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#I have no idea how to spoiler content warnings
treeshrine · 3 months
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gonna be real bud if your fic relies so heavily on intense triggering themes and shock value that you're averse to putting warnings on it to "maintain surprise" and "avoid spoilers", then you act like you did nothing wrong when people are upset that you didn't make any effort to turn them away and allow them to protect themselves, while also telling them it's their fault that they read something that upset them when they could have never known it contained specific things that will upset them, i think you are a tar pit
#'warnings are a courtesy!!' yes so why are you apparently averse to being courteous#saying omg fanfiction never used to warn people and print books never warn people so it's not a bad thing if i don't warn you!#that's some 'no one protected me so why should i protect you' type shit#sorry i got recommended this dumb ass post and i had to say something so i'm saying it here#why are you telling people to curate their own experiences while actively making it more difficult to curate their experiences LMFAO#if i read a scene with intensely triggering content without knowing it was there before. 'just closing the book' or 'hitting the back butto#is not protecting myself. how do i protect myself from something I've already read???#diary#like dude it's possible to protect people from spoilers while also protecting people from seeing things that will distress them#i also honestly take issue with people who do a content warning but just say “this gets into some shit” or something of the like.#you might as well have just not said anything because now i'm confused and on edge#instead of able to protect myself properly i have to try and gauge my personal sensitivity against the unknowable factor of#what your idea of “some shit” is#also telling someone to 'just close the book lol' is an incredibly dismissive approach to people being affected by something triggering#you know these things do happen to people in real life. right. but of course who would have empathy for someone who doesn't want to be#reminded of trauma
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kolsmikaelson · 1 month
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AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…
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NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me
WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!
REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀
WORD COUNT — 1.6k
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post
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None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 
You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 
“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 
Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 
“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”
For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 
“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 
“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 
Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 
“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 
“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.
At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 
He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 
I want him to join.
You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 
“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 
Almost. 
“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 
“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 
Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 
The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 
Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 
“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 
“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 
“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 
“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 
Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 
“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”
The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 
They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 
At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 
Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 
“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 
“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 
“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 
“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 
“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’
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shaisuki · 28 days
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SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ
𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦
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FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER
content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.
synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.
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“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”
that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.
he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.
“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.
“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.
you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.
everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.
your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.
he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.
he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.
“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.
michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.
he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.
“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.
sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.
“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.
the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.
building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.
all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.
a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.
“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”
sugar pills.
sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.
michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.
as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.
it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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I just got this idea and I trust your writing the most, I was wondering if you could write ,unless you already wrote this, where the reader steals König or ghost masks or anyone else and their reaction (nsfw or sfw is fine), thank you have a great day :))
König & Ghost's Reaction to their S/O Stealing their Mask
Warnings: Implications of Smut, Dominant Ghost, Dominant König, Territorial Military Men <3, Minor Spoilers of Ghost's Past, Mention of a Size Kink, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You.
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König
Since he's absolutely massive, the ends of his sniper veil literally reach the bottom of your ribcage.
So when König sees you wear it for the first time, he's absolutely F L O O R E D
We don't call him Size Kink König for no reason.
Goes absolutely feral when he sees you draped in his veil.
Can barely keep his hands off you.
"Maus," he husks, fingers twitching as he reaches for you slowly, cautiously, offering you the chance to go with him willingly.
"You don't know what you're doing to me."
Even without the veil, his eyes are dark, a blackness settling over them that, somewhere in your mind, your intuition, has you seeing red.
Regardless of how innocent your intent when acquiring the mask, none of that matters now.
All that does is the growing bulge in König's pants, the shortness of his breath, and his shadow settling over you as he advances on your path.
"You'll be needing that mask more than I will after I'm done with you."
And when you dare to ask "Why ?" now entrapped – eclipsed – by his frame, he just smiles, thin and sharp. Cruel.
He takes you in his arms, pulling you to him, your face almost crushed into his chest.
He laughs. A low rumble – the promise of a natural disaster.
His nose is to yours covered by the veil, a condescending gesture of his prowess and your submission. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
"Because everyone will get a free show to the fallout of an evening you’ve roped yourself into."
As if to prove his point, his hands are at your wrists before you even notice the pressure he's applying there, binding you, pulling you ever closer to him. And in that second, you know you're not leaving your little stunt – the night – unscathed.
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Ghost
Hoo boy.
Okay, it's no secret to anyone who knows Ghost – really knows him – that he's suffered a lot of hardship throughout his life, hencewhy he is the way he is.
Which others may construe as cold, heartless – even soulless.
But that's only because Simon has lost so much.
So when he comes home to find you in one of his masks, smiling up at him (he can tell by the way your eyes crinkle), he's immediately whipped.
And I mean W H I P P E D.
To see the one person he can truly call his own wearing his gear is something he didn't know he needed until now.
Sure, he's seen you in his shirts, but this felt different. More intimate.
Your face was where his usually was, his spectral imprint practically morphed with the contours of your face.
Though it needn't be mentioned, he has a hard time... containing himself.
"Fuuuck me, Darlin'," he rasps, on you like a sickness as he sits on top of you, pinning you to the sofa by your waist.
"Y'look better in that than I do."
And you smile. Something intentional hidden within.
"Hmm... I doubt that." You can feel Simon's body heat rocketing beneath his clothes.
"You know I can't resist you when you wear it."
And that's all it takes to send him over the edge.
You hear his breath shake as he rolls into you ever so slightly, still restraining his whole weight to keep you intact. Something began to prod your abdomen.
"Oh, you're in for it now," he tells you. There is not a single hint of fallacy to his claim or his expression – one of barely stoic restraint.
"You won't be able to do much of anything by the time I'm through with you."
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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slttygeto · 10 months
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SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.
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જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.
જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.
જ⁀➴ word count: 10k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.
ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.
Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.
“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.
“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”
“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.
“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.
Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.
“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.
“Huh?”
“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.
“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.
“Through it all, right?”
“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.
“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.
“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.
“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”
Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.
“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.
“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.
“Where was she during the last fight?”
“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.
It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.
“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.
“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”
--
You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.
The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.
“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.
“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.
“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.
“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”
“Not a little, a lot.”
“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.
Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.
Which made you realize another thing.
“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.
“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.
“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.
“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,�� oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”
You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?
“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”
“I forgot!”
“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”
--
Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.
You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.
It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.
Don’t you dare-
“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.
“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.
Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.
“Is there anything you need or?”
“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”
Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.
“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.
 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.
You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?
“Are you okay—“
“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.
“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”
Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.
I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.
Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.
You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.
The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.
“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.
You two seemed to have that in common.
You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.
“Shit-“
“Ouch.”
You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.
Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.
“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.
“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.
The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.
You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-
“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.
“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.
“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.
“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.
“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.
“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.
“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”
“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.
“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”
“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.
“I am an amazing liar!”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.
“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.
The night seemed to be going pretty well.
--
You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.
The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
“Hey wait,”
“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.
“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.
You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.
“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.
He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.
Mikey<3
--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?
You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.
--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.
Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.
“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.
“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.
You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.
--
Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.
Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.
You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.
“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.
“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.
“Were you expecting a bike?”
“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”
“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.
“Getting shy?”
“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.
“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.
“Mikey—really, focus!”
You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.
His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.
“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.
Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.
You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.
“Were you cooking?”
“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?
“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”
“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.
You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.
“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.
“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.
“Why?”
“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.
“I am not clumsy.”
“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.
“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.
“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“
“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.
“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.
It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.
“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.
“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”
Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.
“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.
“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.
--
Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.
You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.
There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.
He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?
“Mikey?”
“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.
“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?
“You mean as kids or?”
“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.
“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.
“Are you sure-“
“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”
This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.
“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.
“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.
“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”
What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.
“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.
“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.
“Hm?”
“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.
“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.
“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.
--
You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.
He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.
“Mikey-“
“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”
“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.
“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”
“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.
“Goodnight Mikey,”
“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”
You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.
He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
--
Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.
Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.
The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.
You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?
It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.
You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.
“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.
“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.
“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.
“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“
“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”
“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.
“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”
You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.
“How do I make him less scared though?”
“What do you mean?”
“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”
Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.
“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”
--
You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.
Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.
“Is this…?”
“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”
You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.
“What do I do with this?”
“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”
It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.
No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.
--
Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.
He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.
He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.
The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.
There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.
He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?
Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.
He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.
You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.
“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.
You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.
“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.
“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.
“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.
“But sir, why-“
“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.
You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.
Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.
“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.
“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.
“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.
Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.
“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.
He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.
“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.
“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.
“Yours-“
“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.
“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.
“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.
“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.
“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.
Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.
Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.
Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.
“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”
It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.
“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.
You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.
Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.
“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”
“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.
You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.
“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.
“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.
“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.
“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.
“Face down, I need to taste you again.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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ikaroux · 8 months
Text
How are they with their pregnant partner? Itto, Heizou, Lyney.
Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/partner is over the moon. But how would he take care of you during pregnancy?
Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader.
Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.
Alert: May contain story spoilers for some characters.
Characters: Itto, Heizou, Lyney.
Note: Wow, it's been so long since I've written NSFW…. I'm a bit rusty.
Then I'll have to do Aether, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, as well as diving back into rewriting the old texts in this series. I'd also like to do Freminet… Let me know if you're interested in other characters.
Since I now have an AO3 account, I decided to rewrite the first versions of this series to post them on it. I hope you'll still enjoy them.
Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.
Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.
Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.
Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.
Part 5 Tighnari.
Part 6 Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus
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"Ah?! A ba-baby!?"
Itto's reaction was surely overblown, yet the expression on his face was undoubtedly to die for. Mouth wide open, he stared at you in shock, taking a long moment before pulling himself together.
Bursting into laughter, he wrapped his muscular arms around you. "Ha ha ha! I've got to tell the Arataki gang! They'll be so happy to know that their leader will soon be a father! No, wait! I'll announce it to all of Inazuma! Let's have a big party! OYE! SHINOBU!" You hit him hard on the head, red with shame. 
"I forbid you to tell anyone until you're three months pregnant! Have I made myself clear?!" Your stern tone sent shivers up and down his spine. 
"Ah?! Why not now?" You sighed. You may have loved this man with all your being, but he was still exhausting your nerves.
"There's a high risk of miscarriage during this period, which is why I'm asking you not to talk about it... Please. Please." His expression slowly softened as his gaze dipped into yours. Again, he wrapped his arms around you more gently, tenderly kissing your forehead. 
"Understood, boss." You smiled, lovingly returning his embrace.
Itto's behavior during the pregnancy was so exemplary that the members of his gang, Shinobu first, wondered if he hadn't suddenly fallen on his face. He even went so far as to find "honest" jobs here and there to buy you maternity clothes and furniture for his future bedroom.
Your husband had the ingenious idea of consulting the high priestess Yae Miko for advice on your pregnancy... Peculiar. Itto knew of no demon in his circle who had fathered a child with a human. His instincts warned him of the risks you could run with a half-demon baby. Miko will make sure you're taken care of by a midwife who knows the oni world.
You felt terribly ill during your pregnancy. From beginning to end, your vomiting and discomfort drove Itto crazy with worry. You could see him running around looking for anything that would make you feel better. If you were vomiting, Itto would stay with you, stroking your back until it passed. If you felt dizzy, he'd lift you into his arms and sit you on his lap, rocking you gently until you felt better.
Often, you could see your companion admiring you with a blissful expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?" you'd ask him every time, knowing perfectly well his answer. You loved hearing him repeat the same passionate, loving words to you. "I just think you're beautiful. I can't take my eyes off you. Héhé." Itto always had this little blush on his face when he admired your rounded belly. Really, pregnancy made him much softer and more considerate than usual.
You didn't like people touching your belly just because you were pregnant. And it took you a long time to accept that Itto would do it without you grumbling. Yet it was his childlike smile and the stars in his eyes that gradually made you accept the situation.
Itto would often talk to his baby, telling him how his day was going or stories about the oni clans. You could only listen, rolling your eyes as he combined words with gestures. Even so, you couldn't resist stroking your companion's imposing hair, smiling tenderly as you watched him.
When your belly is rounded enough to be visible even from several meters away, Itto will make a habit of always kissing it, amused by the baby's kicks that would distort your belly. "HAHAHA this child will be big and strong, just like his father!"
It was quite amusing to see your companion preparing for the birth of your child, taking crash courses with a few women from your village. Shinobu was obviously making sure that his boss used the right gestures to calm a child's cries, change its diapers or properly hold its baby in his arms.
As expected, the delivery was difficult. Giving birth to a half-demon child demanded a strength your human body didn't possess. Blood loss made you wince and Itto thought for a moment he was going to lose you both. But you showed exemplary strength, and the support of your companion, as well as that of the high priestess, enabled you to pass this difficult ordeal. Your baby's cries echoed through the room, and Itto wept loudly, clutching your hand to his cheek. His tremors and muffled sobs made you smile tenderly, as happy as he was that all had ended well.
Itto was speechless as he took his child in his arms for the first time. Was this little crying creature his baby? The one he'd seen growing in your belly? HIS child?! He was so tiny, so cute with his little scarlet horns barely visible on the top of his skull. Not quite knowing how to soothe his crying baby, you showed him the right way to rock him and... Surprisingly, Itto was extremely good at it...
Your tender oni is said to be a very protective and cheerful father. He wants his child to always see the world in a positive light. He'll sometimes be a bit too daredevil with him, earning your wrath. Fortunately for you, Itto will calm down over the years…
NSFW Bonus
"POUAH, I'm exhausted!" Itto dropped onto the bed, arms and legs spread wide as he let his heavy eyes close. "The Arataki gang gave it their all again today. Hehe, at least we're not causing Shinobu any more trouble!" Watching him out of the corner of your eye, you smiled slyly, striding towards him with hushed steps. The oni opened his eyes abruptly when he felt you climb astride his hips, your hands sensually massaging his bare chest. You'd always appreciated the firmness of his muscles, taking pleasure in exploring each of his curves to discover the most sensitive places he hid. Leaning over him, letting your chest, slightly swollen with pregnancy hormones, rest against his, you nibbled his lower lip. His eyes, immediately filling with desire, couldn't tear themselves away from yours. You could quickly feel your lover hardening beneath you.
"Do you still have enough strength left to care for your companion in need?" You mumble erotically in his ear, teasing his nipples with your fingertips. "I want it terribly~" Itto lifts his hips to meet yours, one of his hands positioning itself on your waist to rock you onto your back.
"Do you feel that?" His hand crept under your clothes, passing the band of your underwear to caress your femininity. "Héhé~ you're already soaking wet darling~ Is it being pregnant that puts you in the mood?" Without giving you time to respond to his comment, Itto enters two fingers deep inside you, making you cry out in surprise. He knew perfectly well where all your sensitive points were, pressing slyly on them to make you moan loudly. Your body sought to escape the delicious torture he was inflicting, his fingers aggressively penetrating you. "Don't awaken the beast in me if you don't want to writhe in pleasure under my ministrations." Itto was a completely different man when he had sex with you, his usually jovial face transforming into a darker expression as his desires got the better of him.
Pregnant or not, he was never one to go out of his way. Itto knew he was big, too big for you, and foreplay was always a mandatory step before he could implant his sex inside you. "Look at you, darling, your breasts are so big with pregnancy. I want to lick them terribly!" Itto grabbed one of your breasts between his lips, adding a third finger inside you as his free hand groped his pants to pull out his excruciatingly hard member. It was too much for you, and your back arched beneath him, your hips swaying to the rhythm of his fingers. You were so close, and seeing him caress himself while he fingered you made you come hard on his hand. Itto pulled away slightly you, leaning toward the other nipple he hadn't yet teased. "Not yet... Not until you can take four inside you." Damn, that damned demon!
Itto looked thirstier than you, his eyes glowing scarlet as he watched you cum with four of his fingers inside you, just as he'd promised. Sex with him had always been sport, but now that you were pregnant, everything seemed more intense. When he finally penetrated you, that damned demon took a malicious pleasure in watching you from all his height, holding your legs close to his hips as he pounded you rigorously. His eager eyes darted between your face distorted with pleasure, your swollen breasts bouncing with each of his hip thrusts and your slightly rounded belly.
