#and he's scared. he's scared that if he stops dancing every day for two years his body won't be able to recover.

[simplyholl]

Happily Never After Pt. 1

Summary: A marriage proposal from Prince Loki is every princess's dream come true, except for yours.

Pairing: Asgard Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Loss of Virginity.

W/C: 3.4K

A/N: This will be two parts!

See My Masterlist Here

"Married to Prince Loki?!" You shriek. It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard. "Stop being dramatic, dear. You two are very close. Since Prince Thor is already promised, this is the best match we could secure. Your father and I thought you would be happy considering he is your friend, and not a stranger."

"We used to be close! That was ages ago! I loathe him, mother. This is unfair. I would rather marry a stranger." You protest, wiping your sweaty palms on your long gown as you pace the room. "Why do you hate him? We just visited them last week." She tries to reason with you.

"You said yourself he was your best friend. Do you not recall the tears you shed when your father forbid you from spending time with him unchaperoned?" She pours herself more tea, waiting for your reply. "Yes, well he was my best friend. He's a different person now. I barely know him." You look out of your window, the palace in clear view of your own estate.

Your father was king of a neighboring realm, when the ogres attacked, forcing your family to seek safety in Asgard. You were welcomed with open arms. Frigga and your mother became fast friends. Odin relied on your father's knowledge of the other realms' customs, so he became valuable to him. Frigga invited your mother for tea every day. She insisted your mother bring you along since she had two boys close to your age you could play with.

Thor was older, more focused on playing rough with the other boys. He never paid attention to you. Loki was only a year older than you. You often found him reading under a tree instead of playing. He didn't notice you at first until you insisted the older boys let you play. Volstagg accidentally knocked you to the ground.

When Loki heard you crying, he stood up for you even though Volstagg towered over all of you. He was an unusually large child. Loki brought you to his favorite hiding place. Deep in the woods behind the palace there was a treehouse. He explained that he often came there for solace. It was built for Odin thousands of years ago when he was a child.

Thor didn't like to play there because it was too far from the palace. He thought he would get in trouble. One evening, Loki lost track of time and fell asleep in the treehouse. When he was finally found, Frigga had the place cleaned up, so it wouldn't be dangerous. Ever since that day, you and Loki were inseparable. You used the treehouse as a secret lair for you two to spend time alone.

The other children didn't play with you. They only played with Loki because they were scared of Odin. You understood each other completely. You would make up stories and put on one person plays to share your creativity. You grew up together. It went from playing as children, to hiding out in the tree house after mandatory appearances at balls. You despised when your father wanted you to meet other royals. He would force you to dance with their sons. After two dances, you and Loki would slip away to your private place.

You would laugh about the cheesy things they said to impress you. You would never forget the first time your heart skipped a beat. You were laughing about the visiting prince who told you your gown was lovely. It was the most hideous shade of lime green the seamstress could find. You had requested it that way, so you could hide your beauty. You wiped tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes as you told Loki your reasoning for the unpleasing color.

"You should have known you couldn't hide beauty like yours even in that atrocious gown." His sentiment made you blush, your heart stopped beating as he held your gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds too long. You were sure he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation, feeling his face draw closer to yours. Then you were interrupted by Thor bellowing down below. Your father was looking for you.

You wouldn't be allowed out of his sight if he caught you out there. When you got home, you wrote everything down in your diary. How Loki had made you feel beautiful for the first time in your life, how you wished Thor and your father would have waited moments longer. The next day your father called you into his study, your diary in hand. Oh, how you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

"I forbid you to see him ever again." Your father's stern words instantly made you cry. Loki was everything to you. You couldn't lose him. You told him it was just a silly crush. That what you had written was just a fantasy you made up. He finally believed your lies, but now you couldn't be with him unless you were chaperoned.

Hundreds of years went by, you were as close as ever. You still found your way around the chaperones. You would sneak out at night meeting at the treehouse. You would stay up half the night together laughing as you did when you were children. He would have you back in your bed before sunrise. You always thought it was unfair that you had to be chaperoned, but Loki could do as he pleased.

Then came your first heartbreak. A visiting prince had met you at one of Frigga's balls. He immediately asked your father to court you. You were devastated. You didn't want to be courted. You were happy with your life. But your father couldn't wait to marry you off. But the more time you spent with the prince, the more you liked him. He had dark hair and blue eyes, sometimes you pretended he was Loki.

But he wasn't and there was your whole problem. No one would compare to Loki. But if you had to marry someone, at least the prince was nice. The prince would often find you with Loki going on strolls through the gardens, eating, and reading in silence. One evening, he visited your estate. He said he wanted to end this courtship. You couldn't think of anything you did wrong. He explained that he was certain your affection lied elsewhere, and he wanted to be the only man in his future bride's life. You didn't understand what he had meant, but you thanked him. You were free once again.

Then the latest scandal sheet was delivered by your maid. It mentioned how you and the prince were getting close. You rolled your eyes, thankful that was over. But when you reached the last paragraph, your whole world shattered. Prince Loki had been seen at the brothel three times this week. Not only that, but he had been caught with an unnamed maid in his mother's garden.

It wasn't uncommon for royalty to fuck around like whores, but this truly wounded you. You cried for a week after it came out. Your mother thought you were upset over the prince ending your courtship, so she explained there would be other princes. You didn't visit Loki for three months after the scandal sheet came out.

Another one hundred years passed, and you had grown used to Loki's womanizing. You were at the market, Loki carrying your basket filled with trinkets, winking at the unsuspecting maidens. He made note of the ones he wanted to bed later. You rolled your eyes, as you handed your coins to the shopkeeper, peeling the orange you just purchased.

"Really Loki, can you go one minute without finding four new lovers?" You joked. "Jealous?" He smirked. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." "The only reason you are not overcome with jealousy is because you do not know what I am capable of carnally." The bite of orange you had just taken lodged down your throat causing you to choke. Loki smiled, pleased with himself.

"Of course, I wouldn't know that, or care to find out. You shouldn't speak of such things so loudly. What if someone heard you?" You looked around, your maid, Greta had her eyes on the ground pretending she wasn't listening. Loki walked over to her, dropping a few coins into her hand, and whispering to her. You watch as she goes to the next vender looking at the silks.

Loki grabs your arm, leading you behind a tent. "Aren't you curious? Your parents keep you in the dark, only for the bumbling fool you end up marrying to spill his seed in a matter of minutes." You would be like the other princesses, not knowing what to expect on your wedding night, if it wasn't for Loki. He had told you all about the act some hundred years ago, so you would know what to expect. You were thankful for that, at least.

But now, when he was looking at you like that, and speaking of such things, you wished you didn't know. "You won't experience pleasure with them. They just want to produce an heir, and once that's taken care of, he will get a mistress. I don't want that for you. I hope that you find a love match, but that is highly unlikely considering your father allows anyone with a title to court you."

You consider Loki's words as he leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Let me show you what you are missing. I'll make it good for you. You deserve to experience mind blowing sex at least once in your life." He was the devil himself; you were sure of it. He was so tempting. You knew he was experienced, and women threw themselves all over him everywhere you went. He had to be good at it.

"I - I'm not sure. I would be ruined if anyone found out. My father would kill you.” You whisper, just in case someone was listening. "That's not a problem, I would just marry you before your reputation took a hit." He smiles as if what he said wasn't crazy. "Loki, I couldn't ask you to do that. To be honest, I am frightened. Not of you, but of the act itself. It doesn't sound like it would be pleasurable. Oh, but it must be if every eligible maiden in the kingdom lets you have your way with them."

You continue your ranting until Loki grabs your hand. "I would be gentle with you. We could start slowly. We would only do what you are comfortable with." You agreed to meet him at the treehouse that night. When you're back in your chambers you call Greta in to question her.

"Greta, have you had sex before?" She gasps, looking everywhere but at you. "My lady, that is not appropriate." You sit on your bed, gesturing for her to sit beside you. "Oh, spare me, we have known each other since we were girls. So out with it." You fold your arms across your chest waiting for her to answer.

"Yes, there was one man." She answers, her cheeks turning red. "Greta! Who was it?" She smiles, "Bart, the baker's son. We had a lovely couple of months together, but then he married the butcher's daughter. You see, men are fickle creatures. They use you until they find someone else. So be warned, my lady, keep your heart out of it. Men can have sex without emotions, and us women, well we often times end up heartbroken."

Greta's words repeated in your head all afternoon. You had known Loki for centuries, so you didn't think he would hurt you. But you were tempted to turn around, go back to your chambers and pretend like none of this ever happened. Luckily, he was in the treehouse waiting for you, so you couldn't leave now.

"It has been brought to my attention that men will do this with anyone, so I know it will mean nothing to you. And apparently, it will mean everything to me. I just don't want to regret this." You confide in Loki. "My darling girl, this will mean everything to me too. You are far too precious to me for it to mean nothing. We don't have to do anything if that is what you wish."

"I think you are right. I deserve to feel pleasure, and I trust you. I'm just nervous." Loki cups your face in his hands, bringing himself closer to you. It was so similar to that night when you were teenagers, your stomach erupts in butterflies. You never imagined the cute, gangly boy you knew so long ago would grow into the devilishly handsome man before you.

He kisses you, and it is exactly how you had always imagined. It was as if no time had passed between the moment when he almost kissed you centuries ago and now. You felt exactly the same. When he finally breaks the kiss, you look at him with wide eyes. If just his kiss could make you feel like this, you were in trouble.

Loki sat you down on the old mat you used to read on as children. It had fresh linen on it. Loki must have put it on before your arrival. He pressed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your exposed skin. He had you sit up so he could undo your dress, nimble fingers working quickly on your corset until all your clothing was sat aside. You were bare for the first time in front of a man, but you were not ashamed. You should have attempted to cover yourself, but when Loki looked at you like you were a priceless painting, you felt no need to.

Loki took his time kissing every part of you. He toyed with your nipples, and you felt yourself growing wet. When he lowered his head to take one between his lips, you finally understood why all those maidens would jump at his beck and call. He kissed his way down your stomach, nipping your upper thigh. He spread your legs apart, pleased with your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"May I?" He asks, pink tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. You aren't sure what he is asking, but he knows what he is doing, so you give your consent. His tongue envelops you, sliding from your slit to your most sensitive part. "Loki!" You shout, as he continues exploring you. His tongue flicks your clit as your hands weave through his messy locks.

You never imagined it would be like this. And you suppose if it wasn't for Loki, you would never know. He slips a long finger inside you as he continues licking you, He stretches you, placing another finger inside. You jolt at the intrusion, his fingers curling to caress your walls. You feel like you are about to explode.

"Loki, I feel so wonderful." You tell him. His lips suction around your clit, tugging while his fingers work their magic. Stars explode behind your eyes as your first orgasm rips through you. Loki waits until you finish writhing on his face before coming up for air. He wipes your arousal off his face with the back of his hand.

You think that has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen. But you are proven wrong when Loki undresses. He has filled out since the last time you saw him shirtless, when you were swimming as teenagers. He drops his trousers, hard cock springing free. You gasp when you see the size of him. You were beyond thankful he told you about the differences between men and women so long ago. What a surprise this would be if he hadn't.

"You still have time to change your mind, love. Just say the word and I will stop." He stalks toward you, lowering himself to the mat. "Please do not stop." You say breathlessly. Loki chuckles, settling between your thighs. "This will hurt, but only for a moment. Tell me when you are ready for me to move."

Loki sinks into you, pressure and pain causing you to cry out. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it. It will feel better soon, I promise." You grit your teeth as Loki bottoms out. He stills inside you, waiting for you to give him permission to move. You take a minute, adjusting to his size, before you tell him you are alright.

Loki slowly removes himself before filling you completely again. After a few thrusts, it starts to feel good. "Faster, Loki, please." You beg, clawing at his back as he ravishes you. His hand comes down between your joined bodies, skilled fingers swirling against your clit. The feeling you had earlier comes back full force, another orgasm sending you soaring. Loki pulls out, finishing on the fresh linen on the mat. You lay there, breathing heavily, looking at Loki. He truly is beautiful. "Shall we go again?" He asks, his signature smirk returning.

Loki laid with you three more times before the sun rose. He walked you back to your estate, making sure you made it inside safely before walking back to the palace. The next day, you were excited to see Loki. You secretly hoped you would spend the day in the treehouse.

"Mary was looking for you." Fandral tells Loki, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." They laugh in unison, walking away as you round the corner. "Has someone finally caught your eye?" Fandral smiles. "Actually, I plan on asking the princess to marry me." Loki shocks Fandral who places a hand over his heart.

"Did you hear that, Greta?" You ask your maid, unwanted tears filling your eyes. "Yes, my lady." She answers. "Repeat what you heard please."

"Prince Loki said "You can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." She looks at you with pity. "That's what I heard too. Oh, Greta." You collapse into her arms, sobbing. "Let's go home, my lady. We mustn't let the prince see that he has hurt you."

From that moment on, things were very different between you and Loki. He demanded to know why you avoided him now and why you never had a kind word for him. You never answered because he knew what he had done. He just didn't know you heard him talking about you. That was five months ago. Now, Odin was ordering him to marry and they had chosen you of all people.

If this happened before you would be ecstatic. Now, it makes you sick thinking about being alone with him. You had no choice. Your father had been trying to marry you off for centuries, and you always got out of your courtships somehow. You suspected Loki had a hand in it. But now that he wanted to marry you, there was no getting out of it.

You were expected at the palace by noon tomorrow. You paced the floor so many times, your footprints were probably embedded into the floor. Then you had the perfect idea. You would run away.

The next day everyone awaited your arrival. Your mother and father sat with Frigga and Odin having tea while they waited. Thor patted Loki on the back. "Finally, brother. Everyone saw this coming. I am very happy for you." Loki brought his cup to his lips, when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. He jumps up, rushing to let you inside. Instead of you, he is greeted by Greta. "Forgive the intrusion, your highness. It's the princess she ran away." Greta hands Loki the letter you left.

She sniffles, worried about you. While he reads the note, your father and Odin start planning on sending knights to find you. Frigga comforts your mother. "What does it say?" Thor asks, peeking over Loki's shoulder.

Greta, I cannot marry that pompous ass. I would rather live amongst the pigs. Do not bother looking for me, because you will never find me. Tell mother and father I love them dearly. Thank you Greta, for everything. I wish I could have taken you with me. All my love.

"No need to create a search team, father. I will find her myself." Loki states, leaving the room.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice — Part Five

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: lots of bickering, some IC drama, underlying sexual tension, threats, forced proximity trope, brief mentions of abuse, the sickening sense of being vulnerable and being perceived, helion not being a snitch

Word Count: 8.9k

←Part Four

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel was many things.

It could take him years to list all of the attributes he held— characteristics that spanned between inherently good and inherently bad. Centuries of living had led him to creating so many different versions of himself, some more kind than others, some more wise. But none of them were weak. 

Since the day he’d been freed from that basement, hands charred and shaky, a newfound anger burning in his chest, Azriel spent every minute ensuring he wasn’t weak.

Yet, your voice persisted in his mind. 

You are weak. 

It wasn’t physical strength you were referring to. Which, perhaps, made the statement even worse. Because deep down Azriel was troubled by the fact that you maybe were right. Maybe he was weak. Somehow, someway, you had gotten under his skin— buried yourself somewhere deep and hidden. As much as he tried, he couldn't dig you out, couldn't stop your voice from echoing tirelessly in his mind.

A slave to your anger.

Azriel’s fists slammed into the training dummy. 

To your impulses.

He threw another punch.

to your High Lord.

A biting feeling nagged at his battered knuckles, at the ridged scars that marred them. 

You have always been weak.

Azriel let out a curse as a streak of pain painted his arm. 

This was an unusual form of training for him, the bare hands and hand-to-hand combat. Usually, he practiced with a sword, with his weapons, and it was often sparring with Cassian. But Azriel needed something more today— needed to feel the pain in his own hands, needed something to pull him back into his body, to tie him down from floating away in his thoughts that were plagued by you. 

His wings flared, shadows whipping around him in a frenzied dance as he remembered the look on your face, the fire in your eyes. He replayed it in his mind over and over, focused on the hurt he had sworn he glimpsed there, a flash of vulnerability that you quickly masked with your anger. He couldn't shake the image, couldn't forget the rawness of your voice as you hurled those words at him. He’d begun to think he imagined it, that he’d somehow convinced himself that you’d shown some semblance of care. 

Weak. 

His self control was weak. Maybe this he could admit. He’d been working on it these past two years, working on how to control his temper, on how to be more approachable to those who hadn’t known him for centuries prior. A part of him had done it instinctively around Elain, scared to spook her like a terrified fawn in a forest. And then he began working on it for himself– to prove, in some sense, that he was still capable of being someone perhaps more deserving of a mate. 

It wasn’t going all too successfully, but he was working on it. At least, he was trying to. But with you, Azriel had no control. There were only three emotions he felt with you, only three reactions that his mind registered: fight, flee, or fuck. It had become too difficult to separate them—

Azriel.

The voice echoed in his mind. He skillfully pushed it away. There was an emotion deep in his chest that didn’t belong to that group of three, one that burned hot, tasted vile and sour. He felt it whenever he thought of you. 

He threw another punch. 

Azriel. 

His name was spoken with a tone much deeper this time, much more firm. It shot him back into a prior memory, into one of him staring into angry violet eyes with an icy defiance. Once again, he pushed away the force in his mind. The space that the call had occupied was quickly replaced by you. 

Rhysand’s face was etched into his memory too, a disappointed and angry look of a newly made father. Azriel didn’t want to see it again, didn't want to bother pretending he felt sorry. 

So he struck again. And again.

“Azriel.”

The voice was louder.

This time, it wasn’t just in his mind. It was real, commanding, and filled with an authority that made his shadows tremble for a moment, skittering to hover above his heavy, black boots. 

Azriel paused, chest heaving, and looked up to see Rhysand and Cassian standing at the edge of the training ring. He gave no verbal greeting, opting to straighten his back and tuck his wings into the blades of his back. 

Rhysand raised a brow, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. “I’ve been calling for you.”

Azriel only tossed a glance at Cassian before bringing a hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. Rhys sighed, a sound that was clipped in a sense of frustration. “We need to talk.”

Azriel looked at his hands, taking in the bloodied knuckles and the slight tremble in his fingers. His shadows slowly snaked around his forearms and he felt a tug deep within his chest. 

He cringed at the sensation, at the feeling that had grown to something so routine as of late. 

He assumed it was the nagging feeling of unfinished business, that he was restless and unsettled because, in any other case, he would’ve killed you, would’ve done something to keep you contained—but he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to. A beast wandering free and he was feral for you. Not that he’d ever admit it. Not even to his shadows. 

“I’m busy,” Azriel finally said, his voice cold and final. 

The tone of it felt so jarring that even Cassian’s eyes widened slightly in shock. From beside him, Rhysand’s jaw twitched. He stepped closer. 

“Well then. Finish what you're doing and meet me back in my office within the hour.”

Something burned beneath Azriel’s skin. “I’m not your dog,” he snapped.

Something shifted in the air and Azriel didn’t need to look over at his brothers to know he was pushing their patience— he could smell it, the offense that radiated off them. It should have made him sick, made him feel guilty if anything, but it didn't.

It was Cassian who replied first, a flaring anger as he stepped forward, wings extending with the movement. “Az,” he said sharply, a warning clear in his tone.

Azriel almost laughed to himself. Your voice rang in his mind again, loud and entirely too overwhelming. If he was a slave to Rhysand, what did that make Cassian? A better brother, maybe. An even better-trained dog, too.

Rhysand’s face flickered with indecision, as if he were struggling between what role he should assume—  that of the High Lord or that of a friend. Anger flashed in his violet eyes before he pushed it back. 

“No, you are not,” Rhysand said, “But you are my family and this court’s Spymaster. And I am calling on you in regard to those two positions you hold.”

A moment of silence passed and the thickness of it prickled at Cassian’s skin. He let out a scoff, focusing his gaze on Azriel as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Azriel glared at him.  “Nothing.”

