.

And so, after a long night of various levels of drinking and debauchery, especially after Nyx had been put to bed, Elain, though feeling the effects of her long day--for it was well past midnight and she had risen before dawn--was still oddly energised. She knew what was coming, could not stop it if she wanted to, and could only hope not to blow it this year.

Elain had decided that her best course of action was to head up to her old room to change for bed, waiting for the house to fully come to rest before sneaking back down to, if she was lucky, catch Azriel, and if not, at the very least, leave the box on Azriel’s pile of gifts for him to find tomorrow morning. He would know whom it was from.

But Azriel, it seemed, had anticipated her move, and apparently welcomed it, for he sat by the dying fire, the light of which set his magnificent wings ablaze in shades of orange and red, with two mugs of drinking chocolate--a new arrival from the Winter Court, courtesy of Kallias and Viviane.

He stood quickly, stepped forward, and then stopped, as Elain crossed the threshold of the family room. "You came back down."

Elain stared at him, entranced by the light in his eyes, before once again remembering herself. He really was too easy to stare at. He knew it, too, the handsome bugger.

"You made drinking chocolate, I see." She smiled, "I hope it was from Rhys' personal stash."

Azriel laughed--actually laughed--and Elain felt her heart concurrently ease and speed up; a contradictory experience, but there it was. Only he did this to her. Not even Graysen had discombobulated her so, and she had fancied herself in love with him. She had loved him, she realised now, but not as deeply as she did the male before her.

Sitting back down, he tapped the seat beside him, and held out a mug of the decadently rich chocolate drink. It smelt divine, and, maintaining a little distance between their bodies, Elain accepted it and relaxed into the couch, placing the gift box on her other side. It would never be safe from prying shadows, but there didn't seem to be any visibly about at the moment, anyway.

They sat quietly for a minute, sipping their warm drinks, before: "Good haul this year?"

"Oh, yes." Elain nodded. "Lots of gardening supplies and tools; I can't wait to put them to use come spring. How about you?" She cringed internally at her attempt at small talk, it didn't belong between the two of them.

Azriel smiled guiltily, clearly having come to the same realisation. He always could read her.

He twisted on the spot to get a better look at her, and cleared his throat. If she happened to automatically copy that movement, well, it couldn't be helped. She told herself it was only polite, and not because she was drawn to him as a bee was a blossom.

"Elain, I--" Eyes shining, his throat bobbed as he swallowed before continuing. "I really am more sorry than you know, about last solstice. Please believe that it was never, ever you. It pains me more than I can say, that you've carried guilt with you for a year, for something that was never your fault."

Elain opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again, thoughts whirling as she drew the edges of her wrapper more tightly around herself. How could her misreading of the situation be anyone's fault but her own?

"Az, really," and here he smiled softly at her renewed use of his nickname, "You don't need to take the blame from my shoulders. If I'm in the wrong, so be it. I can only acknowledge it, apologise and move forwards."

Shadows flickered behind his eyes for a moment, before he responded. "You didn't misread me; I practically led you on, then rebuffed you. I am ashamed of my own actions, never yours."

Elain was still for a moment, considering, then she smiled.

"So, we have both decided that we are ashamed of ourselves, yet we still care deeply for the other, and have missed each other horribly for twelve months. How about we agree to drop the shame and just embrace each other, instead?" She blushed a little at the formality of her words, but she realised she would not take them back if she could.

"Deal," Azriel responded vehemently, and held out his hand.

"You've been learning human niceties, I see?" Elain joked as she accepted it and shook firmly.

He began to respond, her hand still clasped in his own, but froze just as Elain noticed a peculiar sensation around her left upper arm. Azriel looked on in alarm as she grabbed it, before pushing the sleeve of her wrapper down to inspect the skin. An oddly familiar golden, serpent-like beast wound around her flesh, the light dancing across it such that it appeared to move of its own accord.

"Azriel, what--?"

He blinked, then rubbed his own left arm. "I suspect that, if I remove my shirt and jacket, I will see a matching tattoo." Looking her right in the eye, he continued, "It appears we have made a bargain."