Itto was a man of stamina, far more than anything you could take. So when you begged him to stop, the oni would comply at once, fear settling in his brain. Had he hurt you? Was the baby all right? None of the above... But you were clearly close to fainting. Itto, aware that he'd been a bit hard on you, will take care of your body, immersing you with him in a warm bath, his big hands massaging your shoulders. He won't be frightened to see you asleep in his arms, so, taking advantage of your sleep, your companion will cuddle you tenderly, one hand resting on your belly, lovingly caressing it.
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"I'm going to be a dad? Really?"
You smiled tenderly, taking his trembling hands in yours. Heizou's gaze flickered between your eyes and your belly. A baby? You were pregnant?! His mind blurred as a vision of you with a round belly popped into his head. All of a sudden, the word dad sounded pretty good in his head... Kneeling in front of you, Heizou encircled your thighs with his arms, placing a tender ear close to your belly, a joyful smile on his lips. "I'm going to be a daddy... I'm going to be... Daddy!" Slowly, tears rolled down the cheeks of your companion, who had suddenly gone silent. Your hands were lost in his hair, cradling Heizou against you, feeling his tears stain your clothes. You waited patiently for him to calm down before kneeling down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his as a gentle smile stretched your lips. Heizou closed his eyes, resting the palms of his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs lovingly caressing your skin. He breathed in your scent slowly, enjoying it more and more each day.
The two of you remained like this for a long moment, enjoying the tender silence that surrounded you. Images of your future life flashed through your minds. Heizou carrying your child in his arms, his gaze tenderly on him until that tenderness was directed at you...
Heizou was nothing but sweetness and tenderness to you. Even before carrying his child, this man never raised his voice at you or refused to take you in his arms. He loved to cuddle you, take care of you and listen to you. Sometimes, he would take you on his lap and listen to you affectionately talk about your future child, imagining your future life with him. You could sometimes see a dreamy smile stretch your companion's lips, as he imagined, just like you, this wonderful life.
Kazuha was a close friend of yours, so he was one of the first to be informed of your pregnancy. What a surprise when he knocked on your door, a gentle smile on his lips, holding your letter in his bandaged hand. "I've asked Beidou to make a little detour to come and see you. Congratulations, both of you." The two men weren't very tactile compared to you, who didn't hesitate to hug him in thanks. "Hehe, expect the title of Uncle Kazuha! What do you think Heizou? Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"; "Pretty good indeed." Heizou replied, a warm smile on his lips. To tell the truth, Kazuha didn't mind and, in a way, was happy to know that a family would now be waiting for him back in Inazuma.
Your companion's job was a constant source of anxiety for you. The midwife had gently admonished you for this, reminding you that stress during pregnancy could be bad for you and the child. Heizou, who accompanied you that day, bowed respectfully to her, promising to do all he could to calm your anxieties. Obviously, you were feeling terrible as you left the surgery, crying your eyes out in your companion's arms. Heizou comforted you tenderly, murmuring words filled with love. After this episode, he promised you he wouldn't take any more potentially dangerous commissions for the rest of your pregnancy…
For a few weeks, you'd been practicing cooking for your future baby. Heizou was sort of your test subject, trying to create colorful and cute bento. He enjoyed it every time, looking forward to seeing what you had prepared for him. He loved the little octopuses you made with the sausages, or the animal-shaped onigiri. His favorite was surely the pink onigiri that strongly resembled a fox. He was sure you'd tried to imitate Lady Yae Miko in her yokai form.
Heizou was sitting comfortably on your bed, one hand tenderly caressing your scalp while your head rested on his thigh. You could feel his other hand warmly covering your six-month-old belly, occasionally enjoying the little kicks his child gave through you. Heizou's fingers had always had this magical effect on you, weighing down your eyelids as sleep slowly invaded. Heizou was happy to have you in his arms, confident and at peace, pampering and cherishing you. Your breathing was a soothing sound to his ears and the movements of his child against his hand, an affectionate warmth he loved to feel.
"Heizou, promise me you'll stay with me through the birth! The closer the fateful date gets, the more I'm afraid of what's going to happen..." Your companion took you in his arms, gently caressing the small of your back. "I promise I'll be there, from the beginning, until the end." His lips kissed your forehead, moving down your nose until they settled on your lips. "Together... Even if I end up with a crushed hand, I'll stay by your side." You laughed, hitting his arm without force. "Everything will be okay, Y/N... I love you."
Your companion managed your first contractions with impressive composure. He quickly took you to the midwife's office, insisting on staying by your side all the way, as he had promised. Your companion kept your hand in his, occasionally wiping your forehead with a cool cloth. He encouraged you all the way, worrying about your cries of pain. He knew it could last several hours, and seeing you suffer helplessly gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite the context, he promised himself to remind you later of all the curses you'd shouted against him and the gods, while your mind was clouded with pain. He would surely have laughed if he hadn't seen the tears rolling down your cheeks…
Heizou remained silent for a long time, as he gazed with tear-filled eyes at his infant, comfortably ensconced in the crook of his arms. Sitting cautiously by your side, he finally dared to explore his child's chubby face, tenderly brushing his cheeks, nose and little lips. Curious, he placed a finger in the hollow of his palm, his little hand automatically tightening around it. Heizou let his tears flow, leaning gently towards his baby to kiss the top of his head, then towards you, lovingly claiming your lips.
Heizou will be a very warm and instructive father. He wants his child to be able to learn all sorts of things for himself, encouraging his curiosity and intellect. He will never be too hard or too strict with him, preferring to explain things several times rather than let him give up. He doesn't expect his child to follow in his footsteps, but he'll still be happy when he tells him he wants to become a great detective, just like him.
NSFW bonus:
You were naked, leaning over the bathtub to check that the water temperature wasn't too hot, completely oblivious to the olive eyes staring back at you with a brilliant gleam of desire. Heizou approached you, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. His hand rested on your belly as his bare chest pressed against your back. You shivered as his teeth nibbled your earlobe. "You really are gorgeous..." He murmured sensually as his hands worshipped every inch of your skin.
"Hei-Heizou, you really are insatiable! We've already made love today! Twice!" You growl without any real motivation, your lover's hands slowly kneading your chest. You hear him giggle against your ear, pressing his hips against your buttocks.
"Is that a problem? I can easily guess you want this as much as I do..." That man and his damned intuitions! You quickly gave up the fight as Heizou sensually lowered one of his hands between your thighs, teasing your femininity with his fingers. "You're so wet already~ Is it pregnancy that's got you all worked up?" Heizou pinched your nipple as one finger penetrated you with ease, making you squeal against him.
"Stop teasing me for a moment! I need you..." You begged, your fingers encircling Heizou's wrist. Your companion breathed an amused laugh, withdrawing his hand from you to guide you to the bathtub. He didn't need to fight your desires, because after all... He wanted the same thing you did.
Heizou kissed you with tender passion, his hands resting on your hips helping to lift you onto his member. And as he pulled away from your lips to better admire you, seeing you gasp, head slightly tilted back and lips parted under the influence of pleasure swelled his heart with pride. He was the one who put you in this state... Singing his name as he touched all your sweet spots... You were so sensitive with pregnancy, it made him dizzy. He couldn't help it, he needed to see your flushed face, hear your moans of pleasure. Heizou had always enjoyed sex with you, but pregnancy made you so needy that he lost control…
It was so good to feel your hands in his hair, your body pressed against his with only your hips swaying on his shaft. Heizou loved breathing in your perfume, tasting your skin, having your little round belly against his stomach and your voice so close to his ear... Unable to take it any longer, Heizou helped you speed up the pace of your back-and-forth, making you cry out his name. He wanted to feel you cum, to have your walls tight around him. Heizou licked hungrily at your neck, grunting against you as he savored the tension rising in your abdomen, indicating that you were nearing your climax. And when, at last, you freed yourself from that merciless knot, squeezing his member in sweet, pleasurable torture, Heizou released into you. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as his hand tenderly caressed your back, murmuring soft words against your neck, feverish kisses wetting your skin.
Heizou will help you wash, towel and dress, taking you back to your room to rest... Until the next round.
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"I'd really like to start a family with you, Y/N."
That's what he'd said to you one night, as he cuddled you in bed after a session of passionate lovemaking. How could you refuse him? You felt ready, and so did he.
A month later, when you were suffering from persistent vomiting and exhaustion, Lyney decided to take you to see a doctor as a matter of urgency. How could he not be concerned, seeing you in this state for over a week? And why didn't Lynette seem more concerned about your condition? He didn't have time to ask himself these questions. Your health was all that mattered to him...
"Congratulations, you're pregnant." declared the doctor with a big smile. Lyney, sitting beside you, remained silent, his eyes wide with surprise, unlike yours, which had a smile stretching to your ears.
As you left the practice, you walked quietly through the streets of Fontaine, Lyney at your side. He hadn't said a word since you left the office... And that began to worry you. Did he regret it? "Lyney... ?" Whereas up until now, your gazes had fled each other, you put aside the fear knotting your stomach to confront him... And then, as you turned to face him, you saw them... His tears streaming down his cheeks... "Lyney! Why are you crying?! Don't... Don't you want this child?" Suddenly he took you in his arms, embracing you warmly as his face hid in the hollow of your shoulder. "Y/N... I promise I'll do anything to make sure our child has a wonderful life! I swear it! I'll take good care of him. Both of you. You'll never want for anything! *snif *. Thank you, Y/N. I love you, mon amour. I love you so much." It was your turn to cry, the pressure knotting your stomach disappearing with his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Yes, you were going to build your own home. A home filled with joy and happiness...
Lyney would be surprised to see you so clingy with him. To tell the truth, it was usually his job to be clingy. You didn't want him to leave your side or take his hand away from your skin... Pregnancy made you very emotional, and only Lyney's smell, his presence, his warmth comforted you... He never complained, and to tell you the truth, he loved it. Receiving free hugs or feeling you curl up around him like a koala when you slept always made him smile stupidly.
He'd obviously let Lynette and Freminet know, although both seemed to have already guessed your condition... He was happy to see his family accept your pregnancy with such joy. His sister and little brother were very close to you and, like Lyney before them, promised to do everything in their power to make their nephew's/niece's life a wonderful dream.
Lyney would bend over backwards to meet your needs. Pregnancy made you very greedy and your desires were sometimes... Wacky. Why were you suddenly craving a bowl of soba, a dish that was only served at Inazuma? No matter! He would learn to cook it to please you...
When you became pregnant, you and Lyney were just engaged. Seeing that your belly was getting rounder, Lyney thought you'd look gorgeous in a wedding dress. And he wasn't wrong... On your wedding day, when he first saw you in it, the harmonious curves of your belly making you even more sublime, he froze in front of your beauty. You were beautiful, as bright as the sun, as soft as spring, as gorgeous as the rainbow rose. He could hardly believe that this incredible being would not only be his wife, but also the mother of his child.
"Lyney!" Your husband gasped as he heard your angry voice calling his name. Your mood swings had been quite hazardous since your pregnancy, and your husband's slightest misstep sent you into a tizzy. "I told you not to leave your magic accessories lying around the apartment! I'm not asking you for heaven!" Lyney was quick to apologize, immediately putting his things away. After that, he always knew how to make amends, kissing every part of your face, massaging every sore spot on your shoulders, whispering words of love to you.
He loved to make you sit between his legs, tenderly caressing your belly to feel his child against his palms. He loved having you against him, your hands resting tenderly on his to guide him to the places where you felt the baby move. The first time he felt it, he marveled as children do at his magic tricks. He wondered if he knew that the hands on his mother's belly were those of his father, or if he recognized his voice... And you were sure he did, because every time Lyney spoke to him to tell stories, your baby seemed to react, bubbling in your belly. "Hey, mon petit ange, do you know how Daddy managed to seduce Mommy? No ? Then let me tell you a story~... It all started with a rainbow rose..."
Since you were pregnant, you had learned to knit. Lyney was silently raving behind the back of the sofa where you were sitting, humming a few nursery rhymes while you finished your work. Leaning back on the backrest, his chin resting on his arms, Lyney admired you with loving eyes, listening to the sound of your voice while you remained oblivious to his gaze, too focused on the little socks you were lovingly knitting. At that very moment, Lyney felt blessed by the gods... You were a true blessing in his life.
At times, Lyney was filled with doubt. His childhood had been miserable, he had never known the love of a parent, only the cruelty of Men. The hearth had given him and his sister a home and a family, but even so, Lyney hadn't had a childhood. Would he really be able to give his baby a happy childhood? Would he be able to preserve his innocence? He had promised himself to be strong, as a husband, but also as a father. He often discussed this with you, exposing his darkest fears. You were his light, always finding the right words to illuminate his darkest thoughts.
You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and the contractions were becoming more and more present. Lyney, tormented by your suffering, stayed by your side, keeping you upright and helping you breathe deeply to ease the pain. As soon as the contractions subsided, Lyney took the time to help you sit up, then took care of your belongings. You were close to delivery and it was out of the question for you to take care of anything while he was around. The midwife was already aware of your close contractions thanks to Lynette, and Freminet kept an eye on you, occasionally refreshing your sweaty forehead. As soon as he was ready, Lyney called a carriage to take you quickly to the Fontaine maternity hospital. It had, quite literally, become a family affair...
Although the birth lasted only four short hours, Lyney was heartbroken to hear your cries of pain. The pain on your face made him lose his mind, and even though your hand was crushing his, he paid it no mind - after all, his pain was nothing compared to yours. All he wanted to do was encourage you and pray for the best... He was scared... Although Fontaine's technology ensured that pregnant women were well cared for, tragedies could still happen. Finally, when he heard the baby's first cries echoing through the room, he allowed himself to breathe. Crying his eyes out, he kissed your forehead several times, hoping to convey all the love he felt for you. "Bravo mon amour, you did it. You've done it. I'm proud of you..."
The first time Lyney saw his baby in your arms, his eyes would fill with tears, bellowing how beautiful he was and how much he looked like you... Almost hesitating to take his baby in his arms, Lyney trembled as he became aware of the reality of this being so small, so fragile... His child. Stars shone in Lyney's amethyst eyes as a happy smile stretched his lips. Gently, he placed a kiss on his baby's forehead, promising that he would always be by his side and do everything in his power to protect him.
Lyney will be an exceptional father. He will look after his child with care and tenderness, using his magic tricks to make his child's eyes shine with joy. As he promised, Lyney will do everything to make your life beautiful. He was a loving, caring, funny and magical father and husband...
Bonus NSFW:
You heard the sound of a door closing, indicating that Lyney had just returned from his magic show at the opera. Abandoning everything you were doing, you rushed to the entrance to find him... No one. The living room perhaps? You quickly made your way there, finding your companion slumped in the armchair, admiring with a gentle smile the stuffed animal he held over his face. You had knitted it for your baby, modeling it on the amethyst-eyed cat he camouflaged in his top hat... Gently, you approached Lyney, gazing at his beautiful, moonlit features. When he finally noticed you, his face lit up as he lovingly whispered your name. His hand reached out to you, inviting you to sit on his lap. Your heart palpitated, happy to accept his attention. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him all day, or maybe pregnancy and its hormones were making you feel unbearably lonely. Whatever the case, this sense of urgency led you to him at a run, your fingers curling tenderly around his.
"I've missed you, mon amour." Lyney helped you settle astride him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth he radiated as he pulled you firmly back against his chest made you want more....
"I missed you too..." You whispered back to him, eager for his attention, wanting more than just a hug. You felt insatiable, on the brink. It had been weeks since you'd been thrilled by him, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wanted to claim you... Was it your belly that was stopping him? Had he built a wall between you and himself to prevent him from giving in to his deep-seated desires? Yet when he saw the need in your eyes, Lyney languorously moved one of his hands up to your hair, tracing a slow line down your back to your neck before following the path of your jaw. Once he reached your hair, he gently grabbed a tuft, bringing your face close to his, your lips brushing lightly against his. Aaaah~ You could already feel him hard against your groin…
"Y/N, if you look at me with those eyes.... I don't know if I could hold it in... But I don't know if it's wise for me to make love to you in your state, ma chérie... Tell me to stop if you don't want it to get out of hand..."