Rhysand sighed. “Fine. You don’t want to leave this ring? I can work with that.” He beckoned Cassian to walk with him onto the ring, stepping closer to Azriel. “I’ve set up a meeting with Beron.”

Azriel’s head snapped up. “That is a bad idea.”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows. “You hid a prisoner from me and risked an entire alliance. I’m not asking for your approval.”

Azriel’s shadows wrapped coiled tighter against him. 

“So why are you telling me?” 

“Because you will need to be in attendance,” Rhysand replied. His tone left no room for argument. “And I expect you to be in control. Whatever issues you have with Y/N, you will not be repeating them again.”

Azriel cringed inwardly. His brother didn’t know the full extent of what had transpired. He only knew the story that Azriel had spun– one of you threatening to end the alliance if he didn’t help you with Renard, how he had claimed he couldn’t stand being around you anymore and ended it on his own terms. The beautifully and carefully constructed lie Azriel had fed him so easily that it concerned him. 

Cassian watched the tense exchange with a furrowed brow. It only took a few seconds before his restraint broke, and he let out a small growl in warning. “Cauldron, Az, are you itching for a fight?” he said, “I would’ve expected you to be ecstatic now that you're not forced to spend time with that pretentious bitch of a—”

“Shut the hell up,” Azriel snapped, his head whipping up to glare at Cassian. The force of his words made Cassian step back, the frown deepening on his face. His jaw tightened as he took a step forward, as if to ready himself to strike.

Azriel quickly checked himself and took a deep breath. “This has nothing to do with her,” he said, his voice strained but measured— controlled. “Of course I’m glad to be free of that gods-forsaken arrangement.” He sent a glance Rhysand’s way, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. “It never should have been made.”

Cassian opened his mouth, his protest painted clear in his expression, but Rhysand clapped a hand on his shoulder, silencing him before he spoke. “Cass, I need a moment with Az.”

Cassian looked offended, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. “What—but—”

“Go,” Rhysand said firmly. Once again, his tone held no room for argument. Unlike Az, Cassian complied, but not without a head shake and a scoff.

Cassian grumbled under his breath, casting one last burning glance at Azriel before leaving the training ring. Az made a mental note that he’d have to fix that later, whatever small crack he’d just created between them. He wasn't too worried about it, but he needed to do it before the wound festered.

Once they were alone, Rhysand’s eyes bore into Azriel’s in a scrutinizing gaze. It was heavy, curious, and frustrated at the same time. It felt heavier than usual. “What is this really about?”

Azriel stared at him, shadows swirling around his hands. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Rhysand’s expression hardened. “Azriel. You have already kept too much from me. I have been graceful.”

A muscle tensed in the shadowsinger's jaw.

“And if I don’t say anything? What will you do then? Command me to be honest?” Azriel’s voice was sharp. While there was a clear challenge in his tone, Rhysand recognized something else in it, something that reeked of insecurity, of a male unsettled.

Rhys narrowed his eyes and his power crackled beneath his skin. “Careful.”

They stood locked in a silent standoff, both rigid in posture and face tightened in a stare. Azriel’s mind raced as he weighed his options, desperately searching for the best route to end the conversation. He settled on a half truth.

“Eris can be predictable. But Y/N is not. And now we have no read on her.”

Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “And whose fault is that?”

Azriel snarled, but Rhysand let out a small sigh that cut through the sound. “Let me worry about that alliance. Get yourself together.”

And then he began to walk away, a picture-perfect image of calm and control.

“When is the meeting with Beron?” Azriel called after him.

Rhysand stopped and shrugged, a faint, almost dismissive gesture. “Maybe in two days. Or two weeks. We will see. Either way—my sentiment still stands.”

Azriel knew Rhysand was right; he needed to get himself together. But the disaster within him, the tangled mess of emotions and unresolved conflict, was driving him more mad that usual. Your face, your words, haunted him still, and he wondered if he would ever find a way to fix the mess you had left in your wake.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You made your way around the library, navigating through the rows of meticulously organized shelves, each one filled with hundreds of beautifully bound books. The scent of aged parchment and faint traces of magic hung in the air and you were almost tempted to linger and explore.

You'd always craved a day in the Day Court's libraries, a time to read and run your fingers along a variety of books. It was just as beautiful as you'd imagined, and you told yourself you'd return another day and appreciate it properly.

But right now, your focus was on a different kind of discovery. Skillfully avoiding the watchful eyes of Helion’s skilled librarians and guards—each dressed casually yet elegantly, exuding an air of quiet power—you moved with purpose.

It only took you a few more minutes before you found the heavy door concealed within a niche, its ancient wood imposing against the backdrop of polished stone. With a mixture of excitement and caution, you pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit chamber tucked away from prying eyes. There were countless shelves laden with dusty volumes lining the walls of the chamber. Small tables and ornate couches were spread throughout the room with faint, glittering faelights that accompanied them.

You could only imagine the type of people Helion had housed here, the conversations that must have unfolded amidst the quiet elegance that the space seemed to hold. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you stepped inside. 

And then you stilled as a prickling sensation bit at the nape of your neck.

You whirled around, seizing Azriel’s arm and slamming him against the wall. Surprise flitted across his face, replaced swiftly by a calculating gaze as he reversed your maneuver with effortless grace, pinning you back against the cool stone instead. 

Before you could offer him a few choice words, a faint shimmer of light danced through the air. The large door through which you had entered shut with a heavy thud, the surface of it shimmering faintly, as if an invisible force sealed it shut.

"No, no, no," you muttered under your breath, pushing Azriel off with enough force to make him stumble. His eyes darted across the room as you pressed your palms against the door, trying to push it open again, but it remained resolutely closed. The air around you crackled with suppressed magic. 

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"It's a containment spell,” you bit out, “We're trapped.”

Some time passed in tense silence as Azriel moved methodically around the room. Your gaze followed his every move, your jaw set in a tight line as you swallowed down the insults that were itching to be thrown at him.

“Can’t you make them do something useful?” you snapped, nodding towards the black smoke that buzzed around Azriel’s form. “Send them to get help or something?”

Azriel rolled his eyes and his shadows seemed to mimic the movement, circling his arms in a fit of annoyance.  “Thank you for that brilliant idea,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “If you haven’t noticed, princess, they are shadows.”

He gestured to the sunlight flooding through the cracks of the grand door.  “They can’t go out in broad daylight. And from what I’ve observed about this library, there's a lot of that. We’re going to have to wait until sunset.”

Helion’s libraries were bathed in perpetual sunlight, with large, open windows that invited the sun's rays to flood the space. It casted a warm, golden glow over the towering shelves in a way that made the space seem dreamlike, made it seem holy. The sunlight wasn’t just a feature; it was a constant presence— the library was filled with sunlight every hour of the day that the sun was shining.

This particular room, however, was the exception. It was windowless, the only light filtering in through the cracks of the large charmed door. The room was designed to preserve the unique and delicate books within, shielding them from the harsh sunlight that could damage their pages. You had come here specifically for this reason, to find a particular book in this carefully protected area.

“Sunset?” you echoed incredulously. “It’s nine in the fucking morning, Shadowsinger. You’re telling me I have to wait until either Helion finds us or until your little shadow dogs can finally go out and play?”

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his mouth falling into a tight line.  “Well, maybe you should break into libraries at more reasonable hours of the day.”

You resisted the urge to pull a book from one of the many shelves and hurl it his way. “I wasn’t breaking in,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “You made this a break-in when you followed me and set off some strange alarms.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed and he took a step towards you. “I didn’t follow you, and I certainly didn’t set off any alarms. That was all you.”

“You didn’t follow me?” you scoffed. “Then what were you doing? Brooding from afar in hopes that I’d apologize for hurting your feelings?”

A flicker of irritation crossed his features. His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed with something close to anger. “H-hurting my feelings?” he said, his voice low, “You think you hurt my feelings?”

“Yes,” you replied, lifting your chin. “I think I bruised your ego by shoving the truth down your throat.”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, ” he sneered. Azriel turned on his heel and took one step away from you before he was spinning around, lifting an accusatory finger your way. “And I don’t brood. I was surveying the area for threats, which, if I recall correctly, is my job.”

“Yeah, in the Night Court,” you snapped back, “We’re in the Day Court, genius.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed with irritation. “The Day Court is our ally. That means ensuring their safety—and ours. If you weren’t wandering into places you don’t belong, I wouldn’t need to follow you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer to him. “So you admit you were following me?”

Azriel stiffened as if he had barely registered the words he’d spoken. He blinked and then he strengthened himself, speaking to you in a voice that was steady and cold. “You’re a threat that needs to be monitored.”

Something burned in your chest. 

“Is that what you were doing every time you slept with me? Monitoring me?”

The words seemed to hit their intended target. For a moment, there was silence. Azriel’s expression hardened and he held your gaze for a beat too long before looking away.

When you realized he wasn’t going to offer a verbal response, you let out a deep breath.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just leave me alone,” you growled through gritted teeth. “I’ve done nothing besides visit an open court. Helion has no problems with me being here. And now you’ve gone and trapped us because you’re an obsessive, paranoid, freak.”

He looked at you again, his eyes guarded and expression unreadable.

“This is not my fault. This is yours. Forgive me if I didn’t believe that you had innocent intentions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, the all-knowing Spymaster assumes I’m up to something sinister. Maybe I just wanted to read in peace.”

“Then why all the secrecy?” he shot back, “Why the need to sneak into restricted sections?”

You felt a surge of frustration flickering in you like a hot flame. You curled your hands into fists, grounding yourself as your nails bit into your palm. “Like I said, I just wanted to read in peace. You don’t know everything. You don’t know what I’m doing or why. So stop pretending you do.”

Azriel studied you for a long moment. 

“Okay,” He began as he took another step towards you, shadows flickering around him like agitated serpents. “Tell me exactly what you are doing here. What book are you looking to read?”

The shadows around him seemed to pulse. You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat, you glowered at him. 

“None of your business,” you said, your voice low, cold, and clipped. “Get off my back.”

“Not until I know you’re not up to something.”

“Paranoid bastard.”

“I have every right to be,” he said, “Especially with you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you shot back, feeling the heat of frustration rising within you — fast and unforgiving. It simmered at the edges of your skin.  “It must be so exhausting living in that tiresome head of yours.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he struggled to rein in his temper. “You have a habit of causing trouble. It’s my job to ensure that trouble doesn’t affect my people or our allies.”

“Your people,” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You pushed away the urge to make a further comment on his choice of words. “If you stopped treating me like an enemy, I wouldn’t feel the need to act like one. Everything that I am is what you have pushed me to be.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually strike you. But instead, he took a deep breath as a shadow of conflict passed over his features. Before the silence between you could stretch any longer, Azriel straightened, his mask of indifference slipping back into place. 

“Why not just tell me what you’re doing?” 

Because you didn’t owe him an explanation. The thought echoed resolutely in your mind. Beneath your defiance, a familiar, almost comforting, surge of resentment bubbled up—why should you justify your every move to him? He was nothing more than an obstacle, an irritating shadow that refused to fade.

So you said nothing, gave no reply. The silence stretched between you and each passing moment seemed to exacerbate his agitation. You observed the cracks in his usual unbothered, stoic facade— the clenching of his strangely battered fists, the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be unsettled, you thought bitterly. His mistrust was a reflection of his own insecurities, his duty an excuse to assert dominance over you. You refused to be cowed, not by him or anyone else.

“Silence. Beautiful,” he scoffed. Azriel turned away and you reveled in the momentary victory, savoring the small triumph of making him fall into a state of unease. 

He began to pace the room, muttering under his breath— you could hear it only slightly, a continuous complaint about everything from the sunlight filtering through the door to the layout of the library. You stared at him, noticing how his shadows mimicked his agitation, swirling around him in a frenzy. His wings twitched with every movement. 

His pacing became more frantic as he moved closer to the door, placing his hand on it as if trying to force it open. “This is ridiculous,” he growled. “We’re trapped here because of your secrecy. If you hadn’t been sneaking around—”

He paused mid-sentence, his movements halting abruptly. As if the weight of your gaze was tangible, he turned to look at you, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that almost made you twitch.  

“What?” Azriel snapped, a strain seizing his voice. Even his shadows seemed to jump at the sound of it.  “Do you finally have something to say, princess?”

You remained silent, meeting his gaze with a steady calmness that seemed to unsettle him further. After a long moment, you finally spoke, your voice cool and measured. “I just have a question.”

Azriel scowled. “And what would that be?”

You observed him closely, tracing every miniscule movement of his body. A wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“What color collar would you like?”  You asked, raising an eyebrow as if to feign impatience. You leaned forward slightly. “You know, to go with all of your bitching and whining? I’m thinking a sapphire blue to coordinate with your gaudy jewelry.”

Your eyes flicked down to his siphons, and as if in response, the siphons glowed angrily. Underneath them, his fists clenched tightly, his whole body seeming to vibrate with anger. If Azriel wasn’t angry before, he was fuming now. The atmosphere crackled with animosity.

“Shut up,” Azriel said through clenched teeth. 

You tilted your head, a defiant glint in your eyes. “Why should I?”

With a sudden surge of aggression, Azriel stomped towards you, his footsteps echoing in the confined space. He came to an abrupt stop just a few paces away, visibly fighting to maintain his composure. His fists clenched at his sides, shadows swirling around him like black smoke as he took a deep breath.

“Until we’re out of this gods-forsaken room,” he said tightly, “Just shut your damned mouth and stay over here. I’ll stay on the other end, out of your way.”

You weighed your options for a moment. You gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Fine. Works for me.”

Azriel shot you a final piercing glare before turning away, his back rigid with tension. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You weren't sure how long had passed, but it had certainly been longer than an hour. 

The enchantment that bound you and Azriel to this room seemed to turn every minute into an eternity. You were suffocating. 

The weight of time pressed down on you as you scoured the shelves, determined not to let Azriel and this infuriating enchantment thwart your purpose. This restricted area of Helion's grand library was vast, filled with more books on folklore and legends than you had anticipated—and a rather peculiar assortment of erotic 'vampire' poetry that you tried your best to ignore.

Despite your persistence, you had yet to uncover any clue as to the whereabouts of what you sought. Each book you pulled from the shelves yielded nothing but disappointment.

You sighed, turning away from yet another shelf of books when your eyes caught sight of a one that stood out amidst the worn and weathered bindings. It was a slender volume with a vibrant red leather cover, contrasting sharply with the tattered browns around it. Without fully realizing your own actions, you reached out and delicately plucked the book from its place, cradling it in your hands.

The cover felt smooth and cool to the touch, the red leather soft against your fingertips. The title was written in an elegant, swirling golden cursive. It wasn't what you had been searching for—a book of love poems wasn't going to help you find the edge you sought—but something about it called to you nonetheless.

You landed on one particular page. The corners were marked with a dog-eared fold, a simple act that nearly drew a smile to your lips at the thought of Eris’s disdain for such casual treatment of books. He would have scoffed, made some remark about how it marred the delicate pages and diminished their value. 

Before the rift between him and Eris grew too wide, Lucien used to sneak into Eris’s room and borrow his books, delighting in folding the pages to mark his favorite passages. Eris would fume at the sight, scolding Lucien for disrespecting not only his belongings but the value of the books themselves. Lucien basked in the frustration and would laugh so hard— a bright, joyous sound that echoed through the halls until Beron wearied of it. 

Lucien stopped stealing those books soon after. He quickly learned that his place was not in his brother's room— it wasn’t even in his own home. 

You turned your attention back to the poem on the page before you, your heart skipping a beat as you recognized the title. Something as heavy as a stone settled in your stomach. 

Your mother was a lot of things. She was quiet at times, yes, but it was more pensive than it was shy. She was unbelievably brilliant, to a point where it pained you to think about it, to let yourself wonder how different her life could have been had she married someone other than your father. How different her life may have been if she never had any of you.

When you were younger, she fed you her fascination of books. Besides Eris and Lucien, your other brothers never took to it as much. They much preferred sparring in rings and finding ways to appease your father. While they lived off of the praise they received like good soldiers, you lived off of the stories your mother could tell you at night. 

It was during those quiet hours, after Beron had retired to his chambers and the River House grew still, that she would sit by your bedside and brush the hair from your face. She would whisper stories into the darkness, tales of far-off lands and brave heroes, of mythical creatures and forbidden romances. But there was one story she cherished above all others.

It was a short poem from the perspective of two lovers torn apart by war. They loved each other fiercely, but the cruel hands of fate kept them separated in life. So profound was their longing that they struck a bargain with Death himself, pledging their souls to be together for eternity in the afterlife. The poem spoke of their sacrifice, their undying devotion, and the bittersweet beauty of a love that transcended even death.

You loved it almost as much as your mother did. 

Love was real. This you knew. But it wasn’t for people in Autumn. It wasn’t for people who shared your blood. 

Your mother proved it. The way her eyes would glaze over as she recited the poem, the way she’d talk about a love that you knew was never referring to Beron. She longed for someone that wasn't your father, someone she could never be with. And Jesmindas death only solidified the fact that love wasn’t made for Vanserras. 

You still heard her screams at night, still held the image of Lucien’s blood curling sobs. 

Loving someone, as much as you craved it, was selfish. It was a death wish— not only for you, but for them as well.

You read the poem again and a heavy feeling itched itself into your heart— something like a dagger of melancholy, stirring emotions that made you feel small and weak. Your chest tightened and you gripped the book tightly, feeling a flicker of fire growing within your bones. 

Your mothers poem was here. In a book that was so clearly loved, so clearly worn. It felt almost sacred, imbued with a history of love and loss, cherished by someone who, like you, sought solace in its verses.

In this spell-protected sanctuary, amidst the hallowed halls of knowledge and ancient books, a realization hit you with a chilling clarity. You fought to regain composure, blinking away the tears that brimmed on your waterlines. 

A soft, feather-light sensation around your wrist startled you back to the present. You looked down at your hands, watching as Azriel’s shadows flitted around you.Their touch was so gentle, so tender that it made you itch. You snapped the book shut, shoving it back into the shelf with a loud thud. 

“If you don’t stop, I will pin you and your wings to the wall like a fucking decoration.”

Azriel let out a growl, but he refused to look your way. He didn’t have the energy needed in him to properly reciprocate the threat, didn’t quite care enough to be bothered by it. 

You let out an angry breath. “Can you please control your little creatures?”

Your hand swatted at the shadows that still circled your wrists relentlessly. 

“What are you talking about—”

Azriel’s words died in his throat as he looked at you. His body stiffened, and within seconds the shadows were dissipating from your wrists. They curled around his body, a single tendril wrapping around his ear.

Azriel’s face softened slightly, a crease forming between his furrowed eyebrows. He held your gaze for a moment. And then he was stoic once more— no trace that he had felt anything at all.

He said nothing and turned around sharply, a wave of agitation passing over his features as his shadows swirled around him. You frowned at the abrupt change in his demeanor and watched as he paced back and forth, his boots tapping softly against the library's polished floor. The repetitive movement was starting to get on your nerves and you opened your mouth, ready to make a biting comment to make him stop.  But you hesitated. Your mouth fell closed once more. 

Something felt deeply wrong. You couldn’t place your finger on it, couldn’t explain why you felt it deep in your chest, but something was wrong. 

Azriel’s shadows, usually dark and smooth like ink in water, appeared unsettled and disjointed. They moved with an unusual haste, swirling around him with an air of desperation. It wasn’t there— that seamless synchronization they usually held with him. 

His hands were clasped together, fingers flexing and fidgeting, marred by various cuts and bruises. He lingered near the sunlight that poured through the door in sharp lines across the floor. He seemed almost drawn to it, yet hesitant, like a moth wary of the flame.

Perhaps it was the troubled look on Azriel’s face, or the tenderness of his shadows, or the memory of your mother—  but something inside you settled. Whatever it was, the pointed edge in your voice melted into a more rounded, concerned tone. You threw a quick glance over your shoulder at the red leather-bound book you had clutched moments ago. 

"What's wrong with you?” 

