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daydreaming-nerd · 6 hours

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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Azriel's Version)

Part One , Part 2

AN: "Majesty, Palo is exhausted. Because Majesty only Palo can take this (angst) and this (groveling) and give you...a masterpiece."

No fr guys I put my whole puss into this plz tell me if you liked it

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Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?

Warnings: angst, fluff like so much fluff, no editing (I'm so tired omg)

Word count: 9,370

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowing at my tear stained cheeks.

“Yeah,” I laughed him off, wiping the water from my face.

“I’m sorry I interfered like that, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak to him or if you wanted me to kick his ass. But he seemed mad and I wouldn’t stand for him yelling at you.” Lucien apologized leaning against the back of the couch a good three feet away sensing I needed some space.

“I suppose that I wasn’t sure what I wanted either,” I sigh leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you for stepping in. I think it was for the best.”

“Of course, I’ll always be there for you,” Lucien nods before resuming his staredown with the floor, probably trying to make sense of everything just like I was. “Az seemed…concerned for you. I think the bond snapped for him.”

“It did,” I say, running my hand over my chest, as if I could touch the faint glow of the bond that now sat in my chest. “It clicked the moment he saw us in the kitchen.”

“Are you happy it clicked?” he asked, once again asking all the questions I truly didn’t have an answer for, at least not yet.

“I-I’m not sure.” I say honestly, knowing I didn’t need to hide my true feelings from Lu. “I’ve pictured him finding out a million ways, but over the last couple years I’ve kind of given up on the whole endeavor. I felt like I made it clear that I liked him, and he only met me with complaints about other women. First Mor and then Elain.”

“Maybe he’s changed,” Lucien pointed out.

“Even if he had it’s not because he loves me.” I murmured sadly. “You heard him in there. He only wants me because he feels entitled to me. He never once acted like he cared about me beyond being his best friend's little sister.”

“I suppose you’re right, it’s hard to forgive 400 years of cruel behavior,” Lucien muttered, still staring at that little spot on the floor.

I strode across the room and leaned against the couch with him. I wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room in one foul swoop. I had just let out a 400 year old secret and for the first time ever, our mates seemed to give a damn about us. I look to Lucien who is still processing everything and I recall how Elain was so upset to see her mate with another female.

“Elain…” I started, wanting to tread carefully. “She seemed pretty upset,” I said, only stating the obvious.

Lucien chuckled, “Yeah, I think that’s the first time she’s ever called me her mate.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask wanting to give him the same room to speak that he gave me. I knew if he didn’t feel like sharing he wouldn’t, Lucien was no pushover.

“I feel strangely happy,” he says and for the first time since we got back his lip curls into a half smile. “I think that she might be willing to give me a chance.”

My heart warms at the idea of Lucien finally getting to have a chance with his true mate, “I’m really happy for you Lu,” I smile, patting his hand that sat on the back of the couch.

He snaps out of his trance, “that’s not to say that you’re not- you’re a wonderful woman y/n-” he rambles.

“Hey, HEY!” I shout getting his attention. “I’m happy for you Lucien. You deserve this,” I laugh at his attempt to not hurt my feelings.

“Thank you y/n,” he smiles, grabbing my hands and squeezing them.

“What do we do now though,” I sigh looking at his family ring on my finger.

His eyes flit to the ring as well as his thumb brushes over it, “We continue on as normal, we can push back the wedding. I’m not confident in what Elain wants from me at this point and you clearly are at odds with Azriel. If things don’t work out…” he trails off thinking about hsi next words. “If things don’t work out I would still be honored to have you as my wife. I still feel like we could make eachother happy.” he says earnestly.

I look into his eyes of russet and gold and see that he truly means every word, “Okay,” I nod my voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he agrees, keeping his voice down as well. “Shall we head to bed?” he asks.

“We shall,” I laugh, following him up the stairs.

That night we didn’t make love, we cuddled as normal though, but somehow even that felt wrong, now that the bond I prayed over for so long hummed within my chest.

While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.

“Just wait till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out.

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“You’re going to be a great mother one day” he admitted.

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “Of course, I’ve always been fond of children myself,” he laughed.

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” he assured me.

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms.

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, I always pictured them scaling Azriel when they were little like Nyx, and as they got older I would watch as Az taught them to fly.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple.

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

Feyre’s eyes sparkled at the sight of her son and Rhys eyes sparkled at the sight of Feyre taking their babe from my arms. I reluctantly gave Nyx back, already missing being able to pretend he was my own.

“He was a little angel,” I report to Feyre.

“If by angel you mean hellion,” Lucien chuckles behind me.

“I would expect nothing less from a child raised by this family,” Rhys laughed, wrapping one arm around Feyre and brushing a hand against his son’s cherub cheeks.