Grabbing his shirt, you closed the distance between you and his lips, kissing him with need, your hips pressing a little harder against his erection. You needed him as much as he needed you... Now!
"I asked the midwife about it... She said it was safe..." You murmur against his lips before diving back into your kiss. That man was so weak under you...
Lyney took the time to prepare you with his fingers, encouraging your hips that moved sensuously to the rhythm of his hand working you languorously. Your companion always went slowly with his foreplay, starting first with teasing caresses on your clitoris before inserting a finger then two between your walls. His thumb, which was not devoid of agility, massaged your swollen nerve, almost making you moan loudly into his neck. Lyney was never silent during your intercourse, even when he wasn't yet sheathed inside you, he felt a torturous pleasure just by hearing the sounds you produced under his ministrations... Your belly had taken on a few curves with the pregnancy, and Lyney took a malicious pleasure in caressing it with his free hand, whispering words of love to you.
"Y/N~ Seigneur... I love you, ma chérie. I love you both... When I think that you- Hm! - carrying my child... It drives me crazy! I don't know why- Ahh~ - it puts me in such a state!" His hips crushed your heart as he withdrew his fingers to unbutton his pants, freeing his painfully hard, engorged member. "If you weren't already pregnant, I'd make sure you were tonight!"
"Ly-Lyney!" You cried out in pleasure as he began to penetrate you inch by inch, making you tremble on top of him. It felt so good it made you dizzy.... Lyney clung to you, rocking your hips with his hands to help him reach the bottom. You were so tight around him that he was sometimes forced to stop to help you relax.
"Relax mon amour... I don't want to hurt you... Ah! You're tight!" When he finally reached the bottom, Lyney stroked your back limply, his face buried in the hollow of your neck. You were both panting, drenched in sweat and trembling. The clothes still on you were becoming suffocating and you had to pull away from him to get rid of your top and bra. As you did so, your eyes never left Lyney's, who mimicked your actions, throwing his own clothes away before pulling your face towards him. His tongue forced your lips open, tangling with need around yours. It was a sloppy kiss, fueled by the desire you had for each other. This simple fact made your lover far more needy, his member trembling inside you. No longer having the patience to wait, you slowly lifted your hips, leaving only the tip of his sex inside you, before moving back down to the guard... It was a languorous dance, where your breaths served as music. 
Lyney would move slowly, his member touching the deepest, most sensitive parts of your femininity. He'd manage to make you see the stars with so little effort, sometimes changing your position to sit in reverse cowgirl or simply tipping you gently over onto the living room table, legs braced on his shoulders as he sensually pounded you. Your pleas drove him mad, always asking for more... And by the seven, he loved it.
After your escapades, Lyney would make a point of carrying you to bed, cleaning you thoroughly with a warm towel and kisses lost on your skin. You quickly fell asleep under his gentle caresses, giving him the opportunity to whisper words of affection to your belly. His hands tenderly cradled your belly as he rested his head on it, feeling the slight movements of his little one.
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koinotame · 1 month
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how dangerous the twst cast is as yanderes
content warnings: this is yandere stuff so plenty of relationships and mindsets of questionable healthiness. reader implied to be yuu. mentions of murder and violence (nothing explicit/graphic, but frequent. mostly not aimed at reader). most are pretty ambiguous wrt being romantic or platonic (though it’s assumed they have an at least somewhat close relationship with you). i don’t think there’s any explicit spoilers but this was written with mostly-up-to-date knowledge so maybe beware if you really want to avoid any spoilers
whole main cast is included, under the cut for length (near 4k words)! if you read ortho's section as incestuous or romantic in any other way i will shoot a laser beam at you.
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fairly harmless overall ▸ i actually normally wouldn't put them together, but in either case i can't see either of the adeuce duo being too dangerous to others. yeah, they might beat someone up for getting too close to you or hurting you, but i really really can't see either of them going much farther. deuce in particular used to be a delinquent, and he does sometimes slip back into that mindset, and he does know how to beat someone up well… but he's a good boy now. your good boy. even in his delinquent phase he would've never actually killed someone, and the idea horrifies him a little too much to ever seriously consider. ace has a bit less restraint, but also a lot less experience. what he lacks in experience he does more than make up for in wit and quick learning, but… while the thought does cross his mind occasionally, he wouldn't be able to stomach actually killing someone either. he'll beat someone up if they hurt you or you ask him to though. unlike deuce, he'll probably brag about it to you if he knows your reaction would be positive.
▸ don’t you worry! your cay-kun would never kill someone! in fact, cater is very unlikely to get violent at all. when he gets jealous (which happens pretty often), he turns that bitterness inside. what do they have that he doesn’t? do you like quieter guys? is he too obsessed with magicam? do you not like the way he doesn’t let you in unless you push, because he’s too afraid you won’t like what you find and leave? is he not affectionate enough? do you not like his hair? it doesn’t matter what it is about him that you don’t like, about others that you do like. he’ll fix the problem; he’ll fix himself. he’s already used to putting on acts around others—this isn’t that different. even if it’s not him you like at this point, as long as he can stay by your side, it’ll be fine. there’s a desperate edge to his actions that’s hard to spot, but once you have is impossible to unsee. as long as you continue liking him, he’ll throw away who he is—just. don’t throw him aside once you’re bored of him, okay? keep him around forever. please. ▸ jack is another that’s fairly harmless. it’s in his nature to be overprotective, and he doesn’t see much wrong with that, but he has no issue with your friends and he’s pretty reasonable at telling apart actual threats from things like jokes. he’s much like your guard dog… or maybe he’s more like guard puppy, with the way you doubt he’d ever actually hurt anyone despite his big stature. he’s embarrassed when you tell him this, but the wagging of his tail gives away just how much he likes knowing you’re okay with—even like—his constant presence. he’s not… completely against going behind your back when someone is actually about to hurt you to deal with he issue, though. just… just occasionally, when it’s really necessary. he won’t make a habit of it. he just… doesn’t want you to see him like that. he’d never want to scare you. that’s all.
a bit less harmless but not by (too) much ▸ riddle is good and well behaved and refuses to resort to something as drastic as violence or murder, or at least he’s trying very hard to convince himself so. he’s definitely somewhat tyrannical to everyone around you even after he mellows out after his overblot, and he has no hesitation in punishing those who hurt or displease you, especially his own dormmates. even once both of you graduate, this habit of his never quite vanishes. he gets a little frantic if you show disapproval of his actions though, especially if you seem scared of him. he’s desperate to prove that he’s good and loves you and would never hurt you, and if that means toning down his ardour, he’ll try his best. the stress of possibly losing you just makes him all the more overbearing to everyone around him. he’s trying his best for you though, so… don’t you love him as much as he loves you? won’t you turns your eyes back to him and only him? ▸ kalim would never kill someone! nor would he have someone be killed. but his family's wealth and influence extends far, and anyone seeking to hurt you (or him through you) would be a fool to think otherwise. he'd never kill someone, but making sure they end up rotting in prison for the rest of their life is just doing the right thing! he might be a little blinded by his panic, sure, but— they tried to hurt you! if he's really jealous (something that doesn't happen often—he only has eyes for you, after all, so he tends to not think too much about others), it's not hard to just have them transfer. or be fired. or something. he won't tell you outright, but if you ask he sees no point in hiding it from you. if you don't react well, he gets a little frantic and insists that he really really really wouldn't ever go farther than that…! probably. ▸ epel getting into yet another fistfight for you is something you’ve grown unfortunately used to. you’re frankly convinced he outright wants you to see at this point, maybe in some misconceived idea it’ll make you think he’s tough, with the way he runs up to you like a puppy expecting praise afterwards. he’ll be torn if you fuss over him afterwards—on one hand, he wants you to think he’s tough and your coddling doesn’t really give the impression that you understand that, but it feels really, really nice when your attention is focused on only him. but as unrestrained as epel is, he’s not particularly dangerous. if you seem really put off by his actions, he might even rein it in a little (vil is glad for your cooperation, even if that wasn’t your intention). he’s more preoccupied with earning your attention and approval than he is with stuff like keeping other suitors away from you. ▸ i just think it’d be really funny if despite everything about him, rook is one of the most harmless. he’s the type of yandere to have a shrine (it’s not in his closet because he has no shame) and have his room covered in notes about you but who’d never actually kill someone. he’s also… the type who enjoys and loves everything about you. to rook, the journey is more important than the destination, and that includes you. the you on your own, the you around your friends (not that they’ll stick around too much once they notice rook), and the you around him are all different and equally worth loving. he’s not exactly shy about his stalking either, but once you get used to his constant presence, it doesn’t really get worse. maybe a little more intense, but not worse. he’s fine with pretty much any way you want to treat him, too—whether you treat him like a beloved pet or a plaything or act like you don’t know or notice him, he’ll love you all the same. forever.
holds themselves back… but not because of ethics ▸ when trey thinks about the future he wants with you, he allows himself to imagine what it would be like to be so wholly engrossed in each other that everything else might as well not exist. unfortunately, the two of you live in real life and not in a fairy tale, so he’s settled for the idea of eventually settling down and growing old with you. it’s… not entirely ethics that holds him back. he’s aware that most of the urges he gets when he sees you around others or when he sees you get hurt in someway are immoral, and he reigns himself in. aside from some people in your life suddenly finding it odd how the ever dependable senior suddenly doesn’t seem to like them much and has been giving them the cold shoulder, most people are very unlikely to realise there’s anything off about trey… including you. just let him be your normal (if fairly fussy) boyfriend, okay? and if he occasionally slips a bit of a sleeping potion into your food and masks the taste with his unique magic so you end up staying the night just so he can spend a little more time with you… that can be his little secret. ▸ it's definitely not ethics that holds ruggie back, but it would be a serious problem if he gets caught killing someone. or even just gets particularly violent with someone else. he'd do it in a heartbeat, especially for you (especially if you asked him), don't get him wrong, but, well— if he goes to jail, he's fucking his family over. if he goes to jail, he won't be able to provide for you in the future—or have any sort of relationship with you. his resolve might waver if you were to actually ask, but even then he’s determined to stick to actions he can reasonably get away with. it's not uncommon for him to use laugh with me to embarrass any guys he thinks are getting too close to you though, and it's not too hard to be discreet with his unique magic when someone really deserves to fall face down a flight of stairs. or three. oopsie. odd they don't remember it, huh? well, he had nothing to do with that. ▸ jamil is a bit more restrained. murder is fine (it’s definitely not his first resort, but it’s there as an option if he really needs it—he did kind of try to kill five people, even if it was during his overblot), but using snake whisper is just so much more convenient… most of the time. due to his position as a servant of kalim, he has to carefully consider any actions he takes unless he wants there to be dire consequences for his family. unfortunately for him, this means he can’t just beat up anyone getting too close to you no matter how much he may feel like it. his unique magic does work well for him here though—and he’s not opposed to using more force if there’s a good reason (like impressing you and getting complimented by y—ehem. making sure your bullies won’t bother you again). the one person he’d rather not use his unique magic on is you. what he likes so much about you is that you’re choosing him of your own volition, and that’s worth more than any force could get him.
not the worst, but… ▸ azul tries really, really hard to keep everything he does behind your back, well. behind your back. he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty, but it would be a serious problem if you found out about the students he's been tricking into unfair contracts just because he got jealous. and it'd be one thing if it ended there, but more than that… if anyone hurts you, the tweels haven't amassed a certain reputation for nothing. if azul’s this fond of you, there’s a very high chance they’re familiar with you as well—and even if they weren’t, azul being jealous enough to send them after people that aren’t even remotely threatening your relationship is amusing enough for them to comply. he won’t go too far though, no matter how envious he may get. ruining someone’s reputation, having the twins beat them up or tricking them into unfair deals is one thing, but even someone like azul wouldn’t resort to cold-blooded murder. ▸ remember when vil, pretty lucid, tried to poison neige? yeah. with his unique magic and social standing, it would be really easy to get rid of anyone causing you issues. of course, with you being aware of his unique magic, he’d have to be careful to make sure you don’t realise, so it’s something he’d reserve for only actual emergencies. it’s also a lot easier to abuse his influence and fame to keep others away from you, whether it’s by threatening them himself or getting others to do his dirty work for him. when it comes to you and keeping your attention on him, he finds it much more rewarding to keep working on himself to meet your standards and doting on you even much than he already does. keep your eyes on him and only on him, won’t you? he’ll make it worth your while. ▸ idia, as a yandere, is incredibly desperate. he’s already perfectly content (well, not perfectly, but content enough) to just watch you through his screen and maybe chat with you online (with your anonymous pal who you definitely don’t know irl, of course), so if he gets lucky enough to be with you for real, there’s very little he won’t be willing to do to ensure it stays that way. in practice this means trying to appeal to you more than anything else; if you seem even the slightest bit unhappy with him, he’s desperately trying to fix it immediately. do you think he’s too offputting? he’ll cover his mouth and hair and— are you mad because he tried to convince you to ditch your friends and just stay with him again? he’s sorry! he doesn’t have an excuse, he’s just scared that you’ll realise you could do so much better and don’t like him that much after all. sometimes he thinks about how he definitely has the resources for more forceful and permanent measures, but then you smile at him, or tell him his smile is pretty, or run your fingers through his hair, or laugh at a comment he made and his mind goes blank and gives him a 404 error. there’s no way he could ever give that up just for some measly certainty… though the same can’t be said for those who he gets too jealous of or those who hurt you. not that you need to know that.
not needlessly violent ▸ sebek is… very enthusiastic about the things he dedicates himself to. this includes you. if you thought his devotion to malleus was excessive, it’s even worse when it comes to you. while he has no personal issues with fighting if it means protecting you (whether that protecting includes only actual threats is debatable), he takes pride in his position as malleus’ retainer. this means that no matter how he feels, he has to consider how his actions would make briar valley and his lord look. he also doesn’t really get jealous. instead (and this is almost worse), he has his own idea of how everyone else should treat you and he does get aggressive with others if he doesn’t think they’re treating you right. you deserve a heavy amount of respect and he finds it very aggravating when others don’t give you that (see: treat you like a regular person). he’s not subtle either—if anything, going behind your back on this would go against his values. he wants to be useful to you!!! he wants you to know how much he cares and how you’re superior and the one with all the power in this relationship!!! the good thing is he listens to everything to ask of him, no matter how ridiculous he finds you insisting you prefer being treated casually by your friends and peers. ▸ silver, while less outwardly enthusiastic, is no less devoted. he doesn’t really get jealous (there’s a dull ache in his chest when he sees you with others and thinks about the possibility of someone being more important to you than you are to him, but that’s not jealousy, right?), and he’s fairly realistic about what counts as a threat to you and what doesn’t. the problem is that as soon as something crosses that threshold, he’s drawing his wand (or baton. or sword. he’s trained and prepared with all three). it’s almost scarier than if he were enjoying it, because you have absolutely no clue how far he’s willing to go for your safety—or if he even has any limits when it comes to you. he has a rather twisted view on relationships, and that extends to you. you’ve been so kind and accommodating and caring, and he needs to repay you for that. he’s insistent on serving you, because his entire self worth (and by extension any care you’ve gracefully granted him) relies on being useful. also doesn’t really see himself as your proper equal, though he’s less aware of this compared to sebek, and also listens well to just about anything you ask of him. if it’s for you, he’d do anything. ▸ you have a very different definition of "not needlessly violent" than lilia, but it’s at least true he doesn’t go around picking fights. he's not bothered at all by baby chicks clinging too close to you. if anything, he might pop into the conversation and agree with them—you are great and wonderful and adorable and so much more! it makes the conversation kind of awkward, and whoever you were talking to might not seek you out as much afterwards, but beyond teasing you there's never any indication that he goes any further. of course, violence is something he’s been very accustomed to over his long life, so when someone actually hurts you he has no issue with getting the message across in a more… drastic way. as soon as he's done, he's right back to coddling you. they won't be repeating the same mistake again, so don't worry too much about it and stick close to him from now on, okay?