Azriel’s eyes flicked towards the sunlight again, and you saw a wave of something you couldn’t quite place—fear, perhaps, or deep discomfort. His shadows recoiled slightly as if the light was pushing them back.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but the word rang hollow, lacking conviction.

“Bullshit,” you shot back, not unkindly. “You’re pacing like a caged animal.”

He stiffened at your words and his movements came to a halt.  

You knew what Azriel's past had been like, not fully, but enough.

Vanserras were talented in making it their business to know everyone else's, and you had made it your point to ensure you knew everything about one of your family's greatest enemies— the male standing before you now. You knew what his brothers did to him, even made pointed comments about it recently, ones you fully meant in the moment. But you had never thought deeply or long enough about it, never truly imagined a younger Azriel. Now, as you watched him pace back and forth, his wings tightly folded, his hands fidgeting near the sealed door and the sunlight, you couldn't help but see a different side of him.

Azriel had been confined to a basement, a place likely with little light and minimal freedom. Now, he was trapped here, in this room, with you. Your heart tugged with a mixture of empathy and unease, a wave of nausea rising in your throat. Before you fully comprehended what you were doing, you spoke.

“I suppose since we’re both here, I should thank you.”

Azriel spun around, caught off guard by the unexpected tone in your voice— one that was uncharacteristically gentle. His brows furrowed in suspicion as he stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. “Thank me?”

You nodded, swallowing back your pride as you continued, “Renard came back to Autumn. I don’t know what my father did to him after, but his story was that he’d fallen into bed with a female and got lost in the pleasure — drunken bender and all.”

Azriel’s expression remained guarded, but you detected a sweep of something in his face— a wave of release as his tension visibly faded— only slightly, but enough to where his wings shifted behind him, flaring out to occupy more space.

“So thank you,” you repeated, your eyes not leaving his. “I know it was Rhysand who influenced his mind, and I know it was you who asked him to do it.”

Azriel shrugged, a terse gesture that seemed to dismiss the weight of your gratitude. He looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hummed and annoyance simmered beneath your attempt at gratitude. "Fine," you said curtly, turning away to inspect the nearby bookshelves. But after a few steps, you stopped yourself and pivoted back toward him. "Actually, no. Why didn’t you just kill him?”

Azriel’s eyes met yours as you continued. 

“Renard, I mean. You could have. Probably would’ve been easier. I assume it would’ve saved you a lecture from your owne-'' You stopped yourself, and within the same breath, corrected the word you spoke. “Rhysand.”

Azriel hung onto your hesitation, his brow raising in silent inquiry as he fixed you with a penetrating stare. He cocked his head at you. “Well, that could have gotten you killed, couldn’t it have?”

You blinked and your chest tightened.  “I wasn’t aware you cared if I lived or died.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t either,” Azriel said quietly. As the words left his mouth, he stiffened and took a deep breath.

“What I mean to say is,” he started, his voice now strained with a different tone.  “You’re no use to me if you’re dead. It would be hard to maintain an alliance with your brother if I got you killed.”

You snorted, a smile playing on your lips as you absorbed his words “Right.”

But the smile you wore wasn’t bitter. It was amused if anything, which seemed to ease Azriel’s mind enough to where he was saying your name in an attempt to gather your attention. You met his gaze.

“What are you really doing here?”

There was no use in hiding. You glanced at his shadows, noting their restlessness, and realized they might even help. You decided to tell him the truth. The air was still, the room still locked, but you no longer felt suffocated. Looking at him, at the hazel in his eyes, you began.

"Renard did tell us everything we needed to know," you said, your voice steady. "He doesn't know anything because Beron doesn't know anything. He's trying to find any information on how to get power. I just thought that if I could learn more about Koschei, I could figure out how to step forward."

Azriel watched you intently. Something burned in the hazel of his eyes.

You sighed, the weight of his gaze heavy on your shoulders. "I know Helion has a special interest in folklore and legends. And I know somewhere here is a very old, very special book that has the story and origins of that stupid death god."

You thought of Eris, of your mother, of how Autumn had been these past two weeks. Beron's temper had grown more volatile, his punishments more severe. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the flash of his cruelty, felt the sting of his whip. Your stress was a living thing now, coiling around your chest, making it hard to breathe. You were exhausted— so exhausted that you couldn’t muster the energy to be angry at Azriel as much as before, couldn’t find the effort to hide your vulnerability. 

You waited for him to say something dismissive. Instead, he simply said, "Okay.”

He glanced at his shadows. They darted out from him, spreading around the room like wisps of smoke seeking the smallest crevices. You frowned, watching as they probed the shelves and corners. 

“They’ll find it,” Azriel said. His tone was casual, but the burning in his eyes betrayed his focus. You held his gaze as it seared into you. You already knew that this look would be etched into your memory, that it would surface at times you wished it would not.

A clear hesitancy found its way onto your face through knitted brows. He was too quiet, too nice. It made you wary. 

“Unless you're eager to search hundreds of books one by one?” he added, raising a brow at your silence. “I’m happy to sit back and watch your unsuccessful search resume.”

You scowled. "No. This works."

Azriel gave a small nod and resumed his pacing, though this time, it seemed more purposeful.

You watched as the shadows flitted from shelf to shelf, their dark forms moving with an eerie grace— slipping into the gaps between books, brushing over spines, and teasing open pages.

Your mind wandered back to the poem you had read earlier, the love and sacrifice it spoke of. For some reason, your mind wandered to the shadowsinger that walked a mere few feet from you. As much as his cold exterior suggested otherwise, there were moments—fleeting, rare moments—where you saw a flicker of something more than just anger in his eyes. You wondered if Azriel understood such depths of emotion, if he had felt such love for Morrigan— if that was what blinded him into his deep loathing of you and your family.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself glancing at Azriel more frequently. The tension in his posture had eased, his wings now slightly unfurled as if he too felt some semblance of peace.

It was odd, being in this situation with him, and suddenly not feeling a burning, biting hatred at his presence. You were so used to that feeling of anger, that fierce, consuming rage that burned so hot it turned into desire. That you understood—the satisfaction that came with knowing he was hungry for you despite everything he hated about you. The push and pull, the electric tension, it had always defined your interactions.

You wanted to shred your skin because this female now, this emotional, open one, who was beginning to see Azriel as something more than a male to fuck and a dog to rile up, wasn't you. It made your skin crawl with a kind of vulnerability you had long since sworn off. 

You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the task at hand, but the unease lingered. The minutes stretched into an eternity before Azriel spoke again, breaking the heavy silence. 

You looked at him, noticing the shadows curling around his wrists. He was holding a book, its cover worn and ancient, and he lifted it slightly. "Here it is."

You quickly strode over, reaching for the book, but he lifted it out of your grasp. You clenched your jaw. "Give me the damned book."

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. "We can look at it together."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped, "Are you seriously so afraid of me that you won't allow me to read a book in your presence?"

Azriel's eyes darkened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "You're not the only one seeking information about Koschei and his origins. We're on the same side about that—unless you've forgotten."

 “Fine,” you said, then added with a sarcastic edge, “I’m honestly surprised you can even read. You lack so many manners that I figured you were as slow as the rest of your kind.”

Azriel growled but handed you the book anyways, and a small smirk of satisfaction tugged at the edges of your lips. You took it from his grasp, fingers brushing against his. 

A strange jolt of something—recognition, perhaps—passed between you. You ignored it, focusing instead on the text before you.  You placed the book on a nearby table, feeling Azriel’s presence behind you, his shadows hovering around the pages. You resisted the urge to swat them away, recognizing that they were probably relaying the information to him. 

Time went by, and frustration began to mount as you found nothing new. “So he’s deathless, has no body, is powerful, confined to a lake, and has a thing for trapping females. We know all of this,” you muttered, snapping the book shut with such force that the shadows flinched. “He’s a powerful freak with a fetish for holding women captive.”

You glanced over your shoulder, a mocking smile on your lips.  “He’s basically an Illyrian without wings.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened as he stared at you. His eyes darkened for a moment, and then something flickered in them. He raised an eyebrow. “We should just offer you to Koschei. One day with you and he might be tempted to kill himself just to be free of it.”

Your eyes widened as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Despite sensing his expectation for your anger, you let out a laugh. Azriel blinked in surprise and his shadows stilled momentarily. He felt it again, that strange chill that ran down his back at the sound leaving your lips. His wings shuddered for a moment and he traced the movement of your mouth as it curled into a grin. 

"That was actually kind of funny, Shadowsinger," you remarked, meeting his gaze squarely. "Who knew you had a sense of humor under all of that self-loathing and impulsivity.”

Azriel glared at you, his expression carrying his usual intensity, but there was a subtle softening in his eyes. The sharp edge that usually accompanied his gaze seemed to dull slightly, hinting at a glimmer of amusement. Under the weight of his gaze, you turned your head back towards the book in front of you, finding a place for your eyes to settle that wasn’t his hazel ones. Still, the heat radiated off his body— he was too close, entirely too close.

Ignoring him, you glanced towards the door and noticed the sunlight had lessened. "I believe your little creatures are safe to wander," you remarked coolly, "I think you could do us both a favor and send them to get us the hell out of here."

Azriel let out a grumble, but you observed as shadows flitted across the floor and through the cracks. Relief washed over you at the thought of soon being free from this place, away from Azriel's unsettling presence.

Yet, you could still feel him staring at you. 

"Why go through all of this trouble?" His voice was steady, probing.  "Search for a book you weren't even sure had any answers? Without my shadows, you could have spent hours going through each shelf to find it."

You gritted your teeth. "Gods, do you always ask so many questions?"

"Humor me," he replied evenly.

"I think I've done a bit too much of that recently," you retorted, a hint of exasperation coloring your tone.

You sighed, feeling his intense stare burning into your back. Turning around completely to face him, you gripped against the table, trying to control the heat rising within you. Azriel’s eyes were already on you when you found the will to look at him. 

"You admitted it yourself a few weeks ago. You'd go to extreme lengths for your family, too.”

He raised his eyebrow slightly. “All of this effort for that cruel brother of yours?"

Your anger flared and you felt your body tense as the ember of your powers simmered beneath your skin. But as you glanced at Azriel, his gaze unexpectedly open, you recalled your last conversation with him, how angry you were at the realization that Eris deserved better, that no one would ever let him live down his past. But here, staring at Azriel, in a space that felt so intimate, maybe you could push a new perspective even harder, force a seed of understanding. 

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you decided to reach out beyond the walls of your blinding anger.

"The only difference between your brother and mine is that Eris won’t try to write off his actions as for the greater good. Sometimes bad things are just bad things. And we all have to do bad things to survive."

Azriel scanned your face, his gaze lingering so long that you immediately regretted saying anything. The feeling rose in your throat like bile and a simmering heat spread through your chest, a fire you almost wished would consume you. 

“I’m sorry,” Azriel finally said, “That you couldn’t find anything. That you wasted a day here.”

His tone was so soft that you were almost tempted to believe that he meant it— that he was being sincere. Your chest tightened. That reality was unlikely, and you quickly let your defenses kick in, looking away with a roll of your eyes. 

"Don’t mock me," you snapped.

Azriel's expression hardened as he frowned. "What?" 

Meeting his gaze angrily, you reiterated, "I said, don't mock me. Pretending to care is cruel, even for you."

You released your grip on the table and turned to walk past him, but he reached out, grabbing your hand firmly, pulling you to him. The touch sent a chill through your arm. 

“By the Cauldron, must you fight me on everything?” He said through clenched teeth. “Can’t you just let me say that I'm sorry?" 

You stared at him, taking in his troubled expression, the way his eyes seemed to hold a storm of conflicting emotions. Pulling your hand from his grasp, you rubbed the spot where his touch lingered, as if trying to erase his imprint on you.

"I'm just supposed to believe that you've suddenly had a change of heart?" 

Azriel ran a hand through his hair. "You are infuriating, you know that?" 

"Ah yes, a supposed genuine apology followed by insult. Hypocritical as usual, Shadowsinger." 

Exasperation flickered across Azriel's face. "If I wanted to insult you, princess, I'd do a much better job than calling you infuriating."

You held his stare, anger and suffocation swirling within you. Your hands curled into fists as Azriel's troubled gaze continued to burn into yours.

He followed the line of your neck as you swallowed, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt too intense for the confined space. Perhaps it was the lack of his shadows, the absence of his usual watchful companions, but Azriel found himself moving closer to you despite your recoil.

"What is it about you that drives me insane?" he murmured his voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed in confusion and your stomach twisted into a knot.  "What are you talking about?"

"These past two weeks," he continued, his tone tinged with something raw and unguarded. "You have not left my mind. I hear your voice, calling me weak."

You scoffed and looked away. "So I have hurt your feelings. A bit pathetic, don't you think?" 

Azriel shook his head. "No. You didn't hurt my feelings, Y/N."

The sound of your name on his lips sent a shiver through your body and your chest tightened.  His gaze flickered down to your mouth briefly before meeting your eyes again. You found yourself unable to look away.

“You want Eris to be High Lord,” Azriel stated, “I will help you make that come to fruition.”

You stared at Azriel, momentarily stunned. His words hung in the air, mingling with the charged, suffocating atmosphere between you. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet there was a gleam of something else—it felt like hope, buried deep beneath layers of mistrust.

"Why? You hate Eris.”

"It is one cruel leader for another. But at least this way, it will benefit my home. And then I can be free of you and work to take down Koschei."

His words sunk in slowly. He can be free of you. You tried to read his expression. Azriel extended his hand towards you, palm upturned. 

"We seal this bargain," he said solemnly, his eyes searching yours. “No more sneaking around and I will help you. You get what you want.”

You hesitated. But something inside you—a desperate need for a way out of this predicament, a glimmer of hope for a future where Eris could be High Lord—compelled you to reach out. You placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

As soon as your skin touched, a surge of energy coursed through you both— a burning sensation, starting from your intertwined hands and spreading outward. Azriel's eyes widened imperceptibly, and you sensed him searching for the hidden markings that sealed your pact. He found nothing on your exposed skin. 

You withdrew your hand slowly. There was a newfound weight to the air. You opened your mouth to speak when a burst of sunlight pierced through the dimness of the room. 

You took a large step back, gaze darting to the entrance of the room. Helion strode in with characteristic grace, his presence commanding the room effortlessly as tendrils of shadow snaked towards Azriel, winding their way up his body.

Helion's eyes swept over the scene before him. His expression gave away nothing as he observed you and Azriel. After a moment, he finally spoke. 

"Out of all the collectables in this room, I have to say seeing you two together is the rarest thing I've set my eyes on.”

You shot a quick glance at Azriel. You offered Helion a small smile. “Helion–”

Helion lifted a hand gently. "I'm not sure I want to know," he said. His gaze settled on you. "Have you done anything I need to be wary of?"

You shook your head firmly. "No."

"Then that's all I need," Helion replied casually, his attention now turning to Azriel. "Am I correct to assume Rhysand has no idea you're here?" 

You frowned, head turning to look at Azriel, who managed to meet your gaze briefly before looking back at the High Lord that stood before you. Azriel said nothing, opting to clench his jaw. 

“Alright.” Helion let out a small breath, pursing his lips in thought. "I'm known to keep a secret or two.”

He did, indeed. You knew this now more than ever.

You took advantage of Helion’s presence to observe him closely, taking in his chiseled features and the graceful stature in which he stood. Despite the reputation both you and Eris had garnered, Helion had always been fair to you, not quick to judge. You wondered now if that was due to something beyond an innate sense of empathy he held— if he had a sense of loyalty to you because of the blood that ran in your veins. 

"Let me escort you both out," Helion offered finally, breaking the silence that had settled between the three of you. Without waiting for a response, he turned towards the door. 

As you walked with him, you heard a faint shuffling behind you. From the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Azriel adjusting his posture, the tail end of his movement obscured as he tucked his wings further and clasped his hands behind his back. His shadows coiled around him more tightly than usual. He fell into line behind you. 

You felt a peculiar sensation in your chest. Instinctively, your hand rose to settle over the spot just above your heart. There was a subtle sensation of heat— a tingling warmth that lingered beneath your touch. 

You ignored it as Helion led you out of the library.  

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

enemies.... to enemies to with benefits.... now to tentative allies....dare i say.... friends?

this is a lil turning point for our two cunty losers bc now their bickering is less cruel and vile and its just teasing ugh my HEART

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @sarawritestories

[heartcravings]

.

[a-hazbin-reader]

it's valentines day tommorrow- what's alastor gonna do for reader?

I totally forgot about Valentine's Day-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a cannibal, Alastor scaring people off

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor 100% forgets that it's Valentine's Day no matter how hard everyone tries to remind him

He can remember everything else important like birthdays, anniversaries, and other key events in your lives

But somehow, he manages to always forget Valentine's Day

He is so fucking smart but somehow so dumb at the same time, Rosie is the one who saves his ass every year

She literally plans it now, inviting him over the day before Valentine's Day

"So Alastor~ How are you going to spend Valentine's Day with Y/N tomorrow~?"

"How kind of you to ask-What was that now?"

"You forgot again. Didn't you."

Long awkward sip of tea

"You hopeless man, here's what you need to do..."

If it were anyone else then Alastor would be fucked but luckily he's tHe RaDiO dEmOn so he's able to scramble together something impressive

You'll never know he forgot

You wake up to your favorite flowers in your bed and all over the hotel, Niffty having a breakdown because she can't clean them up

Not Alastor standing in the kitchen with an apron on, cooking breakfast for the two of you

Kiss the cook? Don't mind if I do~

He won't accept any gifts from you until he's finished giving you the Valentine's Day you deserve

Mostly out of guilt over forgetting tho

After the most delicious breakfast you've had in awhile, he invites you out for a walk

He's shamelessly checking you out the entire morning, visibly approving of your outfit for the day

He takes you to one of the most beautiful and lush places in the pride ring that he can find, adoring the amazed look on your face

You almost feel like the two of you are a normal couple enjoying the day together, not two sinners in hell who are walking through faux earth scenery

If there's anybody else around then he scares them away so that you two can be alone and unbothered

Keeps an arm wrapped around you the entire walk, resting his head on yours because if he looks at you then he'll lose his mind

You just look so fucking cute rn

While it might just seem like a romantic walk, it's all a ruse to get you to a planetarium

Again, there's nobody there because Alastor wants privacy with his S/O

Because there's nobody there, Alastor took the liberty of decorating it in romantic lighting and getting more comfortable seating for the two of you

Seating might be the wrong word

The two of you end up snuggled together in a hammock, gazing up at stars that used to be familiar to you both

If you can name the stars and constellations then Alastor will happily listen while pulling you to his chest

Maybe you two feed each other snacks

"No, I'm not feeding you a finger, I love you, but I'm not touching that."

"You love me? How embarrassing that must be for you~"

"Still not feeding you that."

"Maybe I should eat you instead~"

KEEP IT PG YOU TWO

If you fall asleep then maybe he'll smooch your face a little bit until you wake back up

Maybe you're only pretending to be asleep

But the gifts don't stop there!

When you two leave, he takes you to the radio tower for a romantic dinner, and that shit is CANDLELIT

🕯 🍝 🕯

It is legitimately a lady and the tramp style dinner date with him doting on you the entire time

He's been a suave gentleman the entire day so far, doing everything he can to make you blush and swoon

But when you finally get the chance to give him your Valentine's Day gift, no matter what it is, he's genuinely flustered

Stares at it while blushing in silence for what feels like the longest time

"You got me this..? For me?"

"Who else would it be for?"

Not his tail wagging

Once he composes himself then he invites you to slow dance with him, holding you inappropriately close to him

Good thing you two are alone

Alastor is a fantastic dancer and a handsome man so that alone is enough to make you flustered

But slow dancing with him while he stares at you with that rare soft expression, with love in his eyes???

You're just a blushing puddle in his arms which is totally what he's going for, cooing at you sweetly

And he only makes it worse once he starts whispering sweet nothings in your ear throughout the entire dance, confessing everything he loves about you

Alastor legitimately has his breath taken away when he looks at your face afterward

You look so grateful for all that he's done for you today, but he still feels guilty for forgetting in the first place

When he thinks of your gift then he only feels worse, cupping your cheek gently

"Y/N...I have something to confess to you..."