Oh. Oh!

"To… embrace each other?" Elain swallowed. "Not that I don't want to embrace you. That is--not that I do, either--oh Mother." She laughed. "I suppose we just agreed to keep caring deeply for one another. What's the harm in that?"

Still holding his marked arm, Azriel smiled back at her, face more open than she had seen it before. "I never stopped caring for you, you know." He reached up to gently cup her face, his thumb stroking her neck, and she couldn't help but close her eyes as she melted into his hand for a second.

If only she could stay like this forever.

Coming back to herself, Elain made to twist behind her for Azriel’s gift--they could discuss what their bargain meant later, she needed to do this now, while she had the courage--only to realise that the box was missing. Looking back at Azriel, a cheeky shadow had the box mid-air in between them, and Az was regarding it with keen interest.

"Now, what could this be? Certainly not a gift that you, once again, forgot to give to someone?"

Elain sighed, all exasperation. "Go ahead and open it, Az, it's yours. I know you want to."

Azriel took the box from his shadow and jolted, looking straight back at her. "What is this? I can feel it from here. I've been sensing something all night."

Elain only motioned for him to continue.

Reverently opening the box, then the brown paper wrapping, he removed the knitted undershirt and shook it out, eyes blowing wide. "You--Made this?"

Elain nodded shyly. "Yes, I used the highest quality wool I could find from the Winter Court, and knitted it myself. I know it's not professional level, but… it should keep you warm, at least, when you're away on missions."

Azriel looked at her with wonder. "No, I mean--you really don't realise, do you? You Made this sweater. My shadows can sense the power, same as Nesta’s swords and dagger, and not dissimilar to the items we have from the Dread Trove, either. It's more than a simple spell for keeping out the cold; this sweater is warmth, and…" He closed his eyes, shadows writhing over the garment as he considered. "Protection, and something else."

Elain nodded, completely bemused, but at the same time, feeling as if a window had suddenly been thrown open, shining light onto a deeply buried part of herself that she had, so far, struggled to see. It was, she realised, not unlike the time Azriel had discovered that she was a Seer, when no one else had. Then, as now, the naming of the power had helped her to acknowledge and understand its existence.

She wondered why, but that was something to ponder later. Trembling a little with the realisation, she asked, "If it's so powerful, why didn't anyone else sense it?"

Az pondered for a second before answering. "Made items tend to behave as they see fit, and if it didn't want to be found--that'll be the protective magic, I suppose," he smiled, "Then they wouldn't call to anyone else. I assume that, because this was Made with me in mind…" he blushed now, colour blooming high on his lovely cheeks.

Elain’s own face burnt, she knew she looked much the same. Azriel turned to look her full in the eyes, his own brimming with emotion.

"Elain, do you know what a gift such as this--a donation of power--entails amongst my mother's people, or in the Hewn City?" His voice was deeper, all of a sudden, and a tear or two looked ready to escape from his eyes.

She could only shake her head, worry coursing through her veins. Though she had read up on most Night Court customs, of course, and those of faeries in general, books pertaining to Illyrian customs, or those from the Court of Nightmares, were very hard to find, and Rhys and Cassian would wonder why she was asking, if she had. She had suspected they would catch on pretty quickly, especially if she'd asked after she had told Lucien she wouldn't be pursuing the bond the Cauldron had given them. Had she accidentally put her foot in it?

"Have I insulted you somehow? I never meant to--"

Azriel shook his head vehemently. "No, no. Please. This is the furthest thing from offensive." His throat bobbed. "The custom is usually from a male to a female, fae societies being what they are, but a gift of protection such as this amounts to a… a declaration."

Oh.

He regarded the shirt in his hands with such intense awe, before looking back to her, reaching with his hand, as if he had to hold on to someone to maintain some semblance of calm. She took his hand--of course she did. How could she not?