very needlessly violent ▸ violent probably isn’t the best way to describe leona, but he doesn’t hold back when it comes to you. what, you think he’s just going to sit back and let you go? you’re the best thing that’s happened to him, like hell he’s going to not put in the proper effort in keeping you. …even if you’re not sure if you entirely agree with the sentiment. he gets jealous very often, so it’s common to see him glowering and scaring off anyone he deems too close to you. there’s no need to go further when he knows they’ll leave you both alone afterwards, but the threat only works as well as it does because he has both the magical prowess and social influence to make good on his promises. he’ll insist he doesn’t see them as threats so much as pests hanging around and leeching off of you, but there’s some part of him deep down that’s scared you’ll decide you like someone else better after all. he’s not sure he could take even you leaving him. any actual danger to you is also dealt with quickly, and while he doesn’t want to threaten you into it, you won’t have an easy time abandoning him even if you try. you were the one who wormed your way into his life—you don’t get to leave now. ▸ yeah. lol. the tweels are very, very needlessly violent. perhaps not the most Dangerous in the grand scale, but almost definitely some of the most unpleasant. for their victims, at any rate—though they do occasionally (or not so occasionally) nearly give you a heart attack. they’d never seriously harm you though… probably. or actually kill anyone. right…? floyd tends to be the most immediately dangerous. he’s quick to turn to violence (and to get a little too into it) when you’re involved, even more than usual. someone’s bothering you? someone’s getting a bit too close to you in his opinion? you just want him to? you’re not paying enough attention to him and he knows this’ll get your focus back on him, where it should be? :) he’s not too hard to pacify, at least when it’s you offering to let him rest on your lap or offering to spend the whole day with him. jade is usually clocked as less dangerous than floyd, but. well. you know that line he says when he ruminates on how he’d react if betrayed? yeah. unlike floyd, who’s very open about his misdeeds, you’re not actually sure what jade does behind your back. you don’t want to know. the way some people in your life pale and flee at the sight of you, the way you don’t see some of them again at all, and the way jade smiles when this happens tells you all you need to know. what would happen if you betrayed him? fufu, you’d never do that so there’s no need to worry about it. ▸ didn't he attempt to blow up the school once… 💀 yeah, as cute as ortho is he's not exactly built with too many stop guards. the good news is he's easy to dissuade! the bad news is he's also very quick to escalate to really ridiculous levels. you're his older sibling, it's only natural he'd want to protect you! are you sure you don't need him to blow them up? chances are the threat alone worked well enough to deter anyone from messing with you again. you might want to have a conversation with idia about limiting some of ortho's abilities though because his enthusiasm… is a little very concerning… he does get a little jealous occasionally, but it's much easier to insert himself in the conversation and steal your attention that way. isn't your little brother cute? won't you focus some more on him? please?
▸ malleus is… malleus. violence isn’t his first resort, largely because it just… doesn’t need to be. he’s one of the five most powerful mages in the entire world. that title alone is enough to scare off anyone who’d mean to hurt you or is getting too close to you, so he rarely has to intervene in the first place. he also doesn’t mind you having other friends (though he does get lonely in your absence… make sure to make it up to him afterwards), so he really only steps in when you’re in danger. he’s not particularly worried about getting caught by you, because he’s so out of touch that it doesn’t occur to him that you may not appreciate him turning anyone who hurt you into ashes. if anything, he enjoys showing off how capable of keeping you safe he is. he’s defending you, who he cares about most in the world; why would that upset you? if you try to spin it as being worried about him getting into trouble for killing someone, he’ll be very pleased you’re worried about him instead. the only thing that would crack his calm attitude is any sort of reminder that he will long, long outlive you… but it’s best not to dwell on that. fret not, he won’t ever let you go.
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
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Ch1: New Beginnings
teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k
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Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.
Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).
A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx
series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog
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August 2024
“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned. 
The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?
“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”
Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams. 
“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements. 
Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”
“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much. 
“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”
Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had. 
Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath. 
Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”
“Frankie, please,” he corrects. 
“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”
Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off. 
“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.” 
Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person. 
So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way. 
He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert. 
“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him. 
“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall. 
A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach. 
“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”
Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp. 
Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”
“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”
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Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.
Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena. 
“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?” 
Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”
“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad. 
Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?” 
Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy. 
“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie. 
“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek. 
The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter. 
“So,” Frankie states. 
“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free. 
“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.
“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner. 
“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself. 
“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds. 
His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans. 
She hums, nodding her head triumphantly. 
“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”
“What do you mean, papi?”
“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?” 
She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms. 
“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”
“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride. 
“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”
Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”
“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”
“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.
“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety. 
It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on. 
She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair. 
The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.
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For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous. 
You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all. 
So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous. 
This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system. 
However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.
You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could. 
It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it. 
“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed. 
“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?
“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”
And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels. 
You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling. 
The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing. 
Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face. 
“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off. 
You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”
“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink. 
You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.
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“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.
Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”
“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”
“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.” 
“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”
Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”
“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice. 
“Let me talk to Elena-”
“Fish, she’ll be fine-”
Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.” 
Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”
Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night. 
“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face. 
“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door. 
Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”
Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”
“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead. 
“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”
“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein. 
“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”
Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”
“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks. 
Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”
“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.” 
“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”
“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.
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It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.
He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart. 
He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers. 
He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again. 
“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.” 
“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering. 
“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” 
“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor. 
“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”
“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her. 
“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.” 
Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety. 
Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts. 
“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way. 
“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.” 
This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”
“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that. 
Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort. 
“I have one idea,” she offers. 
Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.
“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”
“Deal,” Frankie tells her.
“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.” 
Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face. 
“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”
“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this. 
“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”
If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”
He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.
“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.” 
He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.
What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car. 
The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.
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Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day. 
You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone. 
[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!
[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here… 
[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.
[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here. 
[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass. 
[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride? 
[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late. 
[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?
[5:57PM Leah] 👀
[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀
[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends? 
[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no. 
[5:59PM] Wow. 
[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit. 
You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no. 
You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts. 
It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive. 
When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time. 
With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride. 
The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first. 
The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.
Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar. 
“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage. 
Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away. 
It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her. 
Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that. 
You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”
“What are you getting?”
“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”
“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”
Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”
“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly. 
The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”
She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back. 
In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay. 
Two minutes, she mouths. 
You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch. 
As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise. 
A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”
“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend. 
You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to. 
“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on. 
As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too. 
“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand. 
Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you. 
“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more. 
“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink? 
He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him. 
“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you. 
“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention. 
You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything. 
The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept. 
Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice. 
As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache. 
The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.
“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours. 
Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.
“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.
You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp. 
He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now. 
Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again. 
Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.
His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses. 
Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet. 
He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink. 
You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you. 
“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip. 
“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure. 
“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action. 
Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it. 
Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him. 
“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper. 
“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity. 
“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”
You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety. 
“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy. 
“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him. 
“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break. 
Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt. 
“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine. 
Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.” 
“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.
He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations. 
He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face? 
Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again. 
Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.
“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue. 
You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you. 
“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. 
The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing. 
Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?” 
“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily. 
He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start. 
“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask. 
He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place. 
“You okay?” He checks in. 
You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam. 
You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off. 
“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself. 
“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out. 
You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?! 
You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway. 
Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced. 
“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!” 
You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool. 
“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?” 
She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease. 
When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later. 
Except, he doesn’t.
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Monday, August 19th. 
Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area. 
No luck. Of course. 
Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping. 
“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs. 
“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head. 
Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon. 
Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged. 
Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him. 
He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye: 
Ground Rules
He flips to the page. 
He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are. 
His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh. 
No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions. 
He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix. 
“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back. 
Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?” 
“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer. 
Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly. 
“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles. 
Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them. 
Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?” 
“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory. 
“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”
On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much. 
When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena. 
Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind. 
What’s wrong? He thinks. 
What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you. 
And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.
Fuck. 
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I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.
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Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 5 months
Text
Delicate
Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: "Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"
Warnings: Angst, death, major series spoilers for people who haven't finished the books
Word Count: 2.1k
Masterlist
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Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep / Are you ever dreaming of me?
Luke could admit to himself he wanted his best friend. He had for a long time. In fact everyone could see it, except for her. She seemed blissfully unaware of any feelings Luke had to the point that it made him nervous she was doing it on purpose. But if he couldn’t have her, he’d take the next best thing of being her friend. As long as she was in his life.
It was supposed to be bonfire night but Luke and Y/M had snuck off to the beach. They lay next to each other, staring up at the stars. Well, she was looking up at the stars, Luke was looking at her. They talked for hours about nothing until she finally dozed off.
Given the strict rules about curfew, Luke hardly ever got to see his best friend’s peaceful expression as she slept. Her face relaxed, unburdened by the perils of being a demigod. And as the two oldest at camp, they had a lot of perils.
Luke reached out, stroking her hair. That elicited a content sigh from her and he wondered if she was aware it was him. He wondered if she thought about or dreamed about him nearly as much as he did her. He had an ever present fantasy of absolutely sweeping her off her feet in a moment of glory. One of his favorites was after he won capture the flag, he’d march right up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and just kiss her.
But of course that would never happen so he kept it stashed in the back of his mind.
He let her sleep for a few more minutes before he finally woke her up. “Hey, you gotta get up or the harpies will get us,” he laughed softly, shaking her awake.
She groaned but opened her eyes nonetheless.
Sometimes when I look into your eyes / I pretend you're mine all the damn time
Her eyes. Luke could probably get lost in them forever. He didn’t even need to watch the stars. He’d much rather watch the reflection of them in her eyes.
Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by one of the Athena boys. “Oh, hey Luke. Um, I just came to find Y/N. Chiron said late curfew starts in five minutes.”
“Really?” she asked, sitting up. “How long was I asleep?”
Luke felt his face get hot. He actually had no idea, he had completely lost track of time while watching her. “Uh not long. I just didn’t want to wake you,” he tried to play it off smoothly.
She gave him a soft smile, her hand finding his knee. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to waste your night.”
“No, no, no,” he quickly corrected. “You’re never a waste of time.”
“So um,” the Athena boy cut in awkwardly. “You want me to walk you to your cabin, Y/N? It’s right across from mine.”
Luke felt a surge of possessiveness. This guy clearly liked her. But before she could answer, Luke did it for her. “We’ll head over in a few minutes but thanks,” he tried to dismiss him.
The boy looked discouraged but tried to play it off. “Oh- uh ok.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N offered, feeling bad for him. He immediately brightened with a smile before retreating back to his cabin.
Luke hated that she always seemed to leave the door open for other guys. They had had numerous conversations about the boys that liked her so he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose. She just felt bad outright rejecting them so her sugar coating often came across as a signal to try harder. He just wished he could make it clear to them she was taken. Of course, she wasn’t his (yet).
Once Luke was sure he was out of earshot, he brought the topic up again. “He likes you.”
“No he doesn’t,” she immediately dismissed.
“Yes he does, and you trying to make him feel better about rejecting him doesn’t make it any better.”
“I didn’t reject him, you did.”
“Because I know you don’t like him.”
“Who says I don’t like him?” she shrugged.
Luke’s heart stopped. He had been playing defense so well for so long now that it hadn’t even occurred to him that she could like someone else. “What?”
She just shrugged again. “Who’s to say I don’t like him? You chased him away before I could get a word in.”
“D-do you like him?” Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest.
“No, but I’m just saying-”
“Gods, Y/N!” Luke interrupted in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”
A satisfied look crossed over her face. “Why is that scary?”
He sent her a playful glare. “You know.”
“Tell me,” she pressed.
Is it cool that I said all that? / Is it chill that you're in my head?
Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest. She had basically already confirmed she was into him but the fear still lingered in his chest. He just had to say the words and he’d have his fantasy. She’d be his.
“I like you, Y/N. I have for a long time. I was just always scared you’d… I don’t know, reject me. Or think I was being stupid. But I like you.” Luke looked at her nervously, unsure of what she’d say. His heart was still pounding even when she leaned over and kissed him. As she tried to pull away for air, Luke’s hands found their way to her face, keeping her close. “I’m not done yet,” he mumbled against her lips, eliciting a giggle.
Long night with your hands up in my hair / Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
That night Luke really didn’t want to leave her but Y/N wasn’t willing to break the rules just yet. He had spent the entire walk back to the cabins trying to convince her to sneak into the Hermes cabin. “Please, I swear no one will snitch on you.”
She laughed, intertwining her fingers into his. “Well what about my siblings when they see I’m not in bed? What will the children think?” By now they reached Cabin 7.
“The children can think whatever they want,” Luke smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was late but several campers were still awake. Word of the couple would spread like wildfire and by the morning, even Chiron would know about the new couple.
But spending every night separately wouldn’t last for long. Y/N normally spent the evenings in the Hermes cabin where they had somehow managed to smuggle many forbidden things in. Like video games and junk food. And every night when the conch blew, signaling that curfew was soon, Luke begged her to stay. “Come on, no one will tell. Will you?” he asked his siblings.
That received a resounding “No!” swearing they’d keep our secret. She looked around the room, her resolve crumbling after weeks of this. “Fine,” she agreed. So many cheers erupted you’d think she just agreed to marry him. “But!” she waited for them to quiet down, “I’m still a counselor and I have to make sure everyone else is in bed.” Luke pouted but let her go nonetheless, promising to drag her back to Cabin 11 if she didn’t come back.
So after putting all the younger kids to bed, Y/N snuck back to Cabin 11. She found it dark but made her way to Luke’s bed. As she reached it, Luke could recognize the outline of her created by the moonlight. “Finally, I was just about to come break down your door.”
“Ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “Scoot over,” Luke obliged, sliding against the wall to create room. She slipped under the covers, settling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his face buried in her hair.
“‘M glad you’re staying,” he mumbled. “Feel like it’s easier to fall asleep when you’re with me.” He didn’t say it out loud but he liked having the assurance that she was safe in his arms as they slept.
“Me too,” she mused, her eyes already closed. “But I’ll say you kidnapped me if we get caught.”
“Okay,” Luke chucked. “You can blame me.”
My reputation's never been worse, so / You must like me for me
But those nights were gone now. Luke made his choice but so did she.
“Isn’t it messed up how the gods neglect their kids?” Luke asked as casually as possible, staring out at sea, his fingers tracing the dock.
“Yeah,” she mused. “Can you imagine being an omnipotent, immortal being but you can’t even take the time to tell your kid they belong to you? I mean, Apollo’s been pretty good about it but the others…?”
The pressure in Luke’s chest lessened as she more or less agreed with him. “Or how they treat us as disposable puppets? Like pawns?” He watched her face carefully as she considered it.
“What do you mean?”
Here we go. Luke began chipping at any remaining loyalty she had to the gods. “Well think about it. Thalia? Her godly parents could have saved her. Every demigod who died? Their parent could have saved them. My quest was a joke. All Hermes wanted me to do was repeat one of Heracles’ labors.”
She looked deep in thought. “I guess but why are you asking me about this?”
He took a deep breath before lacing his fingers in hers. “I’ve been uh… talking to someone.” She didn’t say anything but her furrowed brow urged him to continue. “I’ve been told that things don’t have to be the way they are. We don’t have to wait around until we’re killed. The Titan Lord could restore-”
“Shut up right now!” her frightened voice cut him off. She pulled her legs out of the water, shifting her sitting position to face him directly. “Luke! What- how- why are you doing this? So what if you can’t rely on the gods? You certainly can’t trust Kronos anymore.”
He gently grasped her hands. “Y/N, he promised every demigod that joins him immortality and safety. We wouldn’t have to cower in a summer camp with children who most likely won’t make it to their 18th birthdays. Please, come with me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.” That broke his heart. “Luke, I love you. I really do. But I can’t let you go down this path.”
Through his internal struggle with Kronos, Luke could see Y/N staring at him, pain in her eyes. He gripped Annabeth’s knife tightly, saying a silent goodbye to everyone he loved and a curse to Kronos. “I love you,” he tried to say to her but it came out strained. The blade sunk into his only vulnerable spot under his arm—his Achilles heel.
“No!” he heard her yell. But he was already on the ground, beginning to lose consciousness at the fatal blow. But Y/N was kneeling over him, tears leaving tracks on her dirty face. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “Why, Luke?” she practically screamed in frustration.
He reached up, wiping her tears and some dirt from her face. “Do you still love me? After everything I did?”