"This is all last minute because you forgot about Valentine's Day?"

*shocked Pikachu face*

"...how did you know? Did Rosie tell you?"

"Alastor...darling...baby..."

Not your hand pulling on his cheek before giving it a few condescending pats

"You forget every year~"

Oh yeah

"But you always make it the perfect day~"

Brags about what you said to him the next day with Rosie, not at all noticing how done she looks with him

Hnnnng!! I love this man

[dark-moonlust]

Lust Beneath The Waves PART 1

Pairing: Kraken x mermaid reader

Summary: the currents carried you to the lair of the monster. The Kraken claims you as his mate and mother of his spawn.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit tentacle smut, dub con, he has two🍆 🍆, triple pen, egg laying. Don’t like, don’t read.

Tales of the Kraken had spread for endless years and whispered among the mermaids and other sea creatures. He was said to be a terrifying monster; he lurked in the dark abyss of the ocean, a massive beast with tentacles and unfathomable magic that no one could fight against. Elder mermaids had always warned you to never approach his lair, for it was said that the Kraken was on the lookout for a mermaid to claim.

For years, you’d heeded those warnings and stayed far away from the forbidden depths of the ocean.

You believed you were safe.

But you were wrong.

One day, absorbed in your search for pretty pearls, you didn’t realize that the currents had carried you dangerously close to the Kraken’s lair.

The Kraken sensed your presence and followed you as you swam.

From the shadows, the creature watched you, his eyes glowing with predatory hunger. The monster’s glowing eyes caressed your body, gazing at your lithe waist, the smooth iridescent skin of and your long hair that danced in the water. You had a long luminous tail, with turquoise scales that caught the light in dazzling hues of blues and greens. Small pert breasts were modestly covered by little seashells, a sight that made his cocks and tendrils thicken.

A sudden shift in the water and a deep vibrating sound made you look around. Eyes wide, you found the Kraken, his massive form hanging over you. He was five times bigger than you, with two glowing eyes, large and luminescent. His skin was black and glistened with an eerie green glow. Massive tentacles shot from his hideous head, long and sinuous, they moved fluidly, each lined with suckers.

Before you could swim away, his tentacles gripped your tail and pulled you to him. You struggled, but his grip was unyielding, the thick tentacles trapping you. Your pretty seashell bra was ripped away, slimy tentacles curving around your breasts, the suckers milking your nipples. You squirmed and cried out, heart palpitating.

“Stop! An—hnn…” you muttered as your poor nippes were tugged and suckled, the monster seemed obsessed with the pink little buds and looked at you almost entranced.

No. That couldn’t be. The Kraken was a merciless monster. He had no heart.

“Why do you fight, little mermaid?” His voice echoed in your mind, deep and captivating. “You belong to me.”

“I don’t. You’re a monster. Stop. Let me go!” You gasped as the suckers at your nipples popped off, leaving your tips sore and red.

“You’re my mate. Can’t you feel it?” The tip of a tentacle caressed your chest, over your beating heart.

Disoriented and intoxicated by his presence, you struggled to ignore the hazy sensations. Your heartbeat was erratic, a strange hunger rising in your belly. And that was when you suddenly realized it; you weren’t that scared of him. Sure, he was huge and intimidating, his tentacles were everywhere, but you wanted him to caress you.

A gentle tentacle petted your face almost tenderly. “See? You feel it, too. You crave me.”

Before you could answer, a long slimy tentacle parted your lips and slipped inside your mouth. A moan was torn from you as it tasted your mouth, the appendage exploring every crevice of your mouth. The monster couldn’t actually kiss you so he feasted on your taste, repeatedly plunging his tentacle down your throat and letting out low vibrating noises which turned you on.

A husky voice filled your mind, again. “You are safe, little mermaid. You’ll be my mate, the mother of my spawn.”

You drew away from him with a groan.

“We can’t. We can’t mate.”

Your eyes lowered to your tail as if that was proof enough. Your breath hitched at the sight of two monstrous tentacled-cocks hidden among the mass of his slimes. His cocks were similar in shape and size, ribbed and textured with veins, the head of each cock was bulbous, with a slight taper that flared out at the tip. The cockheads pulsed and twitched, secreting a warm, slippery fluid that made your belly pool with warmth.

“Is that all that troubles you, precious little one? That you don’t have a pretty pussy and a tight little ass?

You blinked, you face forming a small grimace. He sounded so smug. Then he began to chant in an ancient language and some of his tentacles turned into tendrils of magic, glowing with a soft green light as they wrapped around your tail. You gasped as warm magic coursed through you and painlessly caused your tail to tingle and change shape.

In a heartbeat, your beautiful tail transformed into two smooth, perfect legs. You kicked your feet, awed that he could do such a thing. Normally, you could only shift when setting foot on land, but he’d done it in mere seconds. The Kraken’s tentacles grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide apart as he lifted your body towards his face. In between your thighs, there was a pretty pink pussy and a pouting little asshole exposed all to him.

The Kraken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “You are perfect, little mate. Perfect.”

More tentacles came out of his body, in various shapes and lengths. They travelled over your flesh, leaving trails of slickness wherever they touched. Two small tentacles slithered up your inner thighs, one flicking your clit while the other slipped inside your pussy, swirling and wiggling. Shivers of pleasure ran through you, your moans turning into needy whimpers when his slimes circled your breasts, licking around the rosy areolas before devouring your nipples.

Keeping your legs wide open, the Kraken rubbed the head of one of his cocks across your entrance. You stared down, watching as something as big as your forearm rubbed against your tiny cunt. No one had fucked you there. You whimpered, pain and pleasure mixing when he invaded you, slipping inside inch by inch. In one smooth glide, his cock was buried so deep inside you that the Kraken’s heartbeat in your chest.

“A virgin. My precious virgin mate,” he said, a tentacle licking affectionately into your mouth. “See how we fit? Because you were made to be mine. My mate. Are you hurting?”

“No. Need… mmore,” you moaned, fingers closing around slimes securing your wrists.

“I’ll give you everything. All of me.”

And with that he guided another thick tentacle into your mouth. It pulsed its way deep, leaking liquid down your throat, causing you to gag. The taste was sweet and you swallowed, tongue working around the appendage. Moist suckling noises resounded as it fucked your throat, thrusting back and forth.

Gluck… gluck… gluck…You drew frantic breaths and moaned around the tentacle in your mouth while your breasts bounced in synch with each pounding thrust in your pussy.

“What pretty sounds,” you heard him drawl proudly. “My beautiful mate.”

Two more tentacles snaked over the globes of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to expose the pouting rosebud between. You squirmed and cried out around the tentacles fucking your mouth.

“Nnhhh! Not— hmnn— there—”

He distracted you with caresses over your clit and at the same time, pulsating slimes slipped past the tight entrance of your asshole. They prepared you, you realized with a little fear as they fucked you gently, leaking lubricant into your ass. Soon, you realized why. The second monstrous dick came to rest against your rosebud, the blunt cockhead nudging the puckered hole. It wormed its way inside you, forcing you to accept his girth and part around him. Slowly, oh so slowly, the second cock was lodged up your ass, making you impossibly full. Even your belly had rounded from the invasion of both cocks.

“That's it, little mate. You take me so well,” he whispered. “Look at you, my beautiful mermaid. Her little holes pounded by her mate.”

“Mnn…mnh!" You breathed through your nose, the fullness, the stretch and depth, making you whimper around the tentacles in your mouth.

When the cocks started to fuck you, you saw stars. You felt them move inside you, each ridge pressing against your sensitive spots. The suckers feasted harder on your nipples, latching onto the reddened buds and suckling them loudly. The tip of another tentacle stroked your clit and you came hard, your pussy squirting. The sound of your muffled moans travelled through the ocean, accompanied by the switching sounds of tentacles pounding your body.

The Kraken roared, relentless in his pounding.

Finally, the tentacles fucking your mouth drew back, allowing your cries of pleasure to echo through the water. Then both cocks nudged as deep at they could go. You tensed, feeling the pressure intensify. The huge shafts pulsed, alive with energy and you felt pop after pop flowing inside your holes, followed by the heavy weight of… eggs. One by one, you felt them as they were deposited deep inside your pussy and ass.

“Ugh .. ungh what?" you whimpered and climaxed again, the walls of your cunt and ass contracting.

“A Kraken needs to mate both holes to lay his eggs. That is how we breed,” he explained, a tentacle rubbing your back soothingly. “Easy, precious one.”

It felt like hours later when the cocks exited your body. The intensity didn’t subside though, because your belly was bulged with his eggs. The Kraken’s tentacles cradled you protectively and you rested against him, spent and satisfied, your mind reeling from what had happened. Not only you had mated the Kraken but you were now carrying his eggs.

“You did well, my mate”, he said, a tentacle cupping your belly. “Took ten of my eggs on either hole.”

“I’m huge,” you whispered, “I won’t be able to swim as I used to.”

“You’re beautiful. Carrying our spawn. Rest now, little one. I will take care of you. Trust me.”

And you did, your eyes shutting as you let go in his embrace.

Follow for more delicious monster smut! I hope you enjoyed this!

[cheeseceli]

Husband Chan

Pairing: Husband!Chan × Gn!Reader

Genre: headcanons, fluff, angst for less than a second

Request: husband chan!.... girldad chan...... i am going insane over domestic chan overall 😭😭

Warnings: kisses, reader and Chan become parents (no pregnancy involved), mentions of cooking

A/n: ok so this starts as boyfriend Chan but I swear it's husband Chan!!

Boyfriend!Chan who knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you since the first kiss, maybe even before that

Boyfriend!Chan who tried to find the perfect ring and set up a perfect scenario for months until he finally asked for your hand

Boyfriend!Chan who couldn't help but tear up when you said yes to marrying him

Fiancé!Chan who promised to love you until the day death finds him and even after that

Fiancé!Chan who was SO happy with the approval of both of your families, and was so excited that both worlds would be one in no time

Fiancé!Chan who never smiled as much as he did in the live he announced his wedding to stays

Fiancé!Chan who always shows his ring finger to photographers and paparazzi

Fiancé!Chan who can't shut up about the upcoming wedding, that being the topic of most of his lives and conversations with his friends

Groom!Chan who cried when he saw you in your wedding day

Groom!Chan who promised to protect and care for you, and to give you the best life you could ever think of

Groom!Chan who couldn't kiss you properly after the vows because he was smiling too much

Groom!Chan who danced with you the whole night, saying "I love you" as that was the only truth he knew

Husband!Chan who took a whole month off from work just so he could take you in a honeymoon

Husband!Chan who makes the impossible just so you can go on tour with him every time. He never wants to get separated from you

Husband!Chan who simply adores these really domestic moments where he can just appreciate the life you both are making

Husband!Chan who can't even think of sleeping without you next to him because he knows he can't

Husband!Chan who actually smiled more than he did in his wedding announcement some years later, when he got to see your daughter for the first time

Dad!Chan who introduced the kid to his members and was delighted to see how his families were merging into one

Dad!Chan who cries in your arms because he is scared he won't make a good enough father

Dad!Chan who has all his doubts forgotten the moment his daughter stops crying just by looking at his smile

Dad!Chan who teaches your daughter how to cook and how to play the guitar, even if the instrument is twice her size

Dad!Chan who noticed how his little girl was growing up and looked like the perfect mix of both of you, representing the love between the two of you

Dad!Chan who can't wait to grow his family with you a little bit more

Husband!Chan who can't wait to live the rest of his life with you by his side

Chan who felt healed and complete after all

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!!

My work does not reflect reality in any way, this is purely fiction

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[marvelsmylife]

Begin again

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.

A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)

Warning: fluff

Part One Part Two Bonus Scene

Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.

It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.

You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.

He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.

The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.

Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.

The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.

Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”

Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”

“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”

“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”

You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.

His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.

You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.

You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”

“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”

A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”

“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.

By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”

Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.

To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 

You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”

A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”

“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”

“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.

A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.

@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321 @pussyistasty-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @anuttellaa @pussyistasty-blog @fightmedraco @aunicornmademedoit @esposadomd @thelov3lybookworm @harrystylesfan2686 @sarawritestories @fxckmiup @sleepylunarwolf @mochibabycakes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714 @tenshis-cake @tele86 @63angel @sagskylar01 @i-am-infinite @kristin813 @one-big-fangirl

[cryptidghostgirl]

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Valentines day special :) How Y/n and Alastor met and fell in love.

Warnings: Cannibalism, cannon levels of violence and gore and the like. Gender neutral reader.

Word Count: 2,686

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I am getting to requests, I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy for Valentine's Day :)

Loving Alastor was like dancing for Y/n. It was something they did by nature. There had never been a period of having to learn and they didn’t have to be good at it, they just had to try. Sure, he could be mean. He could be quick to anger and cruel but, so could everyone. It was worth it in their mind. He was wonderful enough that all the bad was more than manageable.

Alastor had not had the same experience when it came to Y/n. They were nothing if not stubborn and from the moment he met them, Alastor didn’t really know what to do with them. He had tried all the usual tricks: getting them to make a deal, threatening to put their voice in his next broadcast, the usual things that normally worked quite well. Y/n had just brushed them all off with a light hearted laugh as if each and every one of them had been some poorly planned joke on his part.

When he had realized none of his normal tricks were going to work, Alastor had tried to avoid the strange demon. He had done everything he could to stop seeing Y/n save for out right murdering them. While normally that would be an option, perhaps the best option, something about the way they thought it was all a joke just took the entertainment right out of it for Alastor. It was no fun if they weren’t scared and Y/n seemed like the type of person who’d keep laughing until the very end. He was sure their murder would just wind up being unsatisfying, maybe even vaguely off putting. It just wasn’t worth it in his mind.

Y/n on the other hand, had taken quite the liking to the feared Radio Demon and his straight edged sense of humor. Of course, they’d heard the stories about him. If anyone had asked them the truth back in those days, they would have admitted it was all an act. That secretly, beneath it all, the were scared of Alastor, that they were just trying to save face. The thing was that while he did freak them out a bit, send the odd shiver down their spine with his grin, they also found him intriguing. Y/n, like any demon, liked being entertained and Alastor? Well, he was the most entertaining thing they’d come across in years.

They had tracked him down all over the rings of Hell, there was no escape. Everywhere Alastor turned, he was met with their kind and oddly appealing face. At last, he had relented. Giving in to Y/n’s persistence, the two entered into a mildly uneasy contract of friendship.

They were his antithesis in every sense of the word. Where Alastor was prim and proper, put together and always well dressed Y/n was rather wild and undone. Where he had nearly perfect manners even when feasting on the flesh of unsuspecting demons, Y/n always seemed just slightly out of their depth. Somehow, they also seemed to always end up on top. It irritated Alastor in a way. He worked hard for his image, to get what he had. Y/n just seemed to stumble into their fortune, winning because they were too hard headed to do anything else rather than because they particularly deserved it.

It was a loose relationship they had. The occasional run in, the once in a while team up against someone neither of them liked. Not enemies, but not quite anything else either. An uncomfortable and confusing middle ground. Alastor liked it that way, he kept it that way. If Y/n was a distant facet of his life, then things didn't have to be confusing. Things could be normal and alright and under his control, just how he liked them.

It was the day Alastor walked in on them in his library that his opinion began to shift. Y/n had broken in, and inelegantly at that. The glass of one of the windows was completely gone, shattered in unrecognizable shards across the floor. He was about to yell, to attack them even, as he rounded the sofa they were lounging on. That was when he realized that the book they had pulled from his shelf was in Latin. He had stopped, staring at them in mild surprise. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that they even seemed to notice he was there.

“You broke my window.” he had said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

“Yeah, sorry.” Y/n waved him off, barely looking up from their book, “Can you remind me what gravidis means?”

“Gravidis?” Alastor repeated after a moment, taken aback as always by their casual manner of being.

“Yeah.” they sighed, at last letting the book fall face up into their lap as they met Alastor’s eyes, “You don’t have a dictionary in here and know it is an adjective. I remember it meaning pregnant? But this is Thyestes, famously known as Seneca’s play without women so it can’t be. That doesn’t make sense, I just can’t think of what else it could be.”

“I didn’t know you knew Latin.”

“So?” Y/n had shrugged, raising the book to their eyes once again, “You don’t know a lot about me. Just cause I know how to have fun doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Gravidis. Help me. Now."

They were silent for a moment. Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Please.”

“It can also mean laden down, heavy, things such as that I believe.”

They carefully examined the words on the page, their mouth moving silently as they read. Suddenly, their eyes went wide, a smile breaking its way across their face.

“Oh my gosh wait, Seneca was so smart." they had exclaimed, barely looking up at Alastor, "He’s full of his children, laden down or whatever, because he eats them but it’s a perversion of pregnancy so that’s why Seneca used gravidis. I love him so much!! That’s literally such an insane move to pull.”

Yes, that had been the first thing. The first event to occur that caused the switch to flip in Alastor's head, made him stop seeing Y/n as so much of an irritation and rather more as an object of curiosity. Still, he did not seek them out. Still, he kept their conversations short and to the point. That was until the second major event occurred.

A few weeks later, Alastor was visiting Rosie in Cannibal Town. The pair were quietly having tea in the back room of her shop, catching up and enjoying one another's company. It had been quiet and pleasant. That was, until there was a knock at the door.

Alastor could picture it like it had happened yesterday. Rosie had gently placed her cup and saucer on the table, calling for the person to enter. It had been one of her employees, shaking in the doorway in fear of the pair of overlords. He had announced that there was a guest and in response to Rosie's furrowed brow, Y/n had peered out from behind the demon with a little wave.

Rosie had lit up immediately, getting to her feet and pulling the younger demon into her arms. Y/n had sighed, pretending to be irritated by the affection. Alastor could have sworn he caught a smile as they at last freed themself from Rosie's grip and sat down lazily on the couch.

"Y/n, dearest, I don't believe you've met Alastor. He is one of my oldest friends."

Y/n had shot Alastor a menacing look, halfway between a joke and a challenge.

"Oh we've crossed paths once or twice." they had hummed, grabbing a finger from the box on the table and popping it into their mouth.

Alastor rubbed his temples in irritation, sighing deeply.

"You broke into my house three weeks ago. I would not call that crossing paths."

Rosie looked between the pair for a moment in surprise before she broke out into peels of laughter. Alastor looked up, confused at the reaction as Rosie calmed herself. She took a deep breath, a hand to her chest.

"I should have known." she smiled, "You two would be close."

Y/n and Alastor had shared a look.

"So, how do you two know one another?" he asked after a tense moment.

Rosie smiled, grabbing Y/n's hand in one of her own and rubbing their knuckles gently with her thumb.

"Y/n here is my favorite protege."

"What?" Alastor asked in utter disbelief.

"Yep." Y/n nodded with a smile, "Rosie took me under her wing when I first arrived. She's a true peach."

It didn't take much time after that for Y/n to realize that the nature of their interest in Alastor was maybe not so innocent after all. They came to terms with the fact that it was something more that mild curiosity, a thirst for entertainment, with relative ease. It was just who they were. Of course it made sense the dangerous demon with a quick wit and sharp teeth would be the object of their affection.

Alastor on the other hand had barley come to terms with the fact that Y/n might be worth his time in any capacity when a few months later, he walked in on them murdering another demon. He had heard a noise from a nearby ally when taking an after dinner stroll. His sense of intrigue getting the better of him, Alastor had turned down it.

At the end of the dead end ally were a pair of demons. One was sitting on the other, hunched over it and tearing at it's skin with their elongated claws. Sensing they were no longer alone, they sat straight up and turned their wide eyes to the ally's entrance.

That was when Alastor had realized two things. One, the demon who had been attacking the other demon was, in fact, Y/n. They were soaked in someone else's blood, their hair wilder than normal and their eyes wide with surprise. They smiled, their teeth sharp points.

"Alastor!" They happily called to him, "Want some?"