"I know you couldn't have known what something like this means, but--it means more than you could know, even without the custom, that you would honour me with such a gift." His eyes shone. "If you are still comfortable with me having it, I will treasure it. Always."

Elain was floored, and slightly shocked to realise that she didn't find herself embarrassed at having committed such a severe faux pas. All she could do was hold his eyes with her own, feeling the caress he sent her, reading the meaning hidden behind his careful regard, and trust that something was different this year, for whatever reason. Warmth filled her from the inside out, fighting off the chill air behind her, nothing at all to do with the fireplace over Azriel’s shoulder.

She nodded, but failed to keep her voice light as she said, "Of course it's yours. You honour me by accepting it."

Azriel exhaled a breath she hadn't realised he was holding, and a shadow appeared from nowhere, dancing along his newly tattooed arm before pooling in his cupped hands, and a rose and gold toned parcel appeared. He placed it gently in her hands before she caught on, raising one of his perfect brows, wings rustling slightly, when she didn't move to open it.

Whoops.

Unwrapping the paper and removing the lid, she found three small, burlap bags full of bulbs that looked like--

"These are tulip bulbs, from the Continent."

Elain could only stare. He had remembered? She looked at him, at his face laid bare.

"Maybe one spring we can go together, to see the fields in bloom, but until then, you can plant these where you will, and maybe…" He shook his head and looked away.

"Az, these are perfect." She hoped the true delight in her voice could convince him. "Of course I'll go with you. If they were in bloom right now, I would grab my cloak and we could be off straight away."

Relaxing once more, he managed to look at the bulbs in the box, each bag nestled carefully amongst straw to protect the precious life within.

"These will be red," with a scarred hand, he motioned towards the bag closest to her, which, on closer inspection, had a little red paper tag attached to the tie. "These will be pink, and these white." He motioned to the other two similarly tagged bags in turn.

She could hear his heart begin to beat louder, faster; as if it couldn't be helped, despite his centuries of training and ingrained self-control.

Elain stilled, staring at the box in her lap. Flowers held specific meanings, or even intentions, amongst humans… her own heart raced. She didn't want to assume anything, but he had shaken her hand not a quarter of an hour ago; so he had learnt some human customs, at least. Could he possibly be making his own--

Azriel coughed, and she dragged her eyes up to meet his own. His blush had spread to his ears, and she knew he beheld the blatant question in her eyes as he tentatively smiled; she felt his hands tenderly gather up her own, fingers nesting between each other instinctively, as if they had always belonged that way, but had been waiting for permission to regain their natural state.

Passion and love. Affection and caring. I'm sorry.

She knew her eyes were close to bursting, but she couldn't look away.

Azriel simply nodded as he slipped a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, before letting his hand drop to caress her neck. Elain shuddered lightly, warmth and want blooming with a dual intensity so powerful that she didn't quite believe it was happening. If she woke up now, she would probably cry.

Shifting on the spot, she slowly leant into him, looking up just before she tucked her head into his chest and placed her hand over his raging heart. As his arm went around her shoulders and secured her to his side, his expression was--she could only describe it as him being in a state of disbelief equal to her own.

Was this moment dream or reality? Maybe she should pinch herself.

Breathing in his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar, letting it settle over and into her until she felt it coated her bones and lined her veins, Elain could only ask, "Then why?"

He knew what she meant, and she felt his unease return as he spoke carefully. "Last year, things were different. Feyre and Nyx were at risk, which meant Rhys was, too. Lucien was sleeping here, and there was still an unanswered bond between the two of you."

Elain felt herself stiffening, growing cold. "No, you didn't."

Az sat them up straight, so he could look her in the eye. "No, I absolutely didn't. I would have kissed you then and there, to hell with any consequences."

"Then why? Who--" Elain stopped, eyes narrowing.

He marked the moment of her full comprehension, and nodded once more.

"Rhys stopped you? How could he do such a thing behind my back?" She was seething, anger such as she hadn't known in a long while brewing deep within. "After everything, everything I've been through, every choice I had snatched away… he took another."