“Of course I love you!” she cried. “I never stopped.”
Despite the pain, he was smiling. “I love you too. I’ll see you in Elysium.”
She nodded, trying to smile too but the sobs were clawing their way of her throat. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Not too soon,” he insisted. “I love you, Y/N.”
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taylorman2274 · 1 month
Text
We Care About You (Part V)
You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...
Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers
Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;
Word Count: 1.4k
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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;
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After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?
"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."
You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.
While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."
The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."
Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...
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"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.
"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!
"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.
"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".
"Tsk. Fools."
This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.
"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."
Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.
"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.
The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."
Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."
The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.
"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.
Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].
"Hmm..."
[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.
"Ohh..."
[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.
"Ahh... Hmm..."
[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].
"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"
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...
... ...
... … …
It's cold.
You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.
Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?
Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.
"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"
Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.
"...And why does this look so familiar?"
You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.
"What the hell?!"
Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.
"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."
"My job is done. I'm leaving now."
Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.
"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.
"...Paimon?"
A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."
"...Xiao?"
You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."
Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"
You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"
Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"
Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.
"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.
However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."
The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."
They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.
"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."
Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.
"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."
Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.
"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.
Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"
"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."
"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.
The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.
Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."
However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."
You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."
"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."
You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"
They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."
Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:
"...Nothing?"
The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."
You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"
Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."
Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."
The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."
Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"
Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.
"You... you see me... as a friend?"
The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."
Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.
"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"
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Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.
Because it's never happened before, duh.
Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!
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roseglazedlens · 8 months
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⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
➠ series masterlist | 🔃girl’s route | 🔃boy’s route |
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY & CARLOS OLIVEIRA X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG & JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER chapter synopsis: You are amongst the top five selected for this infiltration to take down Glenn Arias. An argument unfolds between the agents and you are forced to pick a side. chapter content: smut in next chapter, resident evil: vendetta spoilers, zombies, haunted mansion, explicit themes throughout this series. a/n: welcome to my second series!! (need to finish my first one oops) on a thursday one month ago, i thought to myself 'zombie threesome hehehe', then i took the idea and sprinted with it and this series is born. so, uh... zombiefuckers rise up?? « 3.3 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »
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Millions are dying—Mass infections are happening across the globe swamping the streets with an unbeknownst fear. The symptoms of this virus are faint, indecipherable next to an x-ray of a man who is perfectly healthy. Not even the carrier themselves are aware of how the virus lies underneath their veins, dormant, until a click of button is pressed from a commander far away, then their symptoms worsen: a headache, a cold, veins turning purple as the poison hatches in them, spreading, until the only thing that can manoeuvre their limbs is the word: KILL.
That’s the greatest strength of this virus. Anyone can be infected, and maybe, you already are.
This product first reached the underground market three months ago. Called the A-Virus; a bioweapon succeeded in the market for its ability to infect targeted communities remotely and leaving no evidence on the perpetrator, which no other distributors had successfully produced before.
Engineered by Glenn Arias, the researcher sold over thousands of this bioweapon, becoming a billionaire overnight at the cost of lives lost from the whims of the rich. He supplied the wealthy and corrupted, like insatiable brats, with new remote-controlled monster trucks, who only aims to tear down families and have their victims beg mercy to a monster that will not speak reason.
Hence, this problem brought attention to a global scale, having the DSO come in alliance with the BSAA and other independent mercenaries to hunt down the vaccine and put a stop to Arias’ grand schemes. Handpicking five agents who are equipped with both experience and skill to combat a zombie attack on this scale of doom and urgency.
Those five agents are Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, Leon S. Kennedy, Ada Wong, and you.
A plan is already in place. A distraction concocted with your intel and the help of a senior researcher of all things bioweapons, Rebecca Chambers. While Arias is busy attending fake business meetings on the other side of the world, the five of you will infiltrate his private mansion to retrieve a concentrated sample of the A-Virus. Rebecca can use the sample to reverse engineer it into a cure and send her findings to facilities across the world.
The plan sounds brilliant in writing, but when you arrived his private mansion in Queretaro region, Mexico, something is off about this place.
Arias is a mastermind, you had been warned many times, in which you appropriately prepared all your best gear for this mission to treat it with utmost gravity. You’re thinking armed guards, well-equipped security, BOWs. But when the five of you pushed open the front doors of his mansion, it was quiet.
Empty. Not a single soul. Just five of you greeted by the whisk of wind through weakly hinged windows that somehow makes the humid air stick to your skin further. Did Rebecca get the wrong info? No one lived there. From what you heard when you were in town, not even the locals dare to venture anywhere near the odd gothic mansion on the top of the hill. They said it’s abandoned, cursed, rumoured to whisk away young children if they ever step foot inside.
It’s a story they say to stop the naughty kids, you remind yourself. It’s not haunted. And you’re not a kid anymore.
The inside is abandoned. Cobwebs lay thick between cornices and carved columns, the floors laced with a film of dust on the luxurious dark wood flooring, creaking with worn age as you take each step. Besides the chandelier, every single piece of furniture is either the same colour of black or red, or nothing else. The soft red velvet upholstery and the rug are made with the same fabric. And you can find the same dark wood in every corner of this house. It’s in the tables, the shelves, the chaise, the painting frames, and stone-like head sculpture whittled with the same exact dark wood, ridged the exact uniform way.
Then, you look at the wall. Black patches of mould smearing across the burgundy wallpaper like a crime scene.
Something creaks behind you. The hair on your arms stands up as you shiver, immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. Despite the number of times you had taken down hordes of incoming zombies like they’re cardboard targets, why is a bit of wind freaking you out? It’s not a ghost, just old foundations, maybe mice, or wind kicking something off a table, like how every old house sounds like. You look around to see if anyone else catches you jumping at nothing, before Jill says, thankfully unaware of your worry:
“God, the smell. What have they done to this place?” Her hand flies over her nose as if that will help to shield any smell whatsoever. Unfortunately, the building is moulded far beyond salvageable that the stench lingers in every part of the mansion.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad. We get weeks-old corpses in body bags every day. It’s absolutely retching.” Jill’s earpiece fizzes into life, and she recognises the familiar playful lilt of Rebecca’s voice on the other side of the line.
“At least that’s refrigerated and contained, Rebecca. This fucking stinks.” Jill scrunches her face like she just ate something unpleasant.
“I’m sending my sympathies from my well-conditioned lab right now.”
Carlos appears from Jill’s behind, placing a firm, teasing hand on top of Jill’s shoulder. His wavy curls catch in the wind and his teeth glistens sparkly white. “Yeah Jill, got a problem with my natural musk?”
Jill shrugs his hand off, grimacing at his attempts at flirtation. “Take a shower first, then we’ll talk.”
In which Carlos laughs, holds his hand out at his heart as if it was just torn into shreds. “That hurts my feelings, Jill. Why aren’t you ever saying things like that to pretty boy over there?”
“I have a name, Oliveira.” The blond man turns around at the call of his nickname, familiar with the nickname, but it's not pleasantly received by him.
“I think pretty boy suits you more, Kennedy.” Carlos replies, a glint in his voice that hints something a bit less than friendliness between them.
“Ah, so you do know my name.” Leon quips back while staring directly into Carlos’ eyes, before getting cut off by Jill.
“I would, Carlos, but if I have to hear one more corny ass comeback from Leon’s mouth, I’ll throw myself out the window right now.”
“Takes a genius to get my humour.” Leon smirks.
Your eyebrows raise almost immediately to chime in. “Erm… I think we have different meanings for the word ‘genius’.”
Quiet chuckles ripple through the room. It helps that you have worked with these guys throughout the years and had come to know and get close to them—some a bit closer than just friends—but none of them are strangers by far. Usually, you would be working with only one or two of these guys, never in a big group like this, but it seems that everyone is already well-acquainted with each other.
You toss a glance at Carlos and catch him staring at you, smiling. Ah, you see now. Carlos must have been trying to lighten the mood because you had been jumpy ever since you had arrived. You nod at him, a silent thank you before the five of you venture deeper into the eerie atmosphere.
The goal is to arrive at Glenn Aria’s office. According to Rebecca’s intel, Arias hid a concentrated sample in a safe last time he was here. You will need Ada to crack the safe to retrieve the sample and deliver it to Rebecca. As you traverse the corridors, it twists and turns in different directions—whoever engineered this did not enjoy unexpected guests at all. But under Rebecca’s guidance, she walks you and your team through the labyrinth with ease and precision.
But unfortunately, not ease and precision on your part. You trip over your own leg and almost fall to the floor as you round a harsh turn according to Rebecca’s instructions, and Jill catches you right on the arm before you fall.
“Easy there.” Jill pulls you up the ground, and you regain some balance. “You good? Mind your step.”
“Why did I agree to babysit?” Ada speaks, finally, for the first time in this mission. Despite how quietly she spoke under her breath, her words abruptly cut through the air, and all attention is on her and the red sweater dress that curves into her frame perfectly now.
“Oh, I bet once you get your paycheck it will be worth it. Or will you be betraying us, huh, Ada?”
Leon smirks loudly. Ada’s face goes from tired to exhausted in one second. “You just can’t let bygones be bygones, can you?”
“That’s rich coming from someone who used to work for Wesker.” Ada’s heels come to a stop, and with a slow turn, she stares deeply into Leon’s eyes that speak a million threats without needing to be utter a word. Oh, and believe me, you do not want to be messing with Ada. You learnt that the hard way.
“Woah, guys. Let’s keep this civil. No need to get heated.” Carlos rushes to stand right between them as the duo glares at each other with passionate fury and resentment.
You nod, joining Carlos’ side to stand by him. “Carlos’s right. This is not the time to pick a fight.” But it falls on the deaf ears of Leon and Ada.
“Thousands were killed. I want what’s good for the people, and I’m not sure Ada here is on the same page.” Leon continues, adding fuel to the fire.
Ada lets out a disbelieved gasp in response, before recollecting herself and replying in her usual tone of calmness: “Someone has to pay the price. I’m just the executor.”
“Regardless of our motivations, we all are on the same side here.” Carlos attempts at resolution again, putting his hands up in between them, and fails embarrassingly once more.
The air is heated with hostility; Leon and Ada’s eyes are locked in a trance, a hazy spite that reigns their composure, that looking away from each other means forfeiting. You don’t see either of them walking away first, they are both prideful people after all.
“Uh… Jill? Some help?” Carlos looks around to find Jill, who is leaning against a wall, her arms relaxing by her sides, unphased by the fire stirring right in front of the crowd.
“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” Jill is merely waiting for either one of the parties roll over.
You feel speckles of flame through the two of them, as if steam is retreating over the top of their heads, burning not just them, but also everyone else in the room. Until the boiling point hits, and it erupts all in one second. The duo walks away, off to different directions in bitter adrenaline, until you and Carlos are just looking at each other.
“I guess we’ll take five. There’s a safe room up ahead.” Carlos is speaking, but you’re the one listening.
The five of you enters the safe room in silence. It is a storage room—despite its name, it’s quite large for a normal storage room—with boxes stacked on all ends that made the room seem smaller in comparison. A ceiling light illuminates the room dimly, but it isn’t enough to shade away years of old animosity from their past.
The lively conversations you had mere minutes ago is gone now. Just silence and awkward rustling as each of you sits in your own designated corner. Carlos and Jill find themselves a seat on top of a firm box. Leon and Ada giving each other the silent treatment, standing on farthest end of the room to each other. You are simply minding your own business, gathering materials to craft a flashbang to pass the time. Doesn’t hurt to have more supplies anyway.
There is a notable division on each side, an imaginary alliance that you choose to be on neither side. Until Leon crosses the boundary line, somehow making his way to you. He picks up an empty grenade case next to you, assembling the pieces together for your project.
“Sorry you had to see that.” A little guilt tugs at Leon’s voice.
“Not at all. I get why you felt that way.” Leon nods, a look of gratitude hanging softly through a smile. His other finger seals the flashbang cap and hands it back to you. “But you need to learn to control your temper. Especially when it comes to Ada.”
Speaking of Ada, a shiver runs down your spine suddenly. The feeling of someone sending laser signs and telepathic warnings towards you. You turn around towards the direction of the aura to find Ada, her back leaning against the wall, arms crossed without engaging or acknowledging anyone in the room. She stands by herself alone, and that’s how you had always known Ada—distant and in her own mysterious world. Not really a chatter, despite the number of times she had saved you in the past.
Ada does not look at you, but you can feel her glaring down—either you or Leon—with her entire body.
“Good to see the two of you getting along at least.” Carlos holds out two plastic water bottles to you two from a supply crate he found in the room, which Jill has finished downing two of them already.
You two gesture ‘no thanks.’ Ada does not spare Carlos a glance at his direction when he offers.
“You’re welcome, I guess.” Carlos says sarcastically, before taking in a generous sip from his drink.
There’s a moment of silence. Then, a moment of dry coughs; a squeak of footsteps, a joint click from a stretching neck. Then silence once more.
“I’ve had enough.” Jill slaps her hands on her thigh before pushing herself up from her seat. “You guys gonna keep acting like kids? Grow up, this isn’t high school anymore. Take your drama outside. If we’re gonna take down Arias, we have to get along. And yes, that means moving on from shit that happened… five years ago? Five years ago and you two are still hung up? Unlike you all, I’m actually looking forward to go home and get a decent shower, hopefully soon.”
You nod in approval as Jill speaks her mind, and you are glad at least the few of you have their priorities in order. Ada flicks her head away from Jill, but her silence is telling of how much she is thinking over Jill’s words.
“Leon, can you accept this?” Jill asks.
There’s a bit of reluctance in his voice, but he agrees anyway. “Fine.”
“Ada?”
Before Ada can respond, smoke is creeping into your vision, coming in quick. It merges into your view, obscuring it, and you whiff something artificial, some kind of chemicals that is piercing to your nose and eyes. You can’t help but wince, hands groping the air in attempts to find comfort in the person closest to you—anyone for that matter—to indicate you’re safe and is indeed not under attack. Your fingers find themselves in a fistful of someone’s shirt, muscles tensing tightly underneath the fabric on their shoulder cap.
“Leon. Is that you?” You cry out.
“It’s me. Stay close and don’t let go. It’s an ambush.” Leon pulls your arm towards him, securing your safety with his hand in yours.
There is some coughing through the air, faint panic in voices underneath the hissing of gas that seems to be coming from above. You hold onto Leon a bit tighter.
Carlos calls out desperately “Where are you guys? Is everyone okay?” as he flaps his hand around the smoke to stir it away. He finds you and Leon almost immediately, and looks down to your hands, finding them clasped tight against each other. Your hand lets go of Leon flying behind your back, but Carlos already saw it.
Jill is coughing deep from the smoke. “I-I’m here!”
“It seems like we’re all here.” Ada says, composed as ever despite the circumstances.
The smoke dissipates—until most of the fog fades away, escaping through the cracks underneath the door to the other side. Leaving the five of you standing in the same storage room darting eyes around, seemingly unharmed, and even more confused.
After what feels like a while later, Jill finally breaks the silence: “Huh. What was that?”
“No enemies.” Ada unholsters the pistol from her belt, inspecting the room and the door behind the room. “Clear on this side too.”
It’s strange. If this is an ambush, why isn’t there an attack?
Leon places a finger on his earpiece to activate his microphone. “Rebecca, come in. We’ve just been ambushed by some kind of smoke, but nobody’s hurt. Happen to know what’s going on?”
His earpiece buzzes into life. “Hmm, let’s see. From the architecture plans, I see the vents are connected to a lab below. It seems abandoned, there are no signs of anyone triggering an attack on my end.”
“Whatever it is, we need to investigate.” Leon’s voice is firm and serious. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
You swallow deeply, fear settling back inside you. “You think it’s a trap?”
“I think…” Leon pinches his chin. “…Arias knows that we’re here.”
Your heart drops—Bundle of fear, anxiety and stress springing back into your nerves as you probe at the possibility of Glen Arias knowing where you are. What you’re trying to do. Making sure you will never reach that sample despite your hardest wills.
“He shouldn’t. Rebecca, didn’t Arias get on the jet?” Carlos is also thinking too.