That was when he realized the second thing: Y/n was beautiful. He looked away immediately, quickly turning his back on the scene as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"No." he hurriedly called over his shoulder, "I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

He heard the rustling of fabric as Y/n stood from the demon and walked over to him. Taking a deep breath, Alastor turned to them as they stopped beside him. Y/n shrugged casually.

"I'm not really hungry, I just was bored. You wouldn't be spoiling anything."

For Alastor, loving Y/n was like a disease. It was a diagnosis, the doctor refused to meet his eyes when he broke the news. It was terminal, his death hinged on them.

He spoke to Rosie. She was far from the neutral party on the matter he desired but, Alastor didn't know where else to go. She had smiled brightly when he had revealed the truth of his confusion, made some comment about knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. From that point on, he and Y/n were inseparable. Somehow, they always managed to find their way to one another's sides.

They never said anything about it because they didn't need to. It was fundamental, they each felt the need from one another. The gentle touches were enough, the bright smiles, the lingering gazes. They both knew how the other felt just like they both knew that no matter what happened or how long they were apart, they would always wind up back together.

Y/n was not worried when Alastor disappeared. It wasn't the first time and they knew it wouldn't be the last. They knew he always ended up okay. It was, however, most certainly the longest time they'd spent without him since meeting the Radio Demon. When, seven years after his departure, they caught the familiar static of his voice through the radio, trashing Vox who had tried to fill Alastor's shoes in his absence, it didn't take long for Y/n to track him down.

They rang the bell to the Hazbin Hotel, looking fondly up at the radio tower that had been haphazardly added to the side of the building near the roof. There were some shouts, some quiet footsteps, and the door swung open. Standing behind it was none other than the princess of Hell herself, Charlie Morningstar.

"Hello, would you like to check in?" she asked with a bright and kind smile.

Y/n looked over her shoulder to the lobby. Sitting on the couch within were a handful of demons, some familiar and some not so much. They shifted their gaze back to Charlie as a smaller, gray demon missing an eye came up behind her.

"Is the Radio Demon here?" Y/n asked, clasping their hands expectantly before them as they rocked back and forth on their heels.

Charlie exchanged a sceptic look with the demon behind her.

"You're not here to attack him, are you?"

"Something like that." Y/n hummed in response.

Before any of them could say another word, Alastor pulled himself from the shadows behind Charlie and the other demon. Y/n's breath caught in their throat.

"I thought I heard someone at the door." he stated, eyes fixed on Charlie, "Is everything quite all right?"

"Yeah." Charlie replied after a moment, "I think so at least. They asked for you?"

As Charlie spoke, Y/n slipped past her, walking right up to Alastor. Vaggie grabbed her girlfriend's arm, drawing her attention to the situation at hand. Charlie stopped speaking, watching the pair of demons intently. Alastor looked down with wide eyes as Y/n stood their ground, their hands on their hips and a slightly irritated expression on their face.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” they stated matter of factly.

“You found me.”

“You happy about that?”

It was the first time either of them had really addressed the reality of their emotional situation. It was the first time either had ever asked instead of just assuming. Alastor’s smile softened as he realized the great Y/n, awe inspiring demon, afraid of no one and nothing, was nervous. They looked away, their hands fiddling with the cuffs of their sleeves as they waited for him to answer the question.

“Of course I am.” Alastor hummed, grabbing their shoulder and pulling them into his chest, “Don’t be a fool.”

Gently, he wrapped his arms around their smaller form, holding them close. There was a delicacy to his movements, a fear to harm. Charlie watched in excitement. Surly if someone like the Radio Demon could treat someone with such care, such grace, such… love, surly that meant that even Alastor himself had a chance at redemption. His chance was rough around the edges. It had bruised knees, messy hair, and a crooked grin. His chance wore beat up old converse and was easy to excite.

“You’re the fool.” Y/n shot back, their voice muffled by the fabric of his coat as they slowly wrapped their arms around his waist in return.

“Oh yeah?” Alastor chuckled fondly, planting a soft kiss on the top of their head.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, lifting their head slightly so they could meet his eyes.

“And why is that?”

Y/n thought for a moment. Their cheeks flushed pink as they shrugged.

“I don’t know. You just are.”

Alastor chuckled lightly and released Y/n from his grip. They took a step back away from him but not before sliding one of their hands into one of his. They slotted together like they were cut from the same stone.

“Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”

“Even if I do, you’ll just find me again.”

“Yep.” Y/n nodded, “It’ll take more than seven years to get me off your back.”

Alastor squeezed their hand gently.

“I’ll remember that.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Our daddies uses to joke about the two of us | Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Summary: Your fathers' jokes turned to reality

Word count: 0.5k

I have not written for obx in a long time, but I was listening to Taylor Swift - as I very often do - and got this idea when hearing Mary's song

p.s. I'm back to writing for obx!! Sent requests!!

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

—

You were seven and Rafe was nine when you met him.

Unlike him, your family didn’t live on the island. You had a summer house. Every July, your parents would pack and drive to Kildare to spend summer there. It was nice being close to the beach, but you didn’t have many friends.

Your fathers were golf partners at the country club and decided your families would celebrate 4th of July together at the Cameron estate. The house was massive and they had a pool and a large backyard to run around.

Sarah was introduced to you first, but she liked the color pink and turtles and you preferred lime green and stingrays. Therefore she couldn’t be your friend. Rafe liked lime green, but not stingrays…and you could live with that.

That summer, Rafe became your entire world.

You would go to the Cameron house and play pirates or swim in their pool. Your swimming skills weren’t the best, but Rafe was a great swimmer and promised he would never let you drown. Rose would bring you iced tea and animal crackers, and Rafe always let you have the tiger shaped ones.

At the end of summer, the country club had a season closure event and the loud noises of the fireworks were scaring you. You wanted to go to your mom for comfort, but you couldn’t see her. Instead, Rafe took your hand in his and distracted you by telling you about the frog Sarah caught and brought inside the house and a screaming Rose.

A year later, pink had become your favorite color, but you still spent your summer with Rafe. He didn’t want to play pirates anymore, but it was okay. 

When you turned nine, you dared him to kiss you under the backyard tree and ran when he tried because kissing was yucky. 

The fifth summer, Rafe had grown a few inches and was now towering over you. He kept saying he would beat you up because he was bigger than you, but he never did. He would never physically hurt you.

The following year, two boys started coming over to Rafe’s house. Kelce and Topper. They were always talking about girls — more specifically the brunette lifeguard at the beach. It made you uncomfortable, so you painted your nails with Sarah. 

A few years went by and you turned sixteen. Suddenly you weren't that little girl Rafe used to see. Your body had gone through puberty in the past year and on pool afternoons, Rafe had to force himself to stop looking at the way you filled your bikini and focus on the beach ball Topper was throwing at his head. 

You fathers used to joke about the two of you growing up and falling in love, but the joke was no longer one when you got caught kissing at midsummer. Rafe had another girl for date, but it was you he wanted to hold hands and dance with in that way-too-warm-for-summer tux. 

Goodbyes were extra difficult when August came to an end.

The breeze of the beach at night blew as you rested your head on his shoulder. Your friends were closer to the fire, drinking beer and celebrating the last day of summer. 

‘’I don't want you to leave,’’ Rafe said, watching as the water washed over the sand and swished. 

‘’Me either.’’ Your heart was heavy, knowing when morning come you'll get on the ferry and head home. ‘’I love you to the moon and Saturn, Rafe Cameron.’’

—

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[lowkeyremi]

Haikyuu men as fathers pt 2.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Ft. Kuroo, Tendou, Atsumu, and Tsukki.

Decided instead of babies I wanted to do slightly older kids! :)

CW: Indication of pregnancy, relationships, marriage and some angst for tsukki’s

Enjoy lovelies <33

…………….

Kuroo Tetsuro:

“Nap time! If my two munchkins don’t go to take a nap, the nap time monster will come out!” He hears little playful shrieks from his son and daughter.

“But Daddy, I don’t want to!” His daughter whines. A soft smile arose on his face as he bent down to his 6 year old daughter’s level. “Mommy will get mad at me if you little nuggets don’t go lay down.” Kuroo covers his eyes and pretends to cry. His son comes out of nowhere and starts trying to comfort him. “Don’t cry daddy! Umiko and me will go lay down! Come on sissy, we don’t want daddy to cry anymore.” 6 year old Shinji drags his twin sister to their room.

As soon as he’s sure they’ve turned the corner a lopsided grin appears on his face, “works every time.”

He is a dad boss no questions asked

You need a break from the kids? He’ll take them to the park and get all their energy out

For the first couple of months of their lives you would have to drag Kuroo out of their room because his 6’2” ass would get in the crib and sleep with his babies

He DEFINITELY took some time off of work to be there for you and the babies

He always makes corny dad jokes (most likely about science) “Why are chemists excellent for solving problems?” …. “They have all the solutions.”

omg he thinks his jokes are so fucking funny too (his kids learn the hyena laugh 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Whenever you’re away he always sends pictures of what he and the kids are up to.

idgaf abt what you say, that man can COOK

Tendou Satori:

“You can’t tell mom I let you have chocolate before dinner, ‘kay?” He looks into his 9 year old daughter’s eyes waiting for her response.

“It’s our little secret!” She giggles and man is laughing contagious because Tendou starts to laugh too. You were working a little later than usual so Tendou picked up Mayumi even though it wasn’t his day to do so. “What do you want for dinner, May?”

Her eyes widen at the statement. Which tells Tendou a WHOLE lot “Dad’s cooking?!” She asks not because she’s excited but because she’s scared for her life. Tendou may be a chocolatier but this man is not a very good cook unless it’s pasta.

“Nah, we’re gonna stop and get dinner before we go home. Dad’s gotta close shop though, so I thought I’d ask so we can order.”

She hops off the counter and does a cute little dance. I mean.. it’s in her genes. “You’re the best, Dad!”

He shakes his head with a smile, “oh I try!”

SO PROTECTIVE

The second he finds out someone was messing with his baby, he called the teacher and talked things out with her

He is a sucker for spoiling, you often scold him for it but he still does it anyway

He SINGS HIS DAUGHTER TO SLEEP>>>>>

He is the “ouchie” police, his daughter would always giggle but anytime she stubbed her toe on a chair or something he’d start talking to whatever caused his little girl pain and start scolding it (he knows it makes her feel better)

NOT a cook please he will burn the place by accident

Definitely ruined some intimate moments because instead of walking baby girl back to bed he gets dressed and offers to let her cuddle with you guys in the bed (after changing sheets ofc) (he wants his little girl to feel loved)

When she was a baby he’d call you every hour while he was at work to make sure you and the baby are okay

He almost passed out when the school called saying Mayumi broke her leg

He rushed her to the hospital so fast “dw baby, daddy’s here for you.” “I know it hurts princess.”

He went around interrogating the kids in her class thinking one of them pushed her, he was shocked to find out she climbed to the top of the playground and jumped off of it 😭

Definitely got his daughter obsessed with frogs

Miya Atsumu:

“Mama’s gonna kill us! What’s yer last words?” He says in slight shock. His sons start crying thinking that you were actually gonna kill them.

“Not literally boys! Just… this mess- oh jeez.” He looks around bubbles and soap all over the floor.

Atsumu told the twins to ‘be good and color ‘til papa’s done in the shower’ and he came back to this. Dawn dish soap all over the floor and bubbles galore.

The cherry on top had to be that the dog was soaking in mixed berry juice because five year old Kosuke tried to pour himself a cup of juice.

“Alright! C’mon boys, we gotta tidy up before mama gets home!” You would be home in 2 hours…

They cleaned up the bubble mess, after being distracted like 10 times and having a few bubble fights.

Next was giving the twins a bath. Which proved to be harder than it needed to be. Kosuke was mad at Kensuke because he kept showing him his butt. Honestly, Atsumu had to keep himself from laughing.

“That’s enough, Ken. Nobody want to see yer lil butt. Hurry up ‘n wash cuz papa still has to bathe Shoko.” Kensuke’s bad self is splashing water in the tub and it’s getting all over his twin. Kosuke doesn’t like it so he smacks his brother and the latter begins to cry.

“DADDY, K-KO KOSUKE HIT ME, AHHHHHHH.” Atsumu rubs his temple. He all but freezes when he feels a soft hand kneed into his shoulder.

“Seems like you guys had a great time, Shoko’s covered in juice.” He turns his head to look at you.

“it’s not what ya think, hon!” You shake your head at him.

“Ko, don’t hit your brother. When papa is being annoying you don’t see me hitting him, now do you?” He answers honestly, “sometimes you do… you’ll punch papa’s shoulder.”

He got you there lol. “Well that’s more out of love. Apologize to him and you,” you point to your little trouble maker, “don’t provoke your brother, got it?” He nods and goes to rub his eyes. Which is why he started crying for the second time because he got soap in his eyes…

Anyway after their bath and dinner the boys were sent to bed. Shoko was bathed and you and Atsumu were laying in bed.

“I shoulda been watching them..” he admits. You agree. “You live and you learn ‘Tsumu.”

He had no idea what he was doing at first tbh

he can be a bit lazy w the boys sometimes but in the end he pulls it together

The type of dad to make you sit there and say cheese for 500 years while he tries to get the perfect picture

He was mad cuz he thought the twins loved samu more than him

he was sad when they didn’t seem too interested in volleyball “Atsumu, they’re five.” … “Still!”

Impulsively bought a dog cuz his sons wouldn’t stop talking abt having one

In the end he loves his boys very much and would do anything for them

Tsukishima Kei:

“I hate you mom! I really wanted to go!” Your 13 year old daughter slammed her door. She was angry because you didn’t let her go to a dance some kid in her class was hosting. It’s not that she particularly wanted to go, she was just mad that her 17 year old brother got to go out to his friend’s party.

Your husband emerges from his office, he adjusts his glasses and looked at you with curiosity. You sigh hugging him, “Kei.. am I a bad mother?” He squeezes you in the hug, “not in the slightest. We’re doing what’s best for them. What’s got her so upset?”

“She wants to go to this party but I said no because I don’t know any of the parents there. Also, I’m just scared something will happen to her.”

He rubs your back in a comforting way. “I’ll let her go-” you interrupt, “Kei!” He gives you a quick peck to the lips.

“Wasn’t done…” you stayed quiet waiting for him to finish. He clears his throat. “As I was saying… I’ll allow her to go if I chaperone. If she doesn’t like that she won’t go.” He decided and you sigh in relief.

“I’ll go order pizza. Can you talk to her?” He nods, “Supreme.” You roll your eyes at him and smile. “I know what you like dummy.” He playfully flips you off and you laugh in shock at how childish he is even though he’s past his prime years.

He walks over to Hanae’s door and knocks softly. “Go away mom! I don’t like you!” Tsukishima shakes his head. He’s not going to tolerate her disrespecting you, the person who birthed her. He opens the door and she’s on her bed with her headphones on and dried tears on her face.

“Dad…” She already knew what was to come. She knows he doesn’t like when she disrespects you like that. “Don’t say you hate her. She’s your mother, Hanae. It hurts her to hear those words come from your mouth.” She lowers her head and takes her headphones off.

“I didn’t mean it..” her voice is small. Tsukishima handles the situation as he usually would, find the root of the problem (even though he already knew)

“What made you say it?” He sat on her bed and pat a spot next to him basically telling her to come closer. “Um.. I wanted to go to this dance a guy a know is hosting but she said no…” her eyes didn’t meet her father’s.

“Why’d you want to go so bad?” He says bringing her chin up so she looks right into his eyes. He knows she hates it but direct communication is key, even facial expressions can reveal the slightest things.

“W-well. Ugh, why am I crying this is so stupid.” She pauses to wipe her eyes.

“You guys let Akihiko go where ever he wants but I can’t go anywhere! I hate it!” She turns her head away, Tsukki can hear the little sniffles.

“Not true. A lot of stuff that he went to when he was younger, he was chaperoned. We just barely started letting him go out alone so he can get a taste of real life. You can ask him yourself. You’re only thirteen, don’t rush it. Also your mother and I just want to protect you from dangerous situations. Your mom doesn’t know any of the people there which is why she said no.” Tsukki is once again rubbing circles into someone’s back.

“There are so many bad people in the world and we just want to make you a little safer.” She turns back to face him, she scoots closer to her dad so she can hug him.

“I’m sorry.” She says through sniffles. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She nods, “I need a minute.” He strokes her hair as she finishes letting it all out.

“I told your mother you can go if I chaperone you.” He explains after she’s calmed down.

“Dad, you’re gonna embarrass me.” She says with a giggle, tears now drying up.

“Damn right I will. I’ll tell all those hungry little boys that you eat your boogers and you don’t shower for weeks.” He says with a sly grin. She frowns, “dad no!”

He pats her back, “alright kid go apologize if you really mean it.” You and your daughter make up and eat pizza together :3

VERY logical

also super protective

100% the kind of dad who loves his kids but puts his wife first

He’s the bad cop parent while you’re the good cop parent

He loves family cooking night where you guys cook together

he will embarrass both his children in front of their crushes (and thinks it’s the funniest thing ever)

He just seems like the kind of dad to fall asleep and get colored on 😭 they give him a lil mustache and a uni-brow

I feel like he kinda always sides with Hanae for the most part bc he was a little sibling so he knows her pain lmao

he be bragging abt his kids “Akihiko is only six and he’s already reading flawlessly” “Oh, Hanae already did that when she was three”

you wanted to delay the sex talk but like Tsukki was so blunt and just told them 😭

He’s always teasing you “If you don’t be careful Akihiko you might end up with someone as annoying as your mom” you just glare and he snickers

Such a proud dad and has a video of every one of his kids’ firsts

[targaryenluvs]

hiiii okay so I had an idea for like Coryo x little sister where she’s about 12 years old and she looks just like her mom and Coryo, Tigris, and Grandma’am just love her so much BUT she somehow ends up in the hunger games s a tribute and she becomes like besties with Wovey, Reaper, and Lucy- plus she’s giving Coryo a heart attack every five minutes especially during the bombing- finally during his peacekeeper era when he finds out they were evicted she was taken from their custody and so when he comes back with the plinth fortune and all that she just runs up and is all cuddly with him and he’s like “u know what fuck custody paperwork” and just snatches her back home- thank u sooo much💗

SAFE AND SOUND

pairings: coriolanus snow x younger!sister!reader, lucy gray x younger!sister!reader

summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

warnings: murderrr, possessive/selfish thoughts, child endangerment, cheating, rude ass corio, fluff in the end nd a little happy fam, deter from og storyline, protective lucy and snow, family dynamics, theyd do anything to make sure you’re okay

a/n: i did change the story line a little!!

the drones were whirring about you.

people were being knocked down as lucy grabbed you and ran to safety. “keep with me baby girl!” she shouted as you ran, your legs ached but you knew what would happen if you stopped.

coriolanus couldn’t breathe until you were safe. which is why he exhaled a long and heavy breath when you and lucy settled into the vent again. everyone around him was quiet for once, they laughed at all the tributes except you. they all loved you, every time coriolanus brought you around their horrible personalities and stuck up selves melted away with your adoring smile and sweet voice.

reprieve, or so you thought, came in the form of the large tube in front of you. but based off of lucy’s face you knew something was up, and as wovey walked towards it you couldn’t help but shout and cry for her.

“down goes wovey!” thank god. coriolanus thought. that idiotic girl was impulsive and silly, she shouldn’t have lasted as long as she did. she almost killed you with her stupidity, brung you along to her execution as you cried for her to stop.

you’d survived. somehow.

in the history of the games there had only been two victors. so far.

but at what cost? your brother had been sentenced away to district 12 and the only other person who shared any understanding for what you went through was no where to be found. in the wind, gone.

so you did what you thought best.

you ran.

all the way to twelve and the comfort of your dear older brother.

he was going insane. he’d lost you and lucy. sejanus was god knows where and probably planning something illegal. he was stressed the fuck out and all he wanted was a hug from you. for you to put secret braids in his hair when you thought he was sleeping, for you to kiss his cheek every morning before rambling on about school.

the place was alive as she sang. everyone danced but coriolanus stared. he’d found one half of the puzzle. lucy looked amazing and he found himself relaxing at the sound of her voice.

you’d peeked through the window. the noise had drawn you to it. it was your first day alone, ever, and in the worst district. you were scared beyond measure but soon to be saved as you caught a glimpse of lucy twirling on stage, her eye-line drawing you to corio.

the hug from behind caught him off guard but had his mind spinning as he recognised the small hands gripping oh so tightly at his waist. the bracelet he’d made so long ago and the smell of roses, which for once wasn’t himself, and hadn’t been for a while.