She furiously rubbed at the tears flowing unbidden down her cheeks, until calm, callused hands arrested her own; she stilled, sniffing.

"Mother, I'm pathetic."

"No. Never," Azriel breathed. "You are hope woven iron, and stronger than you know. And, while I was also furious with Rhys, and am still angry with him, I am also to blame for what happened that night. I should have told you, or made sure Rhys or Feyre did."

"That--that is true, and thank you for admitting to it." Her voice grew stronger. "Please don't ever keep information about me from me again. My family has always tried to shield me from the smallest of truths, I don't want the same treatment from you."

Still holding her hands, Azriel moved to kneel before her, repentance clearly writ across his features. "Elain, I cannot promise that I won't ever act to protect you, as I assume you couldn't promise to never protect those you love, but I will promise you honesty."

Elain gave him a watery grin. "Those terms are both acceptable and understandable. But I find myself wanting to catch a toad in the garden and have one of your shadows deliver it to Rhys' bed… though Feyre probably wouldn't appreciate it."

Azriel laughed, gathering her into his arms as he stood. Elain's arms twined about his neck as if she'd done it a thousand times before.

"I wonder if she'd understand?" She mused. "But still, probably best not to risk it."

Nodding into the top of her hair, Azriel hummed his agreement.

Wanting suddenly to stand and face him more than anything, Elain twisted her legs; Az let them drop gently to the floor in front of him, his hands sliding to her waist. Breathing deeply, she let her right hand fall from his neck to the centre of his chest, as her left moved to his jaw and stilled. Unintentionally, or perhaps not, his wings stretched wide and resettled behind him, and Elain wondered at their beauty.

"So, you researched human greeting etiquette and the secret language of flowers, hmm?"

Azriel chuckled softly, skimming a hand back up her side in a long, languorous stroke to cover her own on his chest. "I did. But you Made a sweater, if we're comparing effort here." He tapped her nose. "After you and Lucien talked, and decided you weren't interested in each other, I knew I wanted to try again, but I had to make it special to you. I didn't want to rush into it, especially if you were still upset at me."

Elain met his eyes squarely. "I rather wish you had, we could have saved a lot of time."

The strangled laugh that followed her declaration made Elain smile in return, until Azriel turned his full attention back to her once more. Only, this time, there was nothing neutral left in his gaze; under his eyes, she felt completely exposed. But she liked it.

His hand gripped her hip, pulling her into him. Voice low, he breathed, "Oh, my dear. We have all the time in the world."

Any remaining doubt dissolved, and Elain felt herself shiver in response, toes curling into the carpet. Azriel’s nose flared, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was feeling. What his proximity, his voice, did to her.

Drifting up onto her toes without realising it, she found herself whispering into his ear, "I should go to bed."

He froze; that preternatural stillness of which only the most powerful fae were capable. In anyone else it would have set off every ingrained warning signal she had, but in Azriel it didn't just excite her, it thrilled her to the core.

"Yes, you should." His voice was deadly soft.

She could follow his own scent; could feel the need between them growing by the second. She wasn’t going anywhere without him. This thing between them had been building for years, and they had waited long enough.

She felt his hand slip up into the base of her hair and grip just hard enough to make her whimper with need, and he smiled. "You like that, do you?"

Elain nodded. She really did.

Azriel's wings flared out once more, almost hitting the wall, as he used the back of her head to tip her mouth up towards his. She couldn't stop staring at his lips, and she realised, with surprisingly little shame, that she was panting--her heart thundering in her chest as her right hand had clenched the fine material of his jacket hard enough to leave wrinkles.

She could have kicked herself as the people pleaser in her surfaced, and she moved to smooth his lapel. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I don't know what came over me."

Azriel took hold of her hands, putting a stop to her fretting. "Don't be sorry. I like the idea of you leaving your mark on me."

Elain looked up at him, biting her bottom lip. She saw him track the movement, intent in every line of his body, as she said softly, "I--I think I like that idea, too. Of marking you, of being marked by you." Her body practically sang at the thought.