“Affirmative. Security footage showed Arias walking into his private jet, and it took off four hours ago. He should still be in the air. No signal of them making a pitstop anywhere.”
You hear black pumps clacking against the hardwood floor. “I’m getting the sample.” Says Ada, her foot is already halfway out of the door. “Follow me or not, I don’t care. I’m here for the objective, and only that.”
“And what if something happens to you?” Carlos asks, genuinely concerned.
“I’ll deal with it if it happens.” Ada waves dismissively.
“Ada’s right, we could be set on a wild goose chase.” Jill chimes in. “Millions of lives are dying. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I guess it’s just you and me then, pretty boy.” Carlos rounds his arm around Leon’s neck, bringing him closer in an almost choking grip, a little too close and tight to his liking. And with Leon’s history with Carlos, Leon refuses to believe this is just a friendly gesture.
Leon grimaces, removing Carlos’ hand over him. “So that’s it? We’re splitting up?” The answer is unanimous. “Fine. I guess we’ll cover more ground if we split up.”
Rebecca, through the other side of your earpiece, speaks: “Be careful everyone. You don’t know what kind of schemes Glenn Arias had set up. Please stay safe.”
“We’ll be fine, as long as we don't have any traitors in our team.” Leon says the word ‘traitor’ while maintaining eye contact with Ada. She ignores him, simply deadpans.
“Well, what about you?” Leon nudges at your arm.
You are faced with two options. Indulge in your curiosity and find the source of the gas, or stick to mission as planned? Both options will be dangerous. So who will you trust with your life?
[OPTION A] “I’ll follow the girls.”
[OPTION B] “I’ll follow the boys.”
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 thanks for reading! come check out my other works! —yours truly, rose. i love my beta reader @scar-crossedlvrs! series taglist: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.
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kotohq · 2 months
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##. BABY, THINGS I WANNA SAY TO YOU
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♡ How you (accidentally) came to know his feelings for you
♡ Contents & warnings: secondhand embarrassment (major on hiiragi and umemiya's part), unestablished relationships but implied mutual feelings, humor (this was not written seriously), manga character spoilers, not proofread, reader is addressed as pretty (umemiya) 
♡ Characters: sakura haruka, kaji ren, hiiragi touma, suou hayato, umemiya hajime (xgn! reader)
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To be honest, Sakura Haruka is truly the king of not being subtle about his feelings. This boy will literally stare (he thinks it’s a stare, but he doesn’t know he’s furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes like he’s glaring at you) at you at every wake moment that you two are in each other’s presence but when you turn your head to acknowledge his presence, he flushes a deep shade of red and comically turns his head away to avert his gaze from yours. 
And, of course, having someone bore holes into the side of your head isn’t a particularly nice feeling so one day you jokingly confront him by saying: “hey, Sakura-kun, why are you always staring at me? Are you in love with me or something?” and you swear you meant it as a joke, and you fully expected him to call you stupid and tell you to stop joking around. But!! When the only reaction you pulled out of him were flustered stammers and reddened ears, you knew you accidentally threw the dart right on the bullseye. 
As if things weren’t awkward enough, he had to poorly defend himself (and confirm his infatuation further) by saying “and what of it?! What if it’s true that I like you, huh?!” congratulations on the first “oh.” moment of your life, you’ll have to pay for it by communicating with this boy. Good luck and don’t tease him too much because he might explode.   
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Ah, yes. Kaji Ren. The king of not confessing. He’s not someone who falls in love or falls out of love easily so he’s probably been pining over you since middle school, and everyone who went to the same middle school with him probably knows how dumb in love he is with you. 
And that is why Ren’s good friend since middle school, Sako, broke into a sweat when he accidentally came across Ren, after accidentally meeting you. The thing is, Sako also considers you a good friend from middle school, so when he met you by accident while walking around to find the new trendy dessert, he didn’t deny your invitation to hang out. And that is because he didn’t take into account that this will happen, that his good friend would see him walking around with said good friend’s crush. It’s only when he meets eyes with Ren that he realizes how bad everything looks. You and Sako, hanging out. Just the two of you. 
At the sight of Ren’s shock-widened eyes, Sako, feels his panic meter rising to 100 real quick. He’s not about to be dubbed as someone who steals his friends’ crush, not today.
“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I met them by accident while walking aroundー” he blurts out in a haze of alarm, briefly turning his head to you for confirmation. You give a nod, and he continues his panicked rambling, which is probably the worst single decision he’s ever going to make in his entire 15 years of living.
“ーand there’s no way I’ll go on a date with someone that you’ve liked for 3 years!”
Immediately after hearing Sako’s explanation, you and Ren chime a “what?” simultaneously. you in confusion, and Ren in disbelief because no way those years he spent pining over you was just outed like that. And then Sako makes some half baked excuse to leave you two alone to talk as if he wasn't the one who made this mess in the first place, like wtf bro clean it up. Good luck communicating with this one too, assuming he hasn’t run off in embarrassment, that is. 
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Hiiragi Touma the chad!! He actually has the balls to confess, I love this man. He planned it meticulously too, like what he’s gonna say, at what place, what his reply is gonna be depending on your answer, yada yada, you name it, he’s got it all prepared. And right now the timing is right, he’s got you in a secluded place so he can save both of you the embarrassment of having anyone hear an intimate moment, he’s even got his hand latched onto your wrist too. He gulps a bile in his throat so he doesn’t stutter when he tells you exactly what he’s been dying to tell you. 
“Listen, I have something to tell you,” he sucks in a heavy breath, he feels like his lung is gonna run out of air soon from the nervousness. He’s prepared, he just needs to say it. say the three words.
“I like—” “oh, Hiiragi! You already confessed to them? Good for you.” 
Hiiragi doesn’t think he’s ever felt his nervousness disappear so fast before, immediately being replaced by anger and pure exasperation. His brain stopped thinking about how your wrist fits nicely in his hand and has instead started repeating the phrase “fuck you, umemiya hajime”. 
The glare he gives the Boufuurin leader is harder than any punch he’s thrown in his life and it effectively makes Umemiya disappear behind whatever wall he came from. Feeling awkward and bad for him, you initiate a conversation. 
“Hiiragi-” “sorry,” he cuts you off, sinking down to the floor in a squat as absolute exhaustion takes over him, his free hand going up to cover his face. “Sorry. Just… give me a minute and I'll confess to you properly.” 
Hiiragi is relieved though when he feels your wrist sliding up from his hand, moving to intertwine your fingers with his. Maybe everything will be okay, after all. Still, fuck umemiya hajime indeed. read the room, man.
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Suou Hayato is the king of confessing. Or, he would be, if he didn’t treat it as a joke and asked you to date him everyday jokingly. Now he finds himself stuck in a complicated situation where you don’t ever take his confession(s) seriously and he’s quite in a pinch because he really likes you and wants to seriously date you. He can’t blame anyone but himself, though, because who the hell says “just kidding” after literally confessing that he likes you. Not only that, but he’s setting himself up by saying “let’s date” everyday in such a carefree way that you can’t take it seriously. 
Truth to be told, Hayato keeps asking you out because he's still holding on to the hope that something miraculous might happen and you’ll take him seriously. So far, though, it isn’t looking any good. Woe is he. Sorry man, you set yourself up for this yearning. 
His yearning gets so bad that one day when he finds you asleep on your desk after school with your head nestled between your arms on top of your desk, he sits on the chair in front of your desk. His hands found themselves mindlessly wandering to your hair, twirling a strand between his fingers and watching the sunset illuminating your hair. He observes your sleeping face for a while, before his hands reach out to give your cheek a gentle poke. He chuckles when you make a funny face and turn your sleeping face away from him. He doesn’t even know why he does what he does next, but he gets close to your head, stopping just beside whatever part of your ear is exposed. Then, he whispers, voice lacking the teasing lilt that it’s usually bathed in. 
“You don’t know how much I actually want to date you.” 
“Do you really mean that?” he realizes he kinda fucked up but it’s okay because at least you’re aware of his feelings now.
And then Hayato realizes how silly he’s acting so he grabs your shoulder to shake you awake. He gets surprised, though, when your hand suddenly grasps his, holding him in place before he could pull back (let's be real he doesn’t want to, though.). 
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Umemiya Hajime does have the courage to confess, though. But he’s also kind of afraid that you might not see him in the same way and it’s gonna change his friendship with you so he’d rather wait until he’s certain his feelings aren’t one sided. 
But all that logical reasoning gets thrown out of the window when he catches sight of you playing with the orphanage kids. He’s a family man through and through so of course that kinda stops the gears in his head from turning. In any case, though, he’s happy to see you getting along with his younger siblings, though, ecstatic even. Like, it’s to the point that he doesn’t realize he’s staring at you with such a lovesick smile that he might as well make the “hearts in eyes” phrase a real phenomenon. 
“I can’t wait to confess to you.” the words trickle from his mouth without consent from his, y’know, logical reasoning. Panic takes over momentarily before he realizes you didn’t hear what he just said because your ears are probably full of the children’s laughter. 
You didn't hear. But some of his younger siblings did. 
“Onii-chan, is that person the one you like?” as if it wasn’t bad enough that you heard the question, the little girl had to also point straight into your direction. Well, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did or not anyway because the only two teenagers in the room are you and hajime. 
“Oh so they’re the one you talk about with heart eyes!” One pipes up. “right! The person whose eyes would sparkle when the sun hits them.” Another one follows. “and the person whose hair looks especially beautiful when it’s illuminated by the setting sun!” You get the gist.
Hajime would think about how cute his younger siblings look with their eyes sparkling with excitement if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t think of anything else because his mind is filled with the sound of his racing heart.
The fact that he talks about you to his younger siblings is exposed in bright daylight, and you’re looking at him with a surprised expression etched on your pretty face.
The discovery his younger siblings made did nothing but successfully make them gush over you even more. Well, who could blame them, their older brother’s crush is right in front of them. Deepest condolences, though, because children are always unnecessarily nosy and stubborn so they’re gonna end up matchmaking you and Hajime. You bet they’re not gonna let you go until you both confess to one another, right in front of them. What a nightmare. 
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kayjayjwrites · 2 months
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Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One
Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.
Chapter Word Count: 6,350
Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie
Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!
Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~
It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.
Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.
They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.
It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.
Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle. It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.
Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.
Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.
You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.
The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.
It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.
You would take the job.
Not to be a spy for Kier.
Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.
It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.
But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.
However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.
It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.
That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.
You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.
It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a couple years into your career.
The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.
Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.
Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.
When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.
And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.
Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.
When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.
Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.
And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.
Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”
Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”
“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”
The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”
“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”
Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”
You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”
You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”
He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”
You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.
“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.
If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.
“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.
Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.
XxXx
Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.
Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.
“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.
The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.
“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.
But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”
“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.
“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”
You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.
“You forgot your bag.” He observed.
Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”
“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.
“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”
If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.
You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.
“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”
He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”
His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.
Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?
Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.
He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?
“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.
Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.
A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”
“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.
Subtle.
Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.
What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.
And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.
So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.
Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.
Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.
Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over two years of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.
So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over him.
You know, simple.
The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.
Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.
Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.
He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?
Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.
"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.
You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.
Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.
It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.
Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.
"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.
It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.
You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.
He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.
Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.
Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.
Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.
Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.
He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.
Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.
Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.
Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remains.
Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”
Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!
He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"
Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.
You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.
Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.
"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.
"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.
"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.
He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."
You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.
Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.
He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”
You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.
"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.
You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.
The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.
You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.
"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"
"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.
You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."
Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.
Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.
And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.
And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.
XxXx
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Text
Jealousy, jealousy
Word Count: 5.5k
Themes: fluff, pining, Sebastian is a bit of an ass. I left Y/N’s house as ambiguous as I could so you can use whichever one you like :)
Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL
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“You’re staring,” Ominis murmured before letting out a quiet sigh. “Again.”
“She’s talking to Weasley,” Sebastian muttered back, his arms folded across his chest.
“Which one?” he asked, a wry smile slipping into his face. Ominis didn’t need to be able to see to know Sebastian was glaring at him. 
“Garreth, you prat.” A brief silence fell over the pair as Sebastian continued to watch the interaction between Y/N and Garreth Weasley. Y/N threw her head back and laughed at something Garreth said, and Sebastian felt something in his chest tighten as the sun caught on the natural highlights hidden in her hair. “He can’t be that funny.” Garreth muttered something to Y/N and she turned in his direction to catch his eye. He felt every nerve in his body as she smiled sweetly at him and waved her fingers to say hello before looking back at the wizard in front of her. “He’s just using her.”
“How can you be so sure?” Ominis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise as he turned his head to look at Sebastian (he hoped he was, at least).
“Isn’t everyone?” Sebastian asked. Ominis had been there with him that fateful day in the bathrooms. They had both heard what had been said, had both heard the chorus of laughter and agreement that followed.
“Everyone but you, you mean.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ominis,” he looked away from Y/N to narrow his eyes at his friend beside him. “You’re not using her either.”
“Aren’t I?” Ominis asked. There was a beat of silence between them before he laughed loudly at the lack of response from the brunet, and he could almost picture the incredulous look being shot his way.
Sebastian would blame the sun, he decided, if anyone asked why he was frowning in your direction. It had come out today, and the trio had taken advantage of the warmth it provided to sit in the gardens by the north entrance for the castle. It seemed they hadn’t been the only ones to have the idea and it wasn’t long before Y/N had leapt from her position in the grass next to him to greet Natsai Onai and the red-clad gaggle that seemed to follow. Sebastian couldn’t help but begrudge Natty (who was a wonderful witch despite being in Gryffindor) from stealing you away from him. He had been content with your arm pressed against his, your legs touching as you stretched out beside him, head almost resting on his shoulder as you watched the clouds drift by. 
Ominis twirled his wand idly in his hands, the sensor pulsing every-so-often to let him know Sebastian was still brooding beside him. Although he didn’t need it to, because if he listened carefully he could hear Sebastian mutter to himself occasionally as he more than likely watched Y/N from across the gardens. It wasn’t loud enough for Ominis to hear everything he was saying, but he did manage to catch phrases such as stupid Gryffindors and was just going to hold her hand. The latter made Ominis snort in amusement. Sebastian had been working up the courage to admit his feelings for the third member of their little group since the beginning of their sixth year, and now here they were nearing the end of their seventh and final year.
He had tried to tell Sebastian - time and time again - that there was nothing to fear and that he strongly suspected you returned his feelings, but he refused to listen. Ominis wouldn’t outright betray your trust and inform Sebastian of the late night conversations they shared where you voiced your concerns for the brunet, voice tinged with more than just friendly admiration. Instead, he subtly tried to push the pair together with flimsy excuses to explain his perpetual absence. Not that it did any good when either of you refused to acknowledge the Erumpent in the room. 
It could be worse, he mused, I could actually have to witness the pining between them, instead of just hearing about it.
“Get up,” Sebastian nudged Ominis gently and stood up. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to save Y/N,” Sebastian replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Y/N doesn’t need saving,” Ominis rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless, brushing grass from his robes. “In fact, I need to remind you that she has saved us. Several times.”
“Well, call this us returning the favour,” he tugged Ominis in the right direction softly before letting go of his robes and stalking over to where Y/N and Garreth were sat talking, set a little apart from the rest of the Gryffindors. “Y/N…Weasley.” He nodded once at the wizard and came to a stop right next to Y/N. Ominis, wand held aloft, offered the ground an awkward smile. “I can’t believe you left us for a bunch of Gryffindors,” he looked down at her, forcing a chuckle so he didn’t start an inter-house fight. “Are we not enough for you?”
“Don’t start,” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Garreth was just telling me about his newest potion idea.”
“Planning on getting her into more trouble by making her sneak into Sharp’s office for supplies again?” The comment earned Sebastian a nudge in the ribs from Y/N, but Garreth chuckled and shook his head.
“Actually, I was hoping Y/N would accompany me to the Forbidden Forest soon to gather some ingredients.”
“Not man enough to go it alone?” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. The tips of Garreth’s ears were tinged pink as he looked between the three of them, before an easygoing smile fell across his features. 