“y/n.” he breathed out as you laced your arms around his neck, “i came from the capitol. i hate it corio. they took me away from our family and put me with some random family. i don’t like it, i miss you. please, don’t take me back.” you cried as he lifted you up, resting on his hip as he made his way outside, lucy following in tow as she wiped away tears after seeing your sweet face.

the lake was quiet and tame, slow waves lapping at the jetty and land as you lay curled up in corio’s lap, lulled to sleep by lucy’s melodies. and whilst the trio of you all had no idea what the future held it all didn’t matter in this moment. you felt happy, and you hadn’t felt it in so long. corio and lucy were your family, and you loved them.

corio had done horrible things in his life, the second you were drawn into the games nothing else mattered besides keeping you safe. those horrible things were known to few, one of them being the songbird to your left.

and no would ever tell you these things.

all that mattered?

you were safe and sound with them, they’d made sure of it.

[giddyfatherchris]

I'm in love with you!!

pairing. felix x gn!reader

type. best friends to lovers

warnings. none except pure undiluted fluff

a/n. fricking loved writing this, it made me miss summer so muuuch, but i had the greatest time while listening to these songs on replay😋 highly suggest to have them playing in the background while reading! or just give them a listen cuz they’re amazing hehe hope you enjoy!! xx

song recommendations. calm - cody simpson, im in love with you - the 1975, island in the sun - weezer, heavenly state of mind - lewis capaldi, the view - skz

"I like the view right now!" you chanted as the salty wind ruffled your hair and caressed your skin.

Your eight friends started hooting in agreement, all understanding the reference to one of your favorite songs of theirs.

As a celebration of their highly successful last tour, you had all decided to book a trip to a private island off the coast of Australia. It took a boat ride to reach the secluded piece of land filled with villas and populated with a few staff members. It was a paradisiac hideaway for you all, so accustomed to being surrounded all the time.

You turned back with a gigantic smile. Felix, who was standing behind you, mirrored the expression on your face, a certain twinkle illuminating his gaze.

You jumped in his arms, startling him as he caught you rapidly. "And I love going to the beach!"

He spun you around, feet digging in the sand while you both screamed. The rest of the group looked at you with amused expressions. By now, they had become quite accustomed to your antics. You ended your frivolous spinning by plopping down on the sand, slightly out of breath. You stretched your arms as far as you could, relishing in the stunning warmth of the Australian sun, and turned to cuddle against Felix, his nose already nuzzling in your hair. "I'm so happy to be back home, Lix." "So am I," he answered with a soft smile, his eyes half-closed.

After a day well spent outside, swimming and exploring, you had collectively decided to set up a cozy little camp on the beach to enjoy the warm night under a sky full of stars.

"Are you done, you two? We need help setting up!" shouted Changbin.

"I'm coming, you whiny child!"

You faked irritation with rolled eyes, but ever since you walked off the plane, you couldn't stop your lips from tilting upwards. Your soul seemed to be shouting and dancing to the rhythm of your home. Nothing could you get you down from your little cloud of happiness, even a whiny Changbin. You got up to lend him a hand before he started throwing a tantrum, not noticing Felix's hand still subtly reaching for you.

The young Australian looked at the stunning view. You were right. Being home felt amazing. It was wonderful to have some vacations after being on tour, especially here with you.

You had been friends for as long as he could remember.

From meeting in kindergarten to facing high school's adventures to growing into two young adults. You never had any big fights, your friendship having prevailed over any argument and hardship. Even the distance hadn't been enough to pull you apart.

Felix remembers too well the fear he felt before telling you he wanted to become an idol all those years ago. He was so scared you would disapprove and hate him for wanting to go so far away. But your anger only came from the fact that he had never said a thing about it. He remembers fondly how you jumped on him, hugging him tight with tears lining your eyes. From that moment on, you had been his fiercest supporter. You cried buckets when he left for Korea but made him promise to keep in touch every day. So you video chatted whenever he could. You stayed up with him for entire nights, braving the time difference to give him pointers on choreo stuff or to cheer him up when he had a rough day.

Until you no longer had to do any of that.

Looking at you now, getting along so well with his brothers, made his heart tighten with emotion. At 23 years old, he had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything

Felix knew since he was 14 years old that he loved you. Part of him had hoped that once he was in Korea, his heart would finally stop beating only for you, but it never happened. He had dated a little, but no one had compared to you. With time, he became accustomed to the idea of never falling in love with anyone else.

It was a thought he accepted without so much difficulty. He couldn't help how his heart started speeding up whenever you were close to him. The reassuring feeling of having you by his side. The way your smile made him see stars. The way you cuddled into his side or held his hand, how your gaze lit up whenever you saw the sea, and how he was the one you reached for when you were sad, angry, or just disgustingly happy. He wanted to experience everything with you, every high and every low. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine himself doing life with anyone else. It would be this or nothing else, and he was comfortable with that.

After all these years, he had never found the courage to tell you. The fear of losing you paralyzed him. But as he looked at the joyful sea, breathed the fresh Australian air, and looked at you laughing and fighting fiercely against an uncooperative beach chair, he thought maybe this vacation was the time. The time to face his fears, as he did almost seven years ago to chase his dream, and see where it would lead him.

"Felix!" called Changbin, interrupting his train of thought. "Come and walk with us! We want to see how far the beach goes in that direction."

He lifted his head with a smile, looking at his friends waiting for him, bare feet in the sand.

"Hurry!" you waved. "We don't want to miss the sunset!"

It had been months since he had seen you so excited, so eager. He knew you loved coming with them on tour. But he also knew Australia would always own your heart.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming!"

He swatted the sand away from his shorts before walking to your little group.

You started walking on the beach, Felix close to you. Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin, and Changbin ahead, busy taking pictures in front of the rose-colored sunset. Bang Chan and Lee Know were trying to start your little fire while Han prepared the perfect playlist. Suddenly, you recognized the familiar air of their song, 'The View'. You looked back to Han with a huge smile. He simply winked and gave you a thumbs-up before focusing on his phone once more.

The notes of the music danced around you, making the ambiance even more special. There was something in the air, a prickling, exciting feeling.

You swayed gently to the music as Felix snapped a few pictures. The two oldest near the fire, Han next to the speaker, the boys walking ahead, the sunset. He seemed to be on a mission to commit everything to memory.

You felt his focus shift and noticed he subtly tried taking pictures of you. You walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you taking pictures of me, sir?" "I might be," he smiled back, his dimples on display. "Well, I'm afraid you need permission for that…" you continued, taking a step closer.

Without giving him a second to interpret your movement, you stole his phone with a squeal of victory.

"Come back here!" He protested, but you ran as fast as you could to Changbin, giving him the phone. As you expected, he sprinted in the opposite direction while laughing like a dolphin.

"You think you're funny or something?" asked a slightly out of breath Felix as he reached you.

"In fact, I do."

You splashed him and ran off while giggling like a maniac. As hoped, your antics started a generalized water war. Felix kept running after you, deciding he needed to get vengeance while the other boys splashed each other. You laughed wildly and ran in the shallow waters, not daring to look back and give him a chance to reach you.

You had water up to your knees by the time you heard him whine, "Wait! Y/n! You're gonna get all wet."

You turned around with a taunting look in your eyes. "Felix Lee, has the idol lifestyle gotten to you?" You gave him a pitying look. "Have you forgotten all about your Australian roots? Are you scared of a little water?"

A little taunting was usually all it took for you to rile up your best friend, and tonight would be no different. His eyes scrunched with determination, "Oh, you just wait till I get my hands on you." He tried threatening you, but you didn't give him a chance as you dove into the clear water.

Without a second thought, he jumped in after you, fully clothed. He barely broke the surface when you jumped on him from behind and tried to push him back underwater. He managed to take ahold of your wrists, careful not to clamp too hard. You took a deep breath, ready to be ducked under, but he softly made you twirl in the water. You gave him a surprised look as he winked and let you go benevolently.

Complete elation seized you as the beautiful young man looked at you with that smile of his, hair slicked back from the water, a light illuminating his soft eyes.

"I love Australia! I love the beach! I love being in the water! I love this night!!!" you screamed as you threw your arms in the air.

The other boys looked in your direction with giant smiles, drenched in water. The ever-present professional idol aura in their demeanor was nowhere in sight. They shone with pure happiness. For once, they could be only themselves, away from cameras and personas. Your heart sang with happiness for them.

"I love being home!" screamed Chan. "I love Australian BBQ!" added Changbin. "I love vacations!" said I.N "I love to splash Grandpa Chan!" joked Seungmin. "I love sunsets!" screamed Hyunjin. "I love water wars!" laughed Han. "I love cats!" finished Lee Know.

All eyes turned to Felix, the only one who hadn't said anything yet. His soft gaze set on you, the intensity taking the breath away from your lungs. He rallied his breath and screamed. "I LOVE YOU!"

The boys all went silent. You stared at him in disbelief.

"I love you. I love you so much. I always have, and I always will. Since we were kids, no one has ever meant the same to me. I love being here with you. I love being anywhere around the world with you. I love seeing you smile. I love the way you're so passionate. I- I don't want anyone else." It occurred to Felix that this was maybe not the right way to do this, as he noticed the silence surrounding him, but he kept going. "I know this is probably so out of pocket for you. You probably don't believe this is real, but I assure you it is. Since I was 14, I've been thinking of the right way to say this to you. I never thought it would happen like this but it feels right. So right, to finally tell you while you're at the place you love most and where I can see you shine brighter than ever."

You stared at him before a smile tugged at your lips, and you suddenly screamed. "I LOVE YOU!" He stood there with his arms limp at his side. Your words shocked him, and his mouth opened before he asked, "You love me?"

The light of disbelief shining in his eyes made your heart tighten. "Of course, I love you Lix. Honestly, I'm not sure how you didn't notice it," you added with a sheepish smile.

He took a step towards you, "You love me?" "Yes." Another. "You're sure?" you nodded with a bright smile. He was right in front of you, his arms a millimeter from wrapping around your body. "You love, love me?"

"OF COURSE I LOVE LOVE YOU. ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL." You leaped in his arms, water splashing around.

"SHE LOVES HIM!" Screamed the seven other boys in unison.

You smiled as you put your lips on his, barely registering the ruckus of your friends running for the two of you, throwing water around to celebrate the long-awaited moment you two idiots would realize you had been pinning for each other for years.

[botanicadrabbles]

Hydrangeas'

Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Hanahaki fic. Established relationship, jealousy, self-doubt, relationship anxiety, blood, vomit.

Part 1, Part 2

Word count: 1,241

Hell was never some where people actively wanted to end up; Tales of an eternal afterlife of suffering and punishment, when you first arrived in hell that’s what you expected. Opening your eyes to see a… Some what inviting place, was absolutely not what you had expected.

However that was years ago, now you’re helping Charlie with the hotel, no real want to redeem yourself. Charlie always asks you why and you have to just shrug and not really explain, your relationship with her father was a secret and you didn’t know how she would react to him dating someone else other than her mother.

You always heard from Charlie how amazing their love story is and how deeply in love they where, “I mean he still wears her ring” she would say. You always deluded yourself to think the reason he kept it on was because he still was in love with her. That he still solely cared about her, you felt you had no place to tell him he has to take it off, he was grieving the loss of his wife and you have to respect that.

But when with him, and just him. You never felt any pressure to be something different. Dancing around in his flower garden, his arms resting around your waist, yours hanging loosely around his shoulders.

Music was playing softly in the background, post modern jukebox. He always says how he loves more classical and older styled music compared to the new way music was made, but you where born in the early 2000’s and enjoyed the music you grew up with. So you made a deal (though not a magical one) that we only listen to music covered by them so we both get enjoyment out of music while with eachother.

Stopping for a moment you detached from him to look at the garden, that is why you where invited over after all. To see his flower garden, he stays at the hotel but doesn’t trust any of the staff in the palace to actually look after the garden properly so he comes every day to make sure they’re being well looked after.

Lilies…Lilly of the valley… Royal lilly… Spider lilly… His love for Lillith ran deep and you’re no longer sure to yourself if he loves you as much.

“Y/N.. Are you alright? You’ve been looking at the flowers for awhile” He says, his voice is so sweet to you and you’re starting to hate it, you hate how jealous you’re becoming…How possessive. You want people say how in love he seems with you, you want flowers to be planted and taken care of as well as he does as these for you. You want to be more with him.

Ofcourse though, he doesn’t give you much more time to think as he scoops you into his arms, pulling you into a deep hug, lifting you off of the ground. Looking down was a mistake as you realise how quickly and how far you had gone off of the ground now.

Like any sane person you cling onto him worried about falling, souls where a fragil thing, and that’s all you where. A sinner, a lost soul who wasn’t good enough to get into heaven.

You could feel the two of you turning slowly in the air like a ballerina in a music box, scared still you look up at Lucifer and he has the worlds most loving and dotefull eyes. The moment seemed perfect, you hadn’t had a first kiss yet and thought it was now or never you swear you feel him pulling away but then feel the rain coming down, he laughs a bit and despite being confused you laugh along as he carefully but quickly hurries the both of you inside.

You can’t help but smile and laugh more at your circus leader boyfriend’s soaked hair and clothing making him look a bit like a sewer rat. He smiles too and for the first moment since being there today there was no doubt, no anxiety or second thoughts about your relationship with him.

“I’ll go get a towel for you” He says grinning with his sharp teeth you nod in response, “Okay Luce” you say and wonder the foyer into the overtly large dining room, raising your eyebrow at the grand and glaringly expensive dining room.

Lucifer doesn’t take long too come back puting the towel on your damp head for you to dry yourself off with. He takes a seat on the chair in front of you as he grabs your hands..Which forces you to drop the towel and look at him. “You’re so gorgeous Y/N” he’d tell you, you smile. You can’t help it, he has that effect on you. Something about him naturally makes you fall for him, wanting his praise and approval, some type of weird spell was cast on you the day you met him.

You didn’t even realise when you said it, fucking hell you regretted it the moment it came past your lips. You felt his hands retract from his, watched as his face fell and fear take over his previously peaceful and happy expression.

“I love you” is what you said..Regret is what you felt when he reacted that way, hurt is what you felt when he said “I’m sorry?” as if the complete notion of ever being loved by someone was lost on him. He laughed a bit when you didn’t respond, as if your feelings where a joke and what you had said was some type of childish prank.

Your heart ached, it twisted and turned and you where still, frozen in place as your heart begged your brain to start to allow you to move, run away. You can’t deal with him laughing in your face. It hurt. It wasn’t until the vomit crawled up into your throat that you felt your eyes tearing up. The rain didn’t seem to be a concern anymore as your legs moved.

They moved faster than you thought you could ever possibly do. Your own mind washing out the way he called out for you, the concerned voices of the hotel patrons and guests as you ran past and into your room.

You didn’t realise the breath you where holding, the amount of emotions you had until your legs trembled and gave out in your bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Holding onto the bench you felt the vomit come back up your throat. That horrible feeling of vile burning the back of it until you couldn’t take it anymore and gave in.

As you vomited into the toilet, heaving and gasping for air, feeling as if your lungs where crushing under your ribs. Tears brimming your eyes as you hoped for it to pass.

The metallic taste in your mouth brought you out of the daze, confused you pat your finger tips to the soft skin of your lips.. Blood, there was blood on your lip, looking down at the toilet basin you see some of what you expect, pale vomit.. You didn’t expect to see a mix of blood as well as blue and while hydrangea petals.

You thought to yourself how stupid this was.

This had to be some weird curse, you read about it when you where alive. It was fictional right?

Well…Fiction is always based on some type of truth..

[leclsrc]

reciprocate ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, pwp, very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together. (part 1 here)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… sexual tension like tons, dirty talk, masturbating, descriptions of sex, kissing, SEXUAL TENSION.

hope you like it everyone! :) req’d and i was gonna make this a drabble, but it kinda grew. kind of gives way for a part 3, so lmk if u would wanna read thaaat...?

You’re bored more than several times over the dry, chilly stretch of winter break.

With not much to do, you’ve taken to traveling before you settle back into reporting on what different teams are doing to prepare for March. It’s all car prep, helmet design, new advancements, some drama on budget breaches. But that all comes in the condensed end of February, so now you’re wandering around, aimless.

The invite comes after Christmas and before New Year’s. It’s also last minute, and you would’ve normally rejected it, but Lissie had managed to convince you despite yourself, so you text Daniel a thumbs-up, greenlighting his proposition to jet off to Monaco.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve just said no,” you mutter, dumping a bundle of clothes into your suitcase. Across you, equally busy, Lissie scoffs. 

She looks up from where she’s busy folding something, then, “In what universe would anybody want to pass up on a free Monaco trip where we can spend the entire week drinking our body weight in cocktails and swimming it off?”

You laugh, nodding in semi-agreement. It’s not Monaco, you want to tell her. It’s because everybody’s going, even Max. “You’re right,” you say instead, making a show of being excited. 

It didn’t seem the slighest bit sane to be going on a non-work trip where Max was going to be around. Your first tryst, barely a month ago, before the grand prix in Abu Dhabi, had given way to three days straight of retiring to his room, foregoing afterparties, and then, after deciding to go to one, sneaking back off and fucking in his room after just an hour of dancing.

Max is just as insatiable as you are, and it scares you—because it took every ounce of resistance from you to sit him down and affirm the statement that the constant sex was a bad idea. Outside of his room, outside his bed, you two still maintained the same caustic relationship, but the sex became like clockwork, and you could tell it wasn’t the best idea.

“We need to stop the sex,” you’d said, setting it down firmly. “It’s—it’s getting in the way of work.” 

“It really isn’t. You still have no problem calling me out after races and then getting fucked less than an hour later,” he said.

“I’m serious, it is. And if not now, it will.”

He’d shrugged. “Fine.”

“It’ll be easy,” you’d said sharply. “For me, at least.”

It feels like cosmic karma, then, when you’re told by Lissie that Max’s room is beside yours.

—

Almost funnily, Max’s is the first face you see after you’ve settled in your hotel room. You see him first, and then notice he’s joined by Daniel and Lando, at the bar near the beach where everyone else in your little group is hanging out. You make eye contact that you tear away from instantly, willing yourself to ignore him.

Daniel notices you first when you show up to order yourself a drink. “Swam yet?”

“Nope,” you say. “Think I’ll join the girls and tan today.”

“Just glad you finally accepted the invite,” Daniel comments. “Lissie told me you almost bailed for some weird reason.”

Your eyes dart over to Max, who’s drinking whiskey. He’s already looking at you, gaze cutting. You clear your throat and look away. “I thought it wouldn’t be the best idea, but I’m about three drinks away from loving it here.”

The small talk continues, and you even get your drink, but eventually Daniel and Lando are too enticed by the sunset water, running off and yanking their shirts off on the way. You shuffle nervously on the barstool, just two seats apart from Max.

“You’re here the whole week?” He asks, not looking at you. 

“I am,” you say, leveling his tone of nonchalance.

He makes a noise of petty disapproval, leaning back. From where you sit, you get fleeting glimpses of how he looks, and it isn’t helping your vow of celibacy. He’s big, which, while you knew this, still sends a throb of arousal through you. The tight tee he wears does nothing to hide what’s underneath, and his arms give you the impression that he could just throw you onto a bed or slam you against a wall like it’s nothing.

(Two things you could personally attest to, but that’s besides the point.) You’ve only just begun to get used to not having sex with him, but you’re starting to think you should get on the next flight off, because the thoughts creeping into your head of his hands, his tongue—

A cry of your name grabs your attention, and you blink, turning your head. Farther up the beach, Lissie and Lily are waving their hands around, calling you. “Let’s swim!” Lissie orders. “Now!”