Azriel actually growled at that, the sound washing over her, bringing with it a new wave of need.

She needed him. Now.

His hand was back in her hair, she was looking up at him once more, and it felt as though time had stilled while they waited for the other to break their stalemate. Azriel must have realised that she had used up most of her bravado for one evening, though, because he finally uttered the words she had longed to hear for almost two years.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Elain."

"Yes," she breathed.

"But first, I'm going to take you somewhere private."

She had enough presence of mind left to think of clearing up the evidence of their late night meeting, but Azriel just dropped his mouth to her ear.

"Don't worry, the shadows will deal with it."

"That’s… very handy," was all she could manage.

He chuckled, dark as his shadows themselves. "Yes, they can be."

They were so close their foreheads finally met, and Elain’s heart leapt at the casual intimacy. It was something she had seen her sisters share with their mates over the years, and she had begun to lose hope that she would ever experience such a true act with another.

Tipping her chin up a fraction more, she nudged Azriel’s perfectly straight nose with her own--she'd ponder another day how he had been a warrior for over five centuries and not had it set crookedly after a break--and smiled so brightly the shadows behind him lightened in response.

"So… you mentioned somewhere private?"

Azriel pulled her so close their hips met, teasing her with his hands in her hair and at her waist. When she was nearly wild with need, he finally brought his lips down to hers, grazing them--provoking, soft and perfect--before pulling away with a groan.

"Are you ready?" Was the only warning she received before he had her cradled in his arms once more, though her hands caught on pretty quickly, and found their way to his shoulders; for stability, of course.

Laughing, she asked, "What are you doing? I do have legs, you know."

Wings flaring and shadows rising, Azriel hitched her tightly against him. "I'm embracing you," he growled. "I don't plan to let go for a while."

No sound came out, but Elain’s mouth pouted open as she felt her newly acquired tattoo send tingles down her arm, as if to remind her of its existence.

"Hold tight," Azriel whispered, lowering his mouth to hers once more. "And don't make a sound."

*

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging. 💜

A FEAST - Azriel x readder. Prompt - Reader is injured and knocked out for days. Cassian gets him to finally leave your side for one meal and Nyx brings a guest with him...