“Is that why you keep asking her to join you on trips to spider caves?” Ominis let a laugh slip out at Garreth’s words, and Sebastian shot him a glare for it. Y/N shuffled nervously on her feet between them all, sensing some tension simmering under the surface. She wasn’t sure why they were both standing there, chests puffed out, and had a feeling she didn’t want to know. The only one who didn’t seem to be stancing was Ominis, who looked just as out of place as she felt. 
“I don’t mind going into the forest,” Y/N supplied quietly. Two pairs of eyes shot her way, and Ominis looked a little to her left. “I mean, I need to go anyway. Ms Bugbrooke asked me to go and check in on a unicorn she named Hazel and find a way to keep her safe.”
“I thought we were going to go do that this weekend?” Sebastian asked.
“You could all go,” Ominis supplied. He could feel Y/N relax from beside him, her hand reaching between their robes to squeeze his arm in gratitude. “Saves for multiple trips to the forest.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” Sebastian frowned, crossing his arms. Garreth gave them all a half-hearted smile and shrugged.
“You let me know, Y/N. I’ve got to get to Charms, I can’t be late again or Ronen will tell my aunt,” he shuddered at the thought and waved goodbye to the three of them before turning to walk away. Y/N offered Garreth a forced smile as he left and waited until he was well out of earshot before whirling around to face Sebastian and hit him with her glove.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb, Sebastian. It doesn’t become you.”
“Sweetheart, everything becomes me,” he sent her a cocky grin, his body language loosening now that Garreth was gone. “Do you want me to walk you - both of you - to class?” He bent down to pick up her discarded bag and slung it over his shoulder. 
“Don’t change the subject,” she sighed in annoyance, her eyes narrowing. “You always seem to do this whenever I’m speaking to someone.”
“I don’t do it to Poppy, Natty, Imelda, or Ominis.”
“Please, leave me out of this,” Ominis muttered, looking away from them as they began to walk to the castle for class. Even though he knew he couldn’t see it, Sebastian still shot his friend a look as if to say way to back me up, help me out here and hoped he would get the message. The trio walked in silence until they passed the History of Magic classroom.
“Why don’t you let me talk to any of our classmates?”
“You’re talking to me, aren’t you? And you speak to Ominis all the time,” Sebastian gestured at his friend, who cringed internally at being brought back into this. He hoped if he kept silent that they would forget he was there, and perhaps he could sneak off and make it to class on his own. Not that it would do much good - he shared his next class with Y/N, and Sebastian was sure to follow. They had overheard a conversation between her, Imelda, Poppy and Natty about the chivalrous actions some of the wizards at the school took to get the attention of the witches and which ones in particular seemed to charm the girls the most. Ever since then Sebastian had held her school bag and walked her to every class. 
“Stop trying to be charming, Sebastian. I’m annoyed at you.”
“You think I’m charming?” Sebastian grinned down at her, earning a quiet whack as she hit him with her glove again. “Why are you so violent today?”
“Why are you so bothersome today?” she shot back. Ominis smiled to himself and walked a little faster. As much as he enjoyed hearing Y/N rip into Sebastian, he did not want to get caught in the middle. 
Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight the chill that lingered in the stone walls after the warmth they had felt outside. Sebastian had been acting differently lately. Some days he was attentive, almost sweet; others like today, he was a nuisance, plain and simple. She never knew who she was going to get - the man who greeted her with coffee and a smile in the mornings, his hand lingering on hers after he handed her the mug, or the sulking mass walking by her. Her eyes fell on his back, watching as his muscles rippled through the white shirt, at her bag hanging on his shoulder.
He never aimed that gruffness in her direction, she realised. Even now, he was holding her bag for her and looked over his shoulder to see if she was still with them, a breathtaking smile falling on his face when he caught her eye. It was only ever when one of their male classmates spoke to her, standing a little too close that he began to act out, and despite his protests that she spoke to Ominis, she had seen him do it with him too. It was to a lesser scale, but even this morning he had placed himself between the pair as they all sat in the sun, his shoulder pressed against hers.
“Why won’t you let me speak to any men?” the words slipped out of her mouth before she could process them. Sebastian came to a stop and looked at her in confusion. She was vaguely aware of Ominis slowing as well from in front of them, a low groan escaping from him. 
“What?”
“That conversation you were having with Garreth wasn’t exactly pleasant, and it’s not the first time this has happened.” Sebastian watched as she twisted her fingers together nervously and longed to take her hand in his. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“You think Weasley is going to make you happy?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“I-I don’t know! But how am I meant to find out when you keep…”
“When I keep…?” His casual tone infuriated Y/N, and judging by the amusement in his eye and the twitch in the corner of his mouth, he knew it.
“When you keep acting so possessive!”
“Maybe I’m just a good judge of character and know none of those simpering idiots who keep coming over are enough for you.”
“Enough for me - ” Ire flared at his words and she gave him a withering look. “You have some nerve, Sebastian Sallow. And you,” she glared at Ominis, who had the decency to look a little frazzled at her anger. “I expected better from you, you’re always by his side whenever this happens. Care to explain yourself?” Ominis shook his head slowly and backed away a few steps as Sebatian came forward.
“Don’t take it out on him, he had no part in this.”
“Good to know the stupidity started and ended with you, then,” Y/N snapped. She turned her back on him and walked a few steps away to calm down. “Why do you always do this to me, Sebastian? Give me one good reason why you keep acting out like this.”
“I’m only looking out for your best interests. You need someone who will challenge you,” Sebastian stood taller, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Not a lapdog who will roll over every time you call their name. You need an equal.” Ominis grimaced at his best friend's words and slowly began to back away. He didn’t make it too far before someone bumped into him, pausing to listen to the argument occurring in the hallway.
“Who are you to presume anything about my happiness?” Y/N stalked forward to poke Sebastian in the chest roughly. “Who would even fit within your insane standards for me? Who would challenge me, make me happy, treat me as their equal?” she asked, all but spitting the words at him. “You?”
“Maybe.” Sebastian shrugged, not quite meeting her eye as he shuffled between his feet nervously.
“You…” Y/N let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re something else, Sallow.” In all the times Y/N had imagined Sebastian admitting he may return his feelings for her it never went like this, in a corridor attracting the attention of their classmates with their fight. “I have done nothing but wait for you to notice me for two years, Sebastian. And when I finally realise you’ll never see me the way I want and decide to move on, that’s when you’re determined to want me?”
“I don’t just want you,” his voice was hoarse with her declaration. Two years? How could she not see that I’ve noticed her, that I've only ever noticed her? How could this have gone wrong so fast. 
“You’re nothing but a jealous coward.” With one final poke to the chest, Y/N took her bag and started to walk away from him and the little crowd that had gathered.
“You think I don’t know how selfish I’m being?” Sebastian called out, suddenly finding his voice. He followed her path, near enough pushing anyone aside who stood in his way. “I would give anything - anything - to go back to that day we first met. Back when all you were was Atë personified, before I realised how absolutely breathtaking every inch of your soul is. You’ve ruined me, Y/N!”
“And that’s my fault?”
“I’m not saying that!” Sebastian groaned and reached for the sleeve of her robe to pull her to a stop. He quickly rescinded his hand when she shot him a menacing glare as if to say I dare you.
“Then what are you saying?” she asked. Doubt clutched him, stopping the words from leaving his mouth. He must have waited a beat too long to respond because Y/N sighed, and the disappointment on her face was enough to bring him to his knees as she continued to walk away from him, the students they had attracted parting to let her through. She had made it halfway down the corridor when sharp panic squeezed his chest tightly.
“I’m in love with you!” he shouted after her. His face flamed at the confession, at the sudden whispers of those around him as his words echoed down the stone corridor. Y/N stopped, and for a second Sebastian felt hope that she would turn around and say she loved him too. That it was him she wanted, who she always wanted.
“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.” He watched in despair as she walked away from him, slipping through the doors that would take her into another hall. There was a dull roaring in his ears, drowning out the sudden whispers that had started around him. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he looked over slowly to see Ominis, a grim look on his face. Sebastian couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his gaze, to hear the voices around him talking about his rejected confession. 
“All right, show’s over!” he growled, shaking Ominis’ hand from his shoulder. “Everyone clear off.” He rolled his shoulders and stood a little straighter before stalking down the corridor. The younger students jumped out of his way, and he caught the looks of pity from those in his year. Poppy tried to step forward and speak to him, but he just shook his head at her and walked out of the hall and made his way to the Undercroft. 
*~*~*~*~*
It had been nearly a week since Y/N and Sebastian’s argument in the middle of the hallway and she could still hear people whisper about it as she walked by, as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying. A group of Ravenclaws were sitting at a table in the library near Y/N, Poppy and Imelda, and every-so-often they looked over and started to giggle. 
“Just ignore them,” Poppy murmured to her.
“No,” Imelda glared at the group, who immediately quieted down and looked away. “They need to learn to keep their mouths shut, or I’ll do it for them.” She raised her voice just enough for them to hear her threat and they quickly packed their things and left in a flurry of navy robes. 
“You can’t threaten everyone in the school, Imelda,” Y/N said with a sigh, not looking up from her Charms textbook. Another group would soon come and replace that one, and the cycle would just repeat itself. 
“Watch me.” Her grin was unnerving to say the least. “What’s he doing in here?” Y/N looked up to see Sebastian walking up the stairs into the upper part of the library where they were currently sitting. He looked around, a little unsure of himself and Y/N’s heart clenched in her chest at the sight. He always looked so confident, even when he was utterly terrified, but now he just looked lost. “He better not come over here.”
“Imelda,” Poppy sighed and shook her head. “We don’t even know if he’s here for Y/N, he could be here to study.” Even though Poppy was right, Y/N couldn’t help but wish that he was here for her, that he wanted to speak to her.
“No you don’t, wipe that look off your face,” Imelda pointed her quill at Y/N. “Don’t go mooning over him after what he’s put you through. You don’t need someone who’s going to treat you that poorly.”
“He doesn’t exactly look great himself.”
“Who’s side are you on, Sweeting?”
“I didn’t realise there were any.” Y/N rolled her eyes as the pair continued to bicker, her gaze turning back to Sebastian, who had turned in their direction as he heard Poppy and Imelda arguing. He caught her eye and began to slowly make his way to their table, casting a weary glance at Imelda as he neared.
“What do you want, Sallow?” Imelda snapped at him, turning on him as he got closer.
“Hello, Sebastian, are you alright?” Poppy nudged her in reprimand and offered him an awkward smile.
“I-I’d like to speak to Y/N, if that’s okay,” he asked, not quite looking at any of them. 
“Come to shout more declarations of love in my face?” It was a low blow, and Y/N knew it. She watched as he flinched slightly and looked away from her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. She was vaguely aware of Poppy grabbing onto Imelda’s robes to pull her away while the latter protested as she stared at him. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his shirt and robes were rumpled. “Sit down,” she muttered, closing her book. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.” 
Sebastian listened, his hands running through his hair as he slumped down into a seat. He looked awful, Y/N noted, eyes wandering over his frame. It went beyond the creased clothes and the lack of sleep. He looked paler, and Y/N watched as he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand down his face. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I went too far.” There was a different level of weariness in his voice, it went down to his bones, his very soul. The man in front of her was not the one she had fallen for. Her heart ached as he looked up at her slowly with dull eyes. “I always go too far.”
“You do,” she murmured. His eyes slid shut at her words and he braced himself for a blow that wasn’t coming. “And yet, somehow, I always forgive you for it.” She hated admitting it out loud, but once her rage had simmered and the adrenaline had left her a few hours after their fight, she had forgiven him. She could never stay mad at him for long. Even after their only other argument that had happened in the Undercroft years ago when he had called her ignorant for trusting a goblin and stormed out she hadn’t been hurt or angry, just concerned for him.
“I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.” She waited until he looked at her before giving him a small, teasing smile. They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, each drinking in the different ways the other had changed in the past few days until Y/N sighed and looked away again. “I’m not an object to be possessed, Sebastian. You can’t just stake your claim on me.”
“I never…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this. I just…” he sighed and tried to sit a little straighter in his seat. Y/N waited patiently for him to finish his sentence, waited as the wheels turned in his head and he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his heart constricting in his chest and he saw the matching dark rings under her eyes. 
“I’m not going to fight you, Sebastian,” Y/N said gently, reaching his hand. She stopped before she could touch it and instead started to fiddle with the quill Poppy had left behind. “You can say what you need to.”
“It’s not pleasant.”
“None of this has been.”
“No, it hasn’t,” he smiled without humour and finally looked her in the eye. “Ominis and I once heard a conversation in the bathroom. I don’t think they realised we were in there, and they were gone before we could confront them. They were talking about you. About how they wanted to spend time with you and ask you to accompany them - alone, might I add - to the Three Broomsticks so that they could be seen with the Hero of Hogwarts.” Sebastian all but spat the nickname out, hating it in that moment. “They all left before I could see who they were. Ever since then I’ve stood between you and anyone who looked like they were trying to express interest because I didn’t know who was genuine and who was just using you.”
“Garreth…” Sebastian hated himself for being the one to break the news, for putting that heartbroken expression on her face. Y/N felt her stomach churn in revulsion and grief. She wasn’t stupid, she knew there were people in the school who only wanted to be seen with her because of what she was as opposed to who she was. She knew some of the requests she politely turned down for company and a drink in Hogsmeade weren’t out of attraction, but rather a ploy to get into her graces. She never suspected Garreth would be one of them. She was hurt - not because she had feelings for him, but because she had thought they were friends. 
“No, I made a mistake with him.” He pulled a face as he admitted he was wrong. “It turns out he actually wants to get to know you - the real you.” Oh. Oh. Y/N felt her face flush and Sebastian looked away. He couldn’t bear to watch her blush over Garreth Weasley, or anyone, for that matter. 
“What about you?” 
“What about me?”
“Your delivery was less than ideal but…did you mean it? Do you mean it?” she asked nervously, her voice no more than a whisper. Sebastian hated the look on her face, hated seeing her so unsure of herself.  
“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since our fifth year.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he held a hand out for hers, letting her make the decision if she wanted to take it or not. A few seconds passed, and he was just about to rescind the offer, when she shyly placed her hand in his. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing her knuckles as he tried not to think about how perfectly her hand fit in his. “It means that I want you to be happy,” he murmured, “and if Weasley makes you happy - or anyone else who wishes to genuinely court you - I’ll take a step back.”
It hurt him to say the words out loud, to voice the possibility that after all this she wouldn’t want him anymore. Not the way she had once, the way he currently still wanted her. He let her collect her thoughts, watched as she chewed on her lower lip. 
“What if…what if I don’t want you to?” Y/N asked, voice so quiet he almost missed it. 
Sebastian’s heart stuttered at the blush that rose to her cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to be the only one that made her blush like that ever again. For the rest of their lives. The thought startled him slightly, but he realised it was true. He wasn’t saying he wanted to marry her (although, a rather enticing image of Y/N floating down the aisle to him in a white dress did flash to mind), but he wanted to stay by her side. Whether that was in a friendly capacity or more. Merlin, did he hope it was more. 
“I meant what I said too, about waiting for you to notice me,” she continued. 
“Darling, I’ve not noticed anyone else since the day I met you.” He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand again and squeezed it gently before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He watched in satisfaction as her blush deepened, and tried to read the flicker of emotions that passed across her face. “I’m more than aware my confession was…something, to say the least (Y/N rolled her eyes at this) but I meant what I said. I’m in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have been for a while now.” She looked away, unable to handle the deep emotions swirling in his eyes, that are written clearly on his face for anyone to see. She didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth. “I don’t expect you to say it back.”
“I…I’m not good with all of this. I can’t quite say if it’s love but…” Her face burns, and she feels as if it will be a permanent shade of red after this conversation. “I am entranced by you, Sebastian Sallow. I’ve never been in love before, never felt it in anything more than a friendly capacity, but with you…it’s different. It runs far deeper than I can explain.” She presses a hand to her chest, right above her heart that is beating so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. “I can’t picture my life without you in it, whether that is as a friend or more.”
Y/N doesn’t know how else to put it into words. She can’t seem to say that it’s been him from the very beginning. From the moment she beat him in their first duel and he was thrilled instead of being put out she knew she was in trouble. She’d only fallen faster and harder since then, from their first trip to Hogsmeade where he flirted with her the whole way, until the day his uncle had died and she had talked Ominis out of sending him to Azkaban. 