“Bit busy there, were you?” Max asks, smirking. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, downing the rest of your cocktail and jogging over to your friends. Absently, you hear him chirp another teasing remark behind you—hope you drown. The abrasive remark lets the remainder of your scandalous thoughts filter out for the time being. You’re positive, though, that they won’t be gone for the whole two weeks.

You stop in front of Lissie to undo the clip in your hair when Lily asks nonchalantly: “Why’s Max staring at your ass?”

“Lil, oh m—” You swat her playfully. “Don’t just say things like that!”

“Sorry! Jesus. It was a serious inquiry. Guy’s eyes are glued. Don’t you hate each other?”

You resist the urge to turn around and maybe get in a dig of your own, but clear your throat and shrug. “You’re hallucinating. I’m sure he’ll have some random girl in his hotel room later tonight, anyway.”

You don’t miss the way Lily’s face is still etched with lack of conviction, but you tug her toward the beach anyway, splashing around and playing frisbee with the Daniel, Charles, and Lando. At some point, talk of clubbing arises through the six of you, and at Lando’s insistence, you all agree to meet up somewhere to get hammered later. A warm Monegasque welcome, Charles had dubbed it. 

A sluice of nerves slide across you when you hear Charles relay the idea to Max, and the latter reply with a fuck yes count me in. 

You learn a few short hours later that Monaco lives up to its predestined reputation as a nightlife beast, greeting you with vigor and sophistication. You’d been here before, but mostly for work—the immense drinking, dancing, and occasional drug is still a novel experience. Evidently, though, the drivers have little trouble settling into it, accepting and ordering shots and extravagant bottles like they’re nothing.

You’re off work, you figure, and you have no concrete responsibilites tied you as of the moment, so why not join in? 

Lissie is drunkenly slurring something into your ear, about how some guy is flirting with her but he’s a 6 at best and maybe I should just make out with him to make him feel better hey wait maybe he’s an 8 actually no 9, maybe 9.5 max—no he’s a 10 I’m fucking him bye, and Lily is pissed, likely being taken care of by Alex.

Charles had upheld a promise to remain sober, but said nothing of bringing a girl home, which he’d successfully pulled off just twenty minutes ago. Lando’s obviously busy spinning the tunes at the DJ booth behind you, howling with excitement every time he plays something he likes. Which, you realize, leaves you with Daniel.

You fix the hem of your tiny dress, throwing back another shot. Your tolerance doesn’t allow for alcohol to permeate fast; it goes slowly, and never results in too much of a headache, thank the Lord. You’re pleasantly buzzed, but you want more courage, more gravitas. A timely wish, considering you haven’t quite learned how much of a party monster Daniel is.

He leans in closer. “I bet you three shots of vodka you’re not kissing someone tonight.”

“I’ll take the opposing side,” you say, laughing. “Nobody here is doing it for me.”

“A gentleman’s agreement!” He hollers, waving a passing waiter over and ordering shots for people to share.

Although you’re in a roped off area of the club, there are still people walking around and crowding the area, including a girl who’s seated on Daniel’s lap. She whispers something mumbled and low into his ear, and you roll your eyes at his equally flirty response, pinching her thigh and kissing her neck. 

He turns back to you after, like it’s a casual conversation. “How can nobody ‘do it for you’ in a Monaco nightclub, man?”

There’s a question you can answer, but woefully won’t. You change the subject instead, cupping two shots. “How about you and I just do three shots each?”

“Make it four,” he says challengingly. “And take a hit.”

“Already did, Danny,” you refute. You’d smoked half a joint before drinking anything, not wanting to get too caught up in the crossfade. You’re half sure somebody in the group took molly, but your mouth is zipped all the same. “Come on, four shots.”

“Up, up,” he pauses, thinking. “Two shots of Patron vodka—and two of Clase Azul.”

Agreeing, you search for the liquor on the lit-up table, throwing the vodka back with relative ease and then standing up to do the last two. You stumble when you place the glasses back on the table, shaking hands with Daniel and moving about to shake off the alcoholic taste in your mouth.

You pass by Lando, and he flips you off from his place at the DJ booth, but eventually you meander your way to the bar instead, wedging yourself into an empty alcove that only houses a storage room door. It’s quieter, and here you can start to feel the alcohol in your system. You lean back against the wall, and just as you wished, a guy eventually approaches you.

He’s cute(ish), tall(ish), and charming(ish), and even in your hazy mind he registers as passable and definitely way too drunk and overconfident to be approaching somebody as hot as you. His arm wraps around you, toys with the flimsy strap of the minidress you’d worn today. His accent is clearly touristy and American when he asks, “What, bored tonight?”

“Little bit,” you say lowly, leaning back and letting your lips curl up into a smile. “Nothing is really exciting.”

He hums drunkenly. “I could be exciting. Show you something exciting.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say, playing into him. “Tell me more.”

“I could tell you lots of things in my hotel room.” He smiles. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“She’s had plenty, mate,” a voice unmistakably Dutch says, and pride wells up in you for having had your plan succeed so beautifully. You blink, reaching an arm out to gently push the guy out of the way—and meet eyes with the one behind him. Taller, broader, and evidently more sober than either of you, Max looks pissed (more than usual, at least.) “Piss off.”

“Christ, had I known she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t’ve approached, man. Let’s all be calm.”

Max waves him off dismissively and approaches you, a glint of concern shadowing the irritance in his eyes. “This some kind of plan of yours?”

The alcohol has begun to rush through you. You’re hot, flushed all over, thinking of all the times you’d been in this position, purposely testing Max’s limits so he could test yours, albeit differently.  

“Dunno what you mean,” you say. Your gaze slips downward, to the big, rough hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey. You want them on you. Then they meet his again.

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “You’re having a lot of fun prancing around like you’ve no responsibilities.”

“Lighten up,” you insist boredly. “It’s called a vacation. It’s for letting loose.”

“Are you letting loose enough?” He asks, suggestive.

“Max.” You lean forward, and the movement lets him see more of your chest, or what your dress allows. He coughs. 

“No.” But despite himself, he’s leaning downward, too, his gaze stuck on your lips. “You told me yourself. It gets in the way of work.”

“This isn’t work,” you say, nerves hammering through you.

“Been looking after you all night, it might as well be.” His voice is cold and serious. He steps forward, effectively caging you against the wall with how bulky his frame is. “You need to be careful. I had to pry that asshole off of you.”

“What if…” You trail off, tilting your head back so you’re making searing, unbreaking eye contact. “That’s exactly what I wanted?”

You’re both frozen in place, staring up at him with the kind of coy you only get when you’re tipsy like this. Wide eyed, lip bitten, and dress riding up—this is exactly how Max likes you. Ready for him to wreck. One jerk of his knee in between your legs and you’re his. He considers other options: a light grip around your neck, or even just a hand on your waist would render you weak, too.

“You test me too much, Y/L/N.” You feel hazy from the way he says your name, in the way he always does—formal, professional, like you’re in the paddock interviewing him again. You can feel yourself growing wet. 

But you’d gotten yourself into this mess. You wore this dress, took those shots, let that guy flirt with you in hopes that Max would come over and give you his time of day. Deny as you might, you know deep down this is exactly what you were waiting for. You press a palm to his stomach, feeling the hard surface there, fisting it in his shirt. 

He grunts, lets his hand cover yours. “Schatz,” he says, guttural.

He lets your lips meet, but when you lean in for a proper kiss, he stands back up to his full height. One look in your eyes lets him realize you’re sufficiently sober, and he turns and walks away.

—

A volleyball hits your shoulder for the third time today.

Prior to that, it’d hit your forehead twice, putting an effective end to your beach volleyball winning streak. Beside you, Lando lets out a strangled cry of defeat.

“The volleyball legend is tapping out!” Daniel hoots from a nearby lawn chair, mimicking the racing commentators you’re all familiar with. 

“Piss off,” you say. “I’m off my game, too tired.”

You wave a dismissive hand to Lily and Alex and they flash thumbs up signs. You squeeze a bottle of water into your mouth, needing release from the thoughts plaguing your mind. The events of two nights ago weigh terribly heavy, annoyingly so, on your mind. 

Not Max himself, you argue. His voice. His touch. They’re so irresistible to you. The way he’d grunted out the pet name he reserved for sex, the way his hand was so much rougher, bigger than yours.

Absently, you wonder, if he hadn’t stopped it—what would’ve happened then? He must’ve been resisting his strongest demons to put an end to the flirting like that. Any other time, you think, it would’ve gone differently.

He’d crowd you against the wall, press hot, whiskey-flavored kisses to your neck. He’d drop his glass, uncaring if it shattered; he could pay for fifty of those and then some. You picture his big hands roughly feeling you up, pressing against your panties, asking if you wore them just for him. Mumbling about wanting to taste you, get on his knees and have your pussy right here, for his tongue only. You picture his fingers, nimble, yanking away the lace and pushing into your cunt, kissing your jaw, moving, moving, until you’re fully in an open-mouthed kiss, messy and dirty, just how he likes you. He’d say something mean. Do you enjoy being a slut, letting all these people watch me take care of you? You’d nod. It’s true, you do, humping his fingers and chasing release. You picture his dick, hard and thick, big like the rest of him, pressed against your bare thigh, and—

“Your gelato!” Lissie hollers crankily, waving a cone of coffee ice cream in front of you that’s begun to melt and stick to her fingers.

“Thinking of sum’in, mate?” Lando’s amused, sunglasses-clad face comes into view.

You flip him off and apologize to Lissie, attempting to enjoy your ice cream before you descend into a state of craziness. The beach day passes with additional moments of blank stares, though none to a worrying degree. Most of your friends chalk it up to you waking up late or spacing out thinking of work, thankfully. 

But, at least, you think. At least this just proves that you and Max can stick to your vow of celibacy. Right?

—

Max is never usually one to eavesdrop, but when he learned from Lily earlier in the week that your room was adjacent to his, he couldn’t help but become more conscious of it. Two days of silence, the occasional TV noise, and some stumbling provide nothing, so he’s since stopped paying attention. Between you two, you’re the one always out on the shore anyway, so there’s nothing much for him to listen to.

Tonight is different.

You don’t usually make noise—and he’s generally speaking here. You’re not a loud person. Even with the aid of a mic, your voice is composed, on the edge of quiet, during paddock reports. So why can he hear you so clearly now? The walls are a bit thin, sure, but something else contributes to it.

Something else, like maybe you’re doing all this on purpose.

The shuffling on the other side of the wall grows louder, then he hears your faint, breathy whimpers. He pauses, sitting a bit more upright on his bed, curiosity piqued, anticipates something else. Your whimpers grow louder, passing through the walls with relative ease. 

He could totally tune this out, maybe put on a movie, hell, leave the room for a late night walk or a drink somewhere.

But he’s rooted to his spot, listening intently, wanting to hear more of you. He hears it then, so breathy at first he almost doesn’t. Max.

Your moan. He blinks, feeling himself grow hard. Maybe he didn’t hear it right, but then he hears it again: Oh, Max. Please. Wanna, wanna— 

He palms at his dick through his sweats, swearing under his breath. You sound exactly like you do when you’re underneath him, two lithe hands wrapped around his wrist, begging for release, for his tongue, for his fingers. You’d been so sure, so high and mighty when you sat him down and demanded the sex stop, but here you are fucking yourself on your fingers, moaning his name.

Barely even ashamed, he tugs his dick out, already drooling with precum. He uses it to ease the glide of jerking off. Max, you say again, louder this time, higher. He remembers your conversation clearly, your solemn voice when you told him you couldn’t ever have sex again with the way it interfered with your jobs. The way you slid in a snide remark about how it’d be an easy challenge for you.

He can’t help but be amused, fucking his fist and listening to your moans, growing in volume as you near your climax. He wants to ask if your fingers are as good as his, as his tongue, his cock. He knows you’ll say yes but think the opposite. You’ve always grown so weak around him.

Gonna cum, he hears again. 

He pictures you writhing on your bed, eyes rolling back, fist half-bitten to try and silence yourself. Your thighs are probably shaking, brows knitted together, tongue lolling out—he jerks himself faster, panting, chest sweaty. It’s your last, loud moans that send him over the edge. 

I’m cumming, Maxie, fuck—! He swears under his breath, cum spurting out all over his fist. He catches his breath, pursing his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Tries to purge himself of his thoughts of how you might look right now and retreats into his bathroom.

It doesn’t work.

—

Lando personal phone 30s ago

Lissie wants her own bacardi and could you get doritos too x

And a box of condoms pls mate xx

“One more Bacardi and a bag of Doritos,” you dictate boredly. Who knew a high profile, all expenses paid vacation in one of the richest countries in the world would still entail the mandatory grocery run? “…And condoms.”

Max turns from where he’d retrieved the rum, a brow raised in question. “Sorry?”

“Lando, not me,” you defend, holding two hands up. You two had been the unlucky pair who drew short straws and were thus stuck with a long list of niche items in an empty convenience store not far from your hotel. Outside, the sun’s already gone, leaving behind traces of orange in an otherwise dark sky. The group had decided to stay nearby and drink instead of going out tonight, since you’d all been at a club basically every other night anyway.

You review each of your baskets. “Seems like this is all,” you conclude, “except the condoms, which we’ll get at the counter.”

“Did Lando specify a… brand?” Max asks, pacing to the cashier. There are already some on display, with varying features and sizes. 

You recheck your phone. “Nope. Just get anything.”

“Alright, then.” Max picks up an XXL condom box and waves it around. “For Little Lando.”

Irritated, you roll your eyes. “Be reasonable, Max.”

“You said get anything!”

“You’re so annoying,” you fume. You catch sight of the cashier looking uncomfortable with the tension between you and Max and figure the situation needs to deescalate. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, just get something reasonable. Put that back.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘reasonable,’” he says teasingly, clearly trying to push your buttons.

“Just get a standard condom box.”

“What is a standard co—”

“Get the ones you normally use,” you say, realizing the words after they leave your mouth.

The cashier coughs.

Shrugging, Max grabs the familiar box off the shelf and tosses it, emptying both your baskets right after. His face is amused when he turns and you see him again, but you’re both wordless while the payment goes through and you exit together. The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, stuffy, and tense, your arms crossed over your chest and Max’s occupied with both of the plastic bags.

“I’m surprised you remember what condoms I use.” He says with a smug smile when you’re both in the elevator. He’s parked his car on the basement floor, so you need to get to the lobby. You watch the lights signify what floor you’re on, waiting desperately for the ground floor button to glow yellow.

Still annoyed, you humor him despite yourself. “Why’s that?”

It dings yellow right as he responds. “You’re always begging for me to cum inside you, anyway.” 

The doors open but neither of you move. Max watches you grow flustered and take a deep breath. “You’re a sicko,” you declare, walking out. He follows you with a laugh, knowing he’s right.

You meet the group outside the lobby, where they’re already piling onto a yacht, big enough for everyone. It’s ridiculously huge and expensive-looking, bobbing softly by the dark water. Charles emerges from the upper tier and waves to you and Max with a goofy grin.  

After you help spread and deposit the groceries on the table, you walk around, finally detaching yourself from Max’s side. Eventually drinks ebb around the group, shots and crude cocktails that are fed to you like water. Buzzed with warmth and courage, you move to the back of the boat where there’s a ladder to swim, grunting when you find Max already there.

You clench your cocktail. “What’re you doing?”

“Preparing to swim, what’s it look like?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

You down the rest of your drink, leaning against the side of the boat and watching as he sheds his shirt and jumps into the ocean. Some of the water splashes onto you, and it’s cold, sending goosebumps throughout your body. He surfaces, hair darkened from being wet and smile dopey. A few strands of hair stick up. 

“Wanna join?”

“Over my dead body,” you say, taking a seat and dripping your legs instead. 

“The water’s nice.”

“It’s frigid,” you counter. “You should be wearing a snowsuit, dumbass.”

“How mean,” he says, diving underneath and surfacing again. “You’re too chicken, is all.”

Emboldened, by the buzz of alcohol maybe, the music, or—most likely of all—Max’s teasing, you nod. “Chicken?”

You get up, legs dripping, and pull your shorts down, tugging your tiny tank top off right after. You’re left in your bathing suit, and watch as Max’s eyes lock onto your tits, spilling out of your bikini top. His gaze is slow on you, like it’s his first time seeing you like this.

You step onto the cool ladder to avoid jumping, your back turned to Max’s as you feel more and more of your body submerge into the freezing water. You turn, taking a seat on one of the rungs. Max swims toward you, wiping a hand over his face. 

“Not a chicken. But I’m not going any lower,” you say firmly, in the water from the waist down. “It’s too cold.” 

“I’m fine having you like this,” he says lowly, his voice thick with desire. He cages you in, two big hands on either side of the ladder. For leverage, your legs wrap around him. You’re so close together. After days, weeks, of resisting.

You release a shaky breath, staring at him, his shoulders, his hands.

“How’s your vacation been?” He asks, lips near your ear.

“Fine,” you say. “Fun.”

“Bring anyone to your room?” You shake your head; he persists. “So you’ve had no luck there, then?” 

“None at all,” you say blatantly.

“S’that why you’ve been…” A hand leaves the ladder to squeeze your thigh. “Moaning my name while fucking yourself?”

Your eyes widen, blinking, undeniably caught. You open your mouth to formulate a defense but you can’t. “What are you talking about?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, schatz. You were the one who kept insisting we swear off sex, but I think you’re starting to miss me.”

He presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms, rubbing softly. It’s enough to let you whimper. “Max—”

“You keep prancing around in tiny bikinis, skirts, tops. Is it on purpose, hmm? I can’t stop thinking about claiming you. On my bed, my balcony, over any surface.”

He quickens his fingers, and you whine. It feels so good, reminiscent of how wicked he is in bed. You picture it—being bent over the side of the boat, his hands big on your waist, cock sliding in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, Max,” you breathe.

“Does it?” He asks, egging you on. You nod, gripping his wrist—your hand’s still circled around it when he yanks it away.

“But remember what you told me? Before the break?”

“I—fuck,” you mutter, frustrated. “Please.”

“They were your words, not mine, schatz,” he says, easygoing as he dives back underwater, leaving you alone and sexually frustrated. You curse lowly. It’s going to be a long rest-of-the-week.

[norrisleclercf1]

You Are My Sunshine

Pairing: Dad/Husband!Lando x Reader

Warnings: Slightly mentions of smut, pregnancy, fluff, dad!lando (yes that needs a warning that man would kill me being a father), just overall tooth rotting fluff

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: Lando comes home after a race and has memories of your life leading up to this moment of him coming home to you and baby Carlie

A/N: I’m in a dad and fluff moment this week so be prepared for soft dad!F1 and fluffy writings

It wasn't every day that Lando could come home to you and the baby. But he was able to find a way to do just that and surprise you both. Lando hated being away from home more than ever now; when he was younger, he could've cared less, but then he met you.

At first, you both were just casual; everyone kept telling him to make it official before someone else came along and swept you away. Lando just laughed and shook it off, not wanting to face the truth of genuinely wanting to be his, fuck, he even wanted to marry and have a family with you.

Lando finally told you after his wreck in Miami, where he came back furious at how close he was to finishing, only to knock tires with Pierre and have to DNF. He didn't even know you were at the race until he walked into the garage and a body collided with his.

The familiar scent of your body wash soothed his anger and beating heart as he didn't care for the shuttering of the cameras catching the tender moment between the two.

"You're here?" He whispers in the crevice of your neck while you smile and kiss his temple.

"I'm so proud of you, Lan." It was simple words, but to him, it meant everything, knowing that even when he didn't finish the race or do fantastic, you still rooted for him no matter what.

After Miami, everyone knew that you two were official as Lando refused to let you out of his sight, and how he would defend you like crazy, hell he even shoved a fan once when they got far too close to you and tried to touch you.

Lando slowly pushed his front door open, trying hard not to wake anyone in the house since it was barely 3 in the morning. He smiled at the Monte Carlo skyline that dusted the tall wall-to-floor windows, having missed this view so much.