"The Dragons Song is the best one, hands down." Nesta argued, hacking through the brush.  "That one is full of the same scenes every time." You judged, pushing a branch out of the way. The jungle was a mess of twists and turns to work through, but thankfully one of the fishermen on the dock had sold you a compass at a descent price. "A little more right for a few more miles and we'll be there." You steered her on course.  "At least it dosent say 'honeydew' every scene." She made a fake gagging noise and you laughed. The sound was muffled in the crowded forest. She hacked her way through the brush, one vine at a time. Until you finally reached the clearing. It was hot in the direct sun, a few degrees different than what the shade of the forest had been. You paced the perimiter, meeting her at the other side. "You mean Cassian dosen't like honeydew?" You wiggled your eyebrows at her.  "Az does?" She challenged, earning a laugh from you. "The ones that you like are predictable beyond measure." You countered, earning a quick smile before your attention snapped across the meadow. To a giant hog serpent with venomous tusks that gleamed with their clear liquid. You swore and you and Nesta both drew swords at the same time.  + Nesta ended the hog, but not before it had the chance for those razor sharp tusks to marr your legs with deep wounds. The venom stung, flowing into your bloodstream and paralyzing you slowly. You gasped at the sheer blinding pain it brought. "Nes-" You choked out between sobs. "Tell Az... Tell Az I love him." You smiled to her, putting a hand on her cheek. "No, no way. You're gonna tell him yourself. Stay awake. We're on the way." She reached deep to that bond to Cassian, and a flare of alertness greeted her. Then, a thrill of fire. "On the way. Rhys will be there in a few. Are you okay?" "Fine, she's delirious. She needs a healer and a detox for the venom." She thought back, sighing when she felt Rhys' presence. "Wheres Az?" You managed out of your chattering teeth. You were losing the fight against the venom quickly. It would have you under in a few minutes if Rhys didn't hurry to a healer. He placed a hand on you and darkness surrounded.  "Cassian will-" He started to Nesta, "I know, get her safe." She rushed, urging him to winnow you already. When Cassian saw the amount of blood spilled, he cursed.  "Most of it was the beast." Nesta cleaned her sword on an overgrown leaf that jutted down into the meadow.  Her hands shook when she sheathed it. "Nes." He stopped her when she turned. "Nes..." He repeated, giving her a long look. She tried to hide her face, the terror there. "Lets go." He pulled her to his side and took off, holding her close to him. He said nothing about the tears that flowed to his shoulder. He just gripped her tighter.   + Azriel had nearly broken the door when he stormed in. And he hadn't left your side since. Nesta stayed when she could, letting Azriel relax enough to sleep now and again. He trusted her to wake him if anything changed in your status.  When he woke, he heard his brother's voice first. Quiet an hurried in tone, him and Nesta argued by the door. "He wont leave. You've already tried, just leave him alone." Nesta was scolding. Cassian gripped her hands, then whipped his head over to his brother when he saw him stretching on the bench.  "Hey Az-" Cassian smiled, bounding over to his brother like a puppy. "You remmeber Madja saying it may take up to a week, right? How about you come to dinner up at the house with us."  "I dont want to miss if she-" "Come on, Nyx will be there. Mor's coming back from the continent tonight too." Cassian tempted, poking at the old flame Azriel carried for the female. She was still incredible, and one of Azriels best friends, but he no longer felt that flame towards her. You had come along and crushed it with a bat of your eyelashes and a few quick witted insults at Cas. Nesta started pulling him away, giving you an apologetic smile. "It would be nice for you to be there is all he means." She began pushing him out the door, despite his protests.  "Think about it! She wouldn't want you to be mourning while she's alive!" Cassian shouted, earning a smack from Nesta. Azriel smiled despite the dark nature of the situation. He pulled a chair up beside your resting body. It had been three days. How would he know if you were awake or not? He tugged on that dark link you shared together, and came up with the same unresponsiveness as before. He sighed, but took your hand anyway, falling asleep again to the sound of your soft breathing. + He decided to stay for just an hour. He would spare his family that much. He kissed you goodbye and tried his best to ignore the guilt he felt for leaving you behind. But Cassian was right. He knew that when you woke up you'd be upset about him not going. So he put on his brave face and flew up to the house of wind, to the joy of everyone. They clapped upon his arrival, making his cheeks burn. Mor gave him a hug and promised to catch up. But she hovered around a fae you hadn't met yet. A female that she watched with wide sparkling eyes. Azriel's chest bloomed with pride at the sight of them being so close, so full of life for each other.  He looked away from the two, and sent his shadows out to Rhys. And found what he was seeking. He darted over to the end of the table where the high lord and lady sat across from each other. The head table was empty, and filthy. "That's a small monster if I've ever seen one." He bent and scooped Nyx up from under the table. He wriggled and laughed.  "No monster Azzy." Nyx babbled, pulling on his uncle's hair.  "No pulling hair!" Rhys scolded, making Nyx laugh even more. Feyre sighed. "You're just having fun. How about we go for a fly down to-" "Don't say it, Az." Rhy's tone went from scolding to pleading. Even though the baby couldn't fly yet, it was one of his favorite things to do. He could see how Rhys' son would be skilled at flying with just the way he angled his head when accompanying. Az poked at Nyx's belly and they fought like that for a few moments, Nyx eventually winnowing away with the joy only a child could have.  Azriel froze, looking to the high lord and lady for comfort. Having a baby disappear in your arms was strange, even for Fae babies. "When'd he start doing that?" "Four days ago." Feyre sighed. She looked utterly exhausted. "We've been having to take turns staying up with him." Rhys held her hand across the table, they shared a sweet look together then they both whipped their heads to Nyx in unison. "Dont-" Feyre warned, giving her son a stern look as he pulled at the tablecloth. Amren gave the boy a look of discouragement as well when he looked around for someone to be laughing with him. He stopped after those silver eyes met his.  Nesta gave Az a smile from across the room where she and Cassian welcomed the toddoling boy. "Let's start training, Nyxie. Come on, show me what you got." Cassian got on his knees to the floor and the two began wrestling together. Azriel took a seat beside Rhys, picking at the crackers and cheese platter before him.  "When were we planning on going back to the Island?" Rhys asked, voice low. Cassian rolled with Nyx on the ground, making Nesta laugh when the boy pulled at Cas' hair. "I'm not going until my mate is healed. Maybe you should send them, see how much trouble they can get in."  Az asked, trying to keep the hinting out of his voice. He wanted to go take care of it on his own. The mission on the Island was not complete and he didn't want to risk anyone again. He'd rather do it and make sure it was a finished job. He couldn't bare to see you be hurt over a fellow Valkyrie getting hurt either. "You know they would kill each other.... or themselves trying to protect the other." Feyre smiled despite herself. She knew it was the truth. Her sister being happy for once was a joy like no other.  "Mom and Dad need to eat, Az you too." Cassian ordered. He bounced the boy on his legs, making him pretend fly. Azriel picked at the plate that appeared before him. The warm meat and stew looked incredible, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. The guilt was the only thing that weighed in his stomach. "I should go check on-" He began to say, folding his napkin back on the table. "How is she?" Cassian interrupted from the floor. Nesta was playing with Nyx now, rattling a toy around for him. Azriel kept his calm mask on, trying to fight the urge to check on you. The black haired boy looked to her with upset eyes. "Auntie?" He said, voice a bit whiny.  "Auntie is napping, she'll be back in a little while." Nes assured. Azriel's heart squeezed at the love Nyx showed. Then, the boy was gone.  The parents were digging into their plates. It was likely the only meal they'd shared together in the four days of taking turns watching Nyx. "Rhys-" Az began, terror sweeping his gut. Nyx was no where in sight. Nesta and Cassian both shot to their feet when they didn't spot him.  Then, the plates in front of Azriel clattered and shot food everywhere. Mor and her date yelped and fled their chairs, mor pushing the other female behind her. Azriel's shadows coiled, siphons glared ready to fight.  And Rhys didnt move as he observed the waking fae before him. The tug on Azriel's bond went taut. "Auntie here!" Nyx celebrated, patting your chest. You groaned and cracked open your eyes to see Azriel's shadows swirling about you. "Are you okay?!" Azriel gripped your shoulders,  his warm hands seeping into your thin shirt. The sweats you wore were now stained with whatever food had been on the table. Rhys put down his fork slowly. "I wasn't expecting to be this kind of snack Az..." You said softly. Rhy's cheeks went red. Mor laughed first, her date looked to her with bewilderment and worry. Cassian rushed over and picked Nyx up from your stomach. "I think there's a fork in my back." You said, voice gruff.  A hysterical laugh bubbled from Azriel, then the rest of them were cracking up. "Nyx... Thanks." Azriel breathed, and the boy began clapping.  + Once you were back on your feet and Madja had given you the go ahead to take it easy, you asked Azriel to go on a walk with you. The stretch of your legs was sore, but the good kind of sore that left you feeling better and better with each step. The cool wind from the Sidra whipped around you. He wrapped a wing around both of you as you reached the apex of a bridge.  "I owe that baby everything." He laughed, squeezing your hand tighter. The city was quiet, only soft music coming from the Rainbow and the calm trickle of the Sidra sounding out. "Nyx the Valkyrie deliverer."  You laughed together, leaning against the railing on the bridge. The streetlights above cast a wonderful color over you, illuminating you both in a silvery shade that matched the moonlight. "I love you." You said, resting your head against his shoulder. It had been a long night, and who knew how long of sleeping... but you were tired.  "Love you." He nudged you away so he could hook his finger under your chin and angle you up to kiss him. You wrapped your arms around him and compiled, letting the bond hum through you like a song.