“You don’t need to say it back,” Sebastian repeated, his grip on her hand tightening as he took note of the adoration in her eyes. “I mean, how could you not be in love with me?” Y/N laughed loudly before clapping her hand over her mouth suddenly. They waited with baited breath for Scribner to come and reprimand them, only relaxing when they couldn’t hear her making her way up the stairs. 
“You have to apologise to Garreth.” Sebastian groaned at her words, but there was a smile on his face that he couldn’t quite hide from her. Already he looked better. He still needed a good night’s sleep, in Y/N’s opinion, but life was returning to his eyes and he sat a little straighter, a little taller. 
“Where does this leave us?” he asked, shuffling his chair closer to hers so their knees could press together under the table. He hooked one foot under her ankle and tangled their legs together, enjoying the look on her face as he did so. 
“I’m still mad at you. But knowing you did this to be noble…to protect me. That lessens the blow.” She gently squeezed his leg between hers, grinning to herself as she watched him take his turn to blush. “I do hope you know I don’t need protection though.”
“My still-healing ego from our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class together remembers.” 
He’s rewarded with her laugh again, her real one, and he makes a silent promise to make her laugh the same way every day for the rest of their lives. Every muscle in his body loosens at the sound, and he feels like he can finally breathe again when she grins at him and tugs him a little closer by his tie.
“If you ever pull a stunt like this again…” Although there was still a smile on her face, the threat was evident in her eyes. He nodded quickly, throat bobbing as she twirled his tie between her fingers and let go. She watches as he looks down at her lips nervously and gratification shot her through as his face slowly flushed. A smirk falls on her face at this, and she raises an eyebrow at him when he finally looks up to meet her gaze. “Feeling a little warm?”
“What, no.” He leans back and rubs the back of his neck, his blush deepening.
“Ah, so you’re just blushing like a third year at the thought of kissing me.”
“I’m not blushing.”
“So you want to kiss me?”
“Darling, I always want to kiss you.” The look he gives her makes her stomach flip.  “Can I…”
“Not until you ask me properly.”
“To kiss you?”
“Sebastian.”
“Alright, alright, fine,” he grins, loving the way she rolls her eyes at him. “Will you do me the honour of joining me on a trip to Hogsmeade?”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Sebastian, it’s nearly curfew.”
“And when has that stopped you before?” he laughs and begins to gather her things into her bag before slinging it over his shoulder. He holds a hand out to her expectantly and waits until she grabs a hold of it before they leave the library, waving goodbye at Imelda and Poppy (who are doing their very best - and failing - to eavesdrop). They make it as far as the doors that lead to the greenhouses when Sebastian pulls her under the stairs, ensuring no one can see them as they dip into one of the shadows. She meets him halfway, pressing their lips together in a long overdue kiss. 
“Do you have any final demands for this? For us?” he murmurs against her lips. 
“Only one.” Her fingers run through his hair and his heart stutters in his chest. “I’m never going to make this easy for you. I'm going to challenge you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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cauliflowercounty · 2 months
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Mornings in the Mirror
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
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Summary: a little vignette about getting dressed in the morning with Feyd. Established relationship.
Same universe as Knives Dance based on some of the exposition from part 3 because I’m having trouble saying goodbye to Knives Dance. You don’t have to have already read the series to understand, but there are some spoilers to the series. Set between parts 2 and 3.
Warnings: some suggestive content
Word Count: 2.1k
Written on mobile cause I’m on a bus
You step out of the bathroom attached to the bedroom you share with Feyd, using a towel to gently blot the last of the water off your hair to finish drying it. As you do so, you look outside the window to observe Giedi Prime’s cityscape with its dark, expansive architecture filled with imposing, black structures.
The city is already humming with morning activity. Ships fly through the air, taking people where they need to be like clockwork. You hear the beat of the Harkonnen armies marching on the ground far below your quarters. The sound has become a comfort to you since coming to Giedi Prime. Without fail, the marching would start at the same time each day, ringing in a new day as the black sun shone on the city. Just like all those times before, you feel the aura of Giedi Prime wash over you. Everything is in perfect order, which puts your mind at ease.
Looking over to the large bed behind you, you see Feyd has gotten up since you’ve been in the shower, leaving the sheets untidy over the mattress. You smile. You’ve come to learn his habits over the weeks, and he always does this, knowing the servants will come and replace them with fresh sheets later once you’ve both left. He’s always said that he has more important duties than making his own bed. Now that you’re living together, you know he’s right, especially since he’s Baron Harkonnen now. His daily meetings with advisors in the Harkonnen War Room or diplomats on his throne with you by his side often keep him occupied. His time is precious, as is yours.
Making your way over to the closet, you see your husband through the crack in the doorway. His back is to you, allowing you to see his muscled shoulder blades and admire his slim waist. He’s standing in front of his side of the closet, running his fingers along the series of clothes on hangers. You slip into the closet and approach him from behind. You know he’s already heard you approach when you see his shoulders relax. He turns to you, his Baroness. When he does so, you can see how his eyes soften, a small smile on his lips as he looks at you. He extends his palm outward to you and you gladly walk over and slide your hand into his.
“Good morning, my love,” he says to you before pulling you closer by your hand and wrapping his other hand around your waist before dragging it up your body and cupping your cheek. He brushes his thumb across your skin, sending shivers down your spine
As you look at him, your heart fills with pride, knowing you’re the only one who gets to be with him in this way. You get to see him for more than his reputation. Anyone would scorn the idea that Feyd-Rautha, the psychotic nephew of Vladimir Harkonnen, may he rest in peace, who slays countless slaves in a gladiatorial arena and kills servants at will, would be able to do something so tender. However, here you are, the only one to behold his love and affection.
“Good morning, Feyd,” you whisper back to him against his lips, and he gives your hand another firm squeeze. “I hope you slept well.” You both break reluctantly, knowing you both have to get ready now. “What are we doing today?” you ask him, turning to his closet and thumbing through his clothes yourself.
“We have another meeting with our generals today in the War Room,” he says as he stands back to watch you at work. He was surprised the first time you went to pick out what he wore for the day, but he quickly grew to appreciate the ritual because of how much thought you invested in it every day. “We also have to meet with our Directors of Commerce concerning spice on Arrakis. We should also be receiving news about the status of spice production.”
“I hope Rabban has gotten his act together,” you say, pulling one of his outfits from the hanger and taking an undershirt of his out of a drawer beside you. It’s a deep blue almost black pair of pants with a matching jacket with a high neckline. You hand it to him, and he immediately puts each item on.
You bring your arms to his shoulders to smooth the fabric of the jacket over his body. You grab the seams at the shoulders, lining them up with the edges of his body so that it hangs perfectly on him. The clean lines accentuate the broadness of his torso and bolster his imposing stature. He really looks like a Baron now. You make a mental note to have the seamstresses make more outfits like this for him.
“...And I hope Rabban has figured out how to acquire a brain,” Feyd mumbles, savoring your touch on him.
“Whatever will we do with him…” you sigh in return as you kneel down to smooth out his pant legs.
“Thank you,” Feyd says as you rise to your feet again when you finish.
“Of course,” you reply, starting to make your way over to your side of the closet. He follows you and brings a hand to your shoulder from behind. You twist around to look at him with your brows knit. Why did he stop you?
“May I… return the favor today, my darling?” He asks, his voice wavering for a moment. Your lips part in surprise. He’s never asked to do this before, but his nervousness that he’s trying to conceal makes your heart swell. From that small moment of hesitation, you can tell he’s been wanting to ask this of you for some time.
You step back to allow him access, and Feyd raises his gaze up to the exposed rack of clothes. He starts at one end, pushing the outfits on the rod one by one to take a close look at each one. As he moves down the line, you can tell he’s deep in concentration. Should he pick a Harkonnen gown, or one you’ve brought from Youra? He’s taking great care in this task, which makes you sigh in appreciation.
He finally decides after many moments of consideration. He pulls down a floor length Harkonnen gown with a Queen Anne neckline and cap sleeves. It’s made of layers of fabric that seem to swallow all light that touches it, creating a rich obsidian black. The bodice is an intricately detailed corset adorned with elegant lace and prominent ribbing atop fine mesh. As he turns it around, he drags his gaze up and down the dress. The back is also beautiful, the design stretching all the way around.
“I haven’t seen you wear this one before,” he says, as he admires the open upper back, the edges of which are lined with the same lace as the bodice.
“It has a lace-up corset. It takes longer and requires another person to get into,” you explain, which makes Feyd’s eyes glimmer with excitement.
“What am I here for then?” he asks with a grin.
“Ruling Giedi Prime perhaps?” you jest. He scoffs and brings the dress over.
“Other than that,” he says, taking it off the hanger.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Feyd.”
“It really isn’t any trouble, my love. Please? May I help you?” You see a hint of longing in his eyes and you nod at him, abandoning your towel as Feyd loosens the laces of the corset. He helps you by gathering the dress, giving you the ability to dive head first into the gown. As you pull down the dress over your body and put your arms through the armholes, you immediately notice how luxurious the fabric is against your skin. Even though the corset has not been tightened, you know that it will be a perfect fit by just feeling it on yourself. Turning your back to Feyd and holding yourself straight, you silently signal to Feyd that you’re ready.
“Let me know if it’s too tight,” he whispers in your ear from behind. His breath on your neck makes your skin tingle, and you try to resist turning around, grabbing his head and kissing him. At your motion he begins to tug on the laces little by little, causing the corset to perfectly conform to your figure. His touch is precise and the way he pulls at the strands is decisive and firm. To your surprise, he’s rather good at this and seems to know exactly what to do. Once he is done tightening it, he uses his fingers to gently tie a knot then a bow at the back of your dress with the excess ribbon. As you move around a little to settle into the dress, you feel how the corset isn’t too loose on you, and you don’t feel like you’re being suffocated either.
Before you can thank him for a job well done, he’s already at your feet, placing a pair of strapless patent leather shoes in front of you. He takes your hand in his. You use your free hand to grab your skirt as you slip the shoes on one by one. Feyd beckons you to follow him and takes you both over to the mirror in the closet. He positions you in front of him in the center of the mirror.
“Look at you, darling,” he whispers to you, his eyes wandering up and down the portrait of you in front of him. Feyd could look at this image all day. The bodice fits your body perfectly and the dress flares out from your waist beautifully, making you look like a goddess descended from above. He brings his arms around you and smooths his hands over your front, feeling the lace pass under his fingertips. The look of you together is truly gratifying for Feyd with him in his clean cut ensemble and you in your gown. You both look powerful next to each other. Together you are Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen and you look the part. “You’re exquisite, my love.”
He dips his head down and brings his lips to your neck, pressing small kisses over the area. Feeling the heat within you rising, you turn around in his embrace and bring your arms up around his neck. Capturing his lips in yours, you kiss him fervently. He brings one hand up and combs his fingers through your hair, which makes you feel like a surge of electricity has shot through your veins. As you kiss him back, all of your surroundings seem to melt away into nothingness. All of it is insignificant compared to your husband. You can tell he’s also lost in the sensation of you against his body and in his hands as he rakes his hands through your hair. His grip on your waist tightens as his kiss becomes hungrier, and you feel him tug at your bottom lip with his teeth.
Breaking away from him, you see how heavy his lids are now, his firm grip on you not letting up. You smile at him and give him another quick kiss, this one much lighter. You didn’t want to stop, but you must attend to your duties. “Later, darling,” you sigh into his ear. “I just got dressed, after all. I wouldn’t want to undo your expert work.”
He lets out an amused huff and nods in agreement. You go over to the mirror and realize your hair is completely disheveled. Your dress is still beautiful, but you can’t say the same thing about your hair now that Feyd’s had his hands on it.
“I bet none of the Harkonnen women you’ve had in the past had to deal with this issue when leaving your quarters,” you joke as you open a different drawer near you, which contains all of your hair care tools that you’d brought with you to Giedi Prime. You take a moment to make the necessary adjustments to your hair, trying to salvage it.
“You need not mention them,” Feyd says, his jaw tightening. “They are of no concern to you or me anymore.”
“I know,” you smile, turning back to him and extending your arm. “I’m only teasing. Let’s go.”
He relaxes and gladly takes your hand, allowing you to lead him out of your quarters. With that, you begin your day side by side as Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen.
Thanks for reading! 💛
Let me know if you’d like to be part of my Feyd taglist
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tojiscumdumpster · 3 months
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⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY
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⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.
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✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.
✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!
✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.
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 I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki. 
 Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.
 Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive. 
 Which I have no issue with fulfilling. 
 My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life. 
 However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born. 
 It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing. 
 I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me. 
 That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision. 
 How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.
 And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage. 
 This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction. 
 It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot. 
 I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival. 
 As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task. 
 Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going. 
 To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present. 
 Maybe tonight reminds him of her? 
 “Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response. 
 The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me. 
 His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks. 
 The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty. 
 But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished. 
 “Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”
 Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them. 
 Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition. 
 Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed. 
 That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture. 
 However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made. 
 So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties? 
 All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view. 
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 As always, dinner is silent. 
 Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment. 
 If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan. 
 I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.
 My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction. 
 As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.
 When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together. 
 She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.
 I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that. 
 Not likely. 
 I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why? 
 Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward. 
 Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak. 
 I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”
 “It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me? 
 “There is something I would like to discuss with you.”
 “It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.
 “Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze. 
 He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”
 “Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”
 His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage? 
 This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond? 
 The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.
 No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.
 I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife. 
 But how long?
 How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?
 How long? 
 It possibly couldn’t be more than a year. 
 This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic. 
 However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.
 “Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings. 
 I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”
 “We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”
 “Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew. 
 I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.
 So, I continue. 
 “I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”
 My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way. 
 “If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded. 
 I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love. 
 Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this. 
 Not with Byakuya. 
 By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good. 
 But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning. 
 Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed. 
 I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind. 
 Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him. 
 “Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”
 “Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”
 I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”
 “For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”
 My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed. 
 “You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”
 “But… why?” I questioned. 
 “Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”
 I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”
 “Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement. 
 “It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us. 
 “Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”
 I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”
 “Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans. 
 “You’re being ridicu—”
 “That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”
 “Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”
 It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I. 
 Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter. 
 But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall. 
 Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous. 
 I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before. 
 “Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”
 “Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone. 
 He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh. 
 “I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”
 I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”
 “I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”
 “My lord… please.” 
 He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”
 He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day. 
 I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms. 
 I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—
 “May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core. 
 His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me. 
 When he is like this–I do not loathe him.
 “You may.”
 Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.
 How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so. 
 My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not. 
 He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more. 
 This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched  onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again. 
 Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing. 
 Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans. 
 We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me. 
 “Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to. 
 I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on. 
 My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.
 He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not. 
 No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers. 
 “My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back. 
 “You are art, Y/N.”
 “Address me as your lady,” I demanded. 
 “Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”
 “Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly. 
 His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight. 
 He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste. 
 Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking. 
 He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain. 
 “Am I up to your liking?” He quips. 
 I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”
 The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered. 
  He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers. 
 I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt. 
 I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release. 
 Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me. 
 He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name. 
 “Byakuya…”
 He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”
 “I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”
 “Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me. 
 He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers. 
 Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for. 
 There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before. 
 “Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred. 
  “But I have barely touched you, blossom.”
 I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”
 “You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”
 “Yes.”
 “Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”
 “Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”  
 The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.
 “Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”
 “Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand. 
 I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me. 
 For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise. 
 Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance. 
 I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him. 
 He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls. 
 “I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts. 
 I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”
 Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness. 
 I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement. 
 My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating. 
 “You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”
 “More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”
 “So desperate for my come, are you?”
 I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.
  I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets. 
 Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.
 He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue. 
 “When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”
 I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”
 “So come for me, blossom.”
 His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings. 
 I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release. 
 Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me? 
 How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life? 
 “You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”
 “Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”
 “I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”
 “Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”
 “And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”
 Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.
 Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.
 Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt. 
 But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat. 
 An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year. 
 “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. 
 I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”
 “For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”
 His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”
 He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”
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