He remembers the first time he bought the place and showed it to you. He still gets worked up thinking about how he fucked you against the windows, finally telling each other that you loved one another.

It was another 2 years when he proposed to you. It could have been fancier. Hell, he didn't even have a ring when he proposed. Lando arrived home from a triple-header, exhausted and wanting nothing but to sleep. Instead, he was welcomed to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and underwear, cooking his favorite meal.

"Will you marry me?" He blurted it out, scaring the shit out of you, making you jump and almost drop the plates.

"What?" You laugh, not believing your ears.

He walks over, gently takes the plates from your hands, and sets them down, turning back to you.

"Marry me. Will you marry me?" He repeats, fingers dancing on your waist and pulling you into him.

"Yes." You didn't think twice about answering him. You loved Lando nothing more in your life could take that away. He busts out that dazzling smile while he pulls you in for that warm heart-stopping kiss.

Of course, dinner was cold after he was finished with you, but he could've cared less about that.

Putting down his luggage, he steps out of his shoes and heads down the hall stopping at the first door and noticing it's cracked open. This wasn't normal for you or him to leave this door open to the nursery. With a gentle nudge, he opens the door and sees that your baby isn't in the crib. He feels that all too well-known panic clutch his heart but stops when he looks down the hall to see you asleep in your bed.

He sees a more petite body next to you and exhales that panic as tip-toes down the hall and leans against the door watching the both of you.

"You should tell him you're pregnant, Y/n." Daniel and Max argue as you fuss with your outfits, trying to plan what to wear, not to show off your bump.

"I can't, he's too stressed, and I don't want to make it worse with a baby. What if he isn't ready? What if he feels pressured to give up F1? What if he hates me for us having a baby so soon after we've been married?" You ramble off, your hormones and emotions taking over.

"Woah, okay, that was.....something. But, Y/n, you know damn well known of that is true." Max reassures you while Daniel nods, helping you pick out your clothes.

"Real question is, how does he not know with that small bump of yours?" Daniela asks to lay down an oversized Mclaren shirt and loose jeans so they won't hug your stomach.

"He's been super busy, and I've been wearing large clothing recently, so he hasn't questioned it." You shrug, walking into the hotel bathroom to change.

"Tell him, love, he deserves to know. Besides, all he has been talking about at the paddock is babies since Carlos and Pierre recently brought theirs to the races." Daniel shoots, making you groan and storm out of the bathroom.

"I'm scared." You mumble, shoving your feet into your tennis shoes.

"Listen, we would love to help you, but this is a conversation to have with Lando himself. Just tell him okay." Max whispers, kissing the top of your head and leaving Daniel not far behind him.

Never would you have thought you'd tell him you were pregnant while he celebrated his first P1 finish. People swarmed you both, screaming and spraying champagne when you yelled those two words to him.

Lando's smile grows to the point it hurts when he pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply, but he soon makes sure to get you out of the crazy crowd.

Lando loves the picture in the living room; it was taken at the P1 finish when you told him you were pregnant. He moves closer and smiles at how your body is curved slightly around his whole world, his sunshine.

The little girl you had given birth to stole Lando's heart at that moment. Lando's wallpaper was a picture Daniel took of him holding your little girl while tears fell down his cheeks. Lando slowly slides his pants and shirt off and climbs into bed.

With careful movements, he pulls you both into his arms, making your tense body relax into your husband's arms. But his daughter Carlie named after Carlos, stirs awake and starts that heartbreaking whimper.

"Shhh sunshine, it's okay, it's just your daddy," Lando whispers, kissing her chubby cheeks as those gorgeous eyes glisten with tears.

He loved her eyes, she got them from you and swore it makes him want to have another one now, but he knows it's best to wait a year or two before another.

Carlie keeps up the soft whimpers while Lando ponders how to stop it before you wake. Hating it, he picks up Carlie, gently gets out of bed, and heads to the living room.

He starts to rock while he stands in front of the windows overlooking the city and starts to sing a lullaby.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away." He whispers the words softly, Carlie looking up at her daddy, having heard his voice. Lando smiles at her, feeling his world stop at this moment.

"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

And I hung my head and cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

Lando first sang this silly little lullaby when you were 6 months pregnant, and the baby kept kicking you; it was the Baku race, hot and miserable, and you just wanted to cry.

Lando remembers looking up and seeing the overwhelming look on your face and the way you pushed on the area where the baby was kicking. He stopped talking to the mechanics and walked over and pulled you close by your chair.

"Shhhh, it's okay. Take a deep breath." He mumbles while grabbing a cold water bottle; he replaces your hand with his own and tries to calm you down.

He couldn't help but start to hum the lullaby and soon began to sing the words that only the two of you could hear, but the baby soon began to settle as he kept singing. You stare at your husband as he smiles at your stomach and helps you calm down from the panic and emotions that grapple you.

"I love you." You whisper as he finishes singing and looks up at you; a tender emotion covers him as he kisses you gently on the lips and then your stomach.

"I love you both so much, My world and my sunshine." He kisses you one last time before he heads back to the car.

"I'll always love you and make you happy

If you will only say the same

But if you leave me to love another

You'll regret it all some day

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

He soon starts to hum the rest when Carlie has her eyes closed and nestled into Lando's chest, her soft breaths hitting his skin. He smiles and leans down, pressing a kiss to her head.

"Hey." You whisper, startling him, making you giggle at the tired shocked look he gets as he relaxes again. "Sorry, did I wake you?" You shake your head no and walk over to Lando, wrapping his arm around you as he pulls you into him.

"No, I woke when you first came into the apartment." You smile at your baby girl snuggled tight against her father.

"Damn, and here I thought I was quiet." He curses, making you smile, but you don't reply as you just turn and hide your face in his neck, enjoying your husband's warmth.

"I'm glad you are home." You whisper after a few minutes of silence. "Me too, baby. Me too." He smiles into your hair, wishing he could save this moment forever.

[teyvat-inks]

like you

sia: hello again :3 lol i hope i didn't anger anyone with that angst. i've been under aventurine brainrot since january and can't help but fawn over the penacony trailer of him dancing with caelus and you can guess why i wrote this. also, this is inspired by never be like you by flume ft. kai. (i’d like to congratulate myself for writing a whole ass fic again)

content: college au. gn!reader x dance major!aventurine. dancae. mutual pining and jealousy. fluff with a tinge of angst if you squint. 3,017 words.

The Department of Dance holds an annual dance recital, showcasing the talents of their students every year as well as a way of promoting the department itself, a tradition that hasn’t been broken ever since. This academic year, they decided to rank the students according to their performance, thus spicing up things. The students feel thrilled to finally have the rankings announced on this very day and chatters fill the hallway as they wait for the chairwoman to pull down the curtain off the large bulletin board. 

“A pleasant morning to every one of you, dear students. I’d like to congratulate each of you for successfully surviving the academic year,” The chairwoman smiles at the students, her gaze scanning the crowd to admire the anticipation written across their faces, “Ah, the look on your faces makes me feel more excited to finally reveal the exceptional students who took over this school year’s challenges.”

“Ready?” The chairwoman asks and the crowd cheers, she nods at them, pulling down the curtains to unveil the names on the bulletin board. She then walks over to Caelus, causing the students to erupt into a yell, “Congratulations, Caelus, you’ve done your very best and emerged as the top student this year.” The chairwoman offers him a handshake, handing him a certificate. 

Aventurine snickers beside you and whispers into your ear playfully, his breath lightly tickling your ear and sending a shiver down your spine, “Looks like I’ve won our bet. Told ‘ya he’ll dominate the rankings.”

The screams of the crowd break you out of your thoughts and you see the chairwoman heading towards you and Aventurine’s spot. “Is she walking towards us?” You turn your head to take a glance behind you and see no one. Aventurine simply chuckles as the chairwoman stops in front of you, “This is quite a surprise.”

“Congratulations to you too, for placing second this year.” The chairwoman extends her hand to you, which you dumbfoundedly take as she hands you your hard-earned certificate.

“Thank you, Madam!” You give her the widest smile you have and bow. The crowd cheers once more as the chairwoman returns to her spot at the front.

The chairwoman clears her throat to get everyone’s attention, “With that, I’d like to formally announce the dance recital we’ll be holding next month.” You hold your breath, waiting for her to continue with the announcement, “Aside from the group performances, the top two outstanding students this year shall be responsible for the closing act together. Thus, they won’t be participating in any other performances. They will focus solely on creating a dance routine together without the help of others.”

The announcement elicits various reactions from the students, some gasp in surprise, some squeal in excitement, and some frown as their hopes of participating in the closing act get crushed. “Just like every other year, you are given the authority to choose the songs. Those are all for the announcements. I wish you all a pleasant day ahead!” She smiles then points at you and Caelus, “The two of you, come with me.” 

The crowd whistles but all Aventurine hears is the loud thumping of his heartbeat. He feels something well up inside him, an unpleasant feeling that makes him scared and anxious. “Can you wait for me?” Aventurine hears your voice, breaking him out of his stupor.

“Definitely.” He nods, smiling as you follow the department chair into her office. He sees the silver-haired man shake your hand as he congratulates you for your hard work. He rolls his eyes at the sight.

Soon enough, the noise in the hallway immediately drowns from the sound of your mellifluous laughter. He raises his head from his phone and sees you walking with the silver hair. His eyes unconsciously roll again at the sight before him. Caelus catches the annoyed look on his face and widens his smile at you moreso, speaking loud enough for the blonde to overhear. “It seems that your friend has been waiting quite a long time.”  

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ makes him sick in the stomach.

You simply chuckle in response, “Aventurine! Were you bored?” You jog up to him with Caelus trailing behind. “You see, the chairwoman is looking forward to this year’s annual grand recital. I guess we’ll be heading home together less often in preparations.” A frown makes its way to your face, feeling slightly disappointed about the reduced time with him, “Did you make up your mind on which genre you’ll participate in?”

“I haven’t. No need to worry about it though.” He smiles at you. Caelus notices the fond look in the blonde’s eyes and decides to push his buttons more.

“I hope you don’t mind them spending most of their time with me the following weeks.” The silver hair smirks at him with a glint of mischief present in his gaze. The tone of his voice makes him feel humiliated for some unknown reason and he bites back the snarky remark he wants to say.

“But of course, I know the two of you will do absolutely well.” He gives him a tight-lipped smile as he grabs your arm, dragging you to his side. “If you’ll excuse us. We already made plans today.” 

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Weeks pass and Aventurine feels slightly lonely—terribly lonely without you since you barely see each other due to your busy schedules. With the recital being just around the corner, the only times you get to be together are during stage rehearsals with everyone and the texts gradually become less frequent. Aventurine would have been fine if it was merely a summer break, but no. It has to be you spending most of your days with another man. He couldn’t say he’s miserable without you, nor be upset at you for not texting him back. He’s worried about your health too, do you not think of how distressed he might be upon the thought of you pushing yourself too hard?

Aventurine thinks he’s selfish for wanting your time all for himself, how can he keep you away from the world, not when you’re born to be on stage? And so, wanting your eyes to be focused on him only is simply wishful thinking. He can only hope for the best as you take over the stage with your charisma and talent. 

He feels stupid. He feels stupid whenever he feels jealous as he thinks of how other people will surely fall for your charms on stage. Sleepless nights become more recurring as anxiety gnaws his flesh, trembling to himself as his insecurities get the best of him but he does not tell you. Aventurine notices the distance growing between the two of you, or is it simply all in his mind?

A loser, that’s what he thinks of himself. 

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The sound of chimes echo inside the hall as the song plays and the crowd screams.

What I would do to take away this fear of being loved, 

Allegiance to the pain.

“I can feel your man burning holes in my back from the sidelines,” Caelus whispers as he twirls you to face him, smirking after seeing the annoyed look in your eyes.

“Stop distracting me.” You retort back with a straight face and continue with the next figure.

Now I’m fucked up and I’m missing you.

Aventurine does not miss the exchange between you and the silver-haired male; The way Caelus smirked as you turned your back on the audience and the way you lightly pinched him on his side made his skin crawl. Oh, how much more he needs to endure, it’s barely half of the song and the two of you already look like you’re about to devour each other. The lyric hits him harder than it should.

As much as Aventurine is mesmerized with each movement you make with every flick of your arms and the beautiful expressions painting your face, his body shudders every time you roll your body against Caelus. Your movements are graceful and alluring, a force that continues to draw him in, however, the sight of your dance partner makes him all jittery, balling up his hands into fists whenever he gets too close to you for his comfort. He tries to calm down by reminding himself that those are merely steps and mean nothing more. He can tell you enjoyed having the spotlight to showcase your burning passion for dancing. He feels his heart swell with pride as you capture the audience with your mystique and grace. The sight of you dancing to such a sensual song with somebody else, however, fills him with rage, jealousy seething inside his chest and consuming his insides nonetheless. He feels pathetic and utterly a loser. The rest of the song passes with the two of you teasing each other to see who’ll get in each other’s skin first. To the audience, it looks like you’ve been outright flirting for approximately four minutes and couldn’t help but squeal each time you smirk at each other.

It’s safe to say that he’s beyond upset. The closing act did take a toll on him, the crowd did not help but add fuel to the fire raging inside his chest. The backstage has been nothing but annoying to him too. He keeps on hearing his fellow dancers fawn over your performance, “How do they not fall for each other on the spot?!”, “Just kiss already!”, “That was crazy! Did you see the way they looked at each other?!” 

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After the curtain call, everyone gathers at the backstage. You and Caelus share a knowing glance before erupting into bursts of laughter. The other students snicker at your reactions, “They even have a secret communication. I’m out!” You scan your eyes among the students and notice how the particular blonde guy is out of sight. 

“Hey, have you seen Aventurine?” The loudness of your voice falls on deafening silence as the students look at each other and shrug at you. “Ah, I see. Thank you!”

“I bet your man is sulking to himself, so make sure to kiss it better,” Caelus whispers and nudges his elbow against your waist.

“Oh, I hope your engineering boyfriend scolds you nonstop after I tell him of your overly devious plan of making him jealous!” You flick his forehead, “Don’t forget that we have known each other since high school.” 

“Ouch!” He yelps in pain, rubbing the sore spot. “Dan Heng definitely won’t be mad at me, andddd, You’ll thank me later for sure.” He winks at you which causes you to scoff.

“I’ll make sure he does, though.” You give him a condescending smile, “See you around, Caelus.”

“Yeah, yeah, go find your man already.” Caelus pushes you away and you both chuckle at each other’s teasing attitude.

You rush through the crowd, muttering a series of “Excuse me.” and “I’m passing through.”  as you make your way to the place you think Aventurine currently hides himself in. You sigh deeply, halting your steps as you settle into the uncrowded area, knocking on the dressing room for you and Caelus, “Aventurine, I know you’re there.” 

Without waiting for a response, you open the door and find Aventurine lying down on the couch with an arm over his face. A sigh of relief washes over you, closing the door behind you as you step inside the quiet room. I hope nobody disturbs us. You slowly walk over to him, pushing his hips slightly backwards and take a seat beside his torso, “You weren’t there for the curtain call.” 

He can imagine the frown on your pretty face from how you sounded, he simply sighs, “I’m tired, is all.”

“Let’s go home then,” You reach out to the arm covering his face. 

He does not respond. The silence makes you feel all stuffy and overwhelmed. Exhaling deeply, you try to remove the arm off his face and see him with his eyes closed, “I know you’re awake,” You pout, poking his cheek.

“I wish to be alone.” He replies in a monotonous voice in contrast to the cheerful tone he usually has.

“If you truly wish to be alone, you wouldn’t be hiding yourself away here. This is technically my dressing room.” You chuckle at his excuse, “You were waiting for me.”

“Why’d you ask the obvious.” When he finally opens his eyes, he shifts his gaze to you and finds himself taken aback by how marvelous you are in your attire. He has told himself that he’d act distant and he feels his resolve crumble upon the sight of you frowning.

“I want to hear it from you,” You lie your head against his chest while sitting, wanting to feel the warmth of his body, “Is that too much to ask?”

Aventurine adjusts himself for you to settle more comfortably on his upper body, his hand moves up to caress the back of your head, “I was waiting for you. There, happy?” He feels your body vibrate against his as you chuckle. Oh, how he wishes for you to only act like this around him.

Ignoring the blonde’s snarky remark, “You were so cool earlier. I wish I was dancing with you.” You press your weight on him further. Aventurine unconsciously holds his breath upon hearing your words, unable to give you a response. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head to snap himself out of the daze, “I wish I was dancing with you.”

Minutes of silence engulf the atmosphere, prompting you to get up, placing both of your arms on each side of his head, trapping his face between your hands, “Were you jealous?” You see the way his eyes widen at your blunt inquiry.

“What?” That is all Aventurine managed to utter, he takes a deep breath and feels nervous at the way you observe every fibre of his being at the moment, your intense gaze causes him to shiver.

“I asked if you were jealous.” You repeat with more conviction this time. The scrutiny in your gaze makes him fumble over his words.

“And...and if I was?” He admits, the worry finally displaying in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you.” Your words shock him to the core. That is far from what he expects to hear. His body freezes and his breathing hitches as he simply stares at you with doe-eyes, “Caelus was just really eager to put up a stunt...” He snaps out of the trance as he hears the name of the person he currently despises, and his brows visibly furrow. 

“What for?” He asks in an annoyed tone and you wince.

“I guess his plan did work after all.” You let out a nervous chuckle, opting to answer his question indirectly.

“Ah, is that so?” Aventurine wraps his hands on both of your arms and removes them from his sides, sitting up in the process without letting go of the hold on your arms. He has this indescribable expression that causes your worry to spike up all the more.

“I hope you’re not mad.” You cast him a look of guilt. He feels himself gradually calming down upon hearing the truth behind the distasteful exchanges between the two of you during the closing act.

“Not anymore,” His thumbs rub soothing circles on your arms and you gladly welcome the warmth of his hand searing against your skin, “Not like I’m mad at you in the first place… I’m mad at myself rather.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I was so scared of feeling inferior to others when it comes to you.”

“I don’t want you to see me act brazen and uncool.” He breathes out.

“It’s not uncool to be jealous.” You raise your brows at him, “Knowing you, I know you’ll disguise your feelings into something else, there is no doubt about that. I’m glad you’re being honest with me right now.”

“I think you’ll have to thank your dance partner for that,” he rolls his eyes at the fact that Caelus actually helped him get out of his cowardice, “There’s no use being all sad and insecure when I could use the opportunity to tell you how I truly feel.” 

“I like you a lot, I’ve been trying to swallow these feelings due to the fear of losing you.” Aventurine feels nervous as hell as he utters those words slowly, his hands holding your arms quivering slightly, “You know how all my past relationships failed, right? I didn’t want that to happen between us. I cannot bear the thought of you being with someone else.”

“That won’t happen. I’m very certain.” You smile at him reassuringly, “I love you for all you are, Aventurine. I’ll never get tired of you. I know how hard you’ve been pushing yourself to become better and I wish to be by your side as you overcome your fears.”

Aventurine frowns in response, brows furrowing, “I wanted to say the L word first. That’s very sneaky of you, darling.”

“Sorry, I want to monopolize you sooner. I couldn’t wait anymore.” His jaw drops upon hearing your words, his mouth agape. He is beyond shocked at how bold your statement was, leaving him flabbergasted. When did you get so audacious? Did Caelus do something to you during your practices? He is perplexed, to say the least.

“Why are you looking at me like that!” You lightly hit his chest, snapping him out of stupefied state. 

“Since when did you learn to use such scandalous phrases?” His brows furrow at you accusingly.

“Caelus told me to say it to you once.” You close your eyes, admitting defeat.

“Perhaps I have one more thing to thank him for.” Aventurine finally composes himself, the usual playful attitude he sports is back. He gives you a sly grin, earning himself a treat of your blushing face, “May I?” You nod in response, closing your eyes as Aventurine leans forward, closing the gap between you. 

Aventurine whispers against your lips as he pulls away to admire your face,

“I love you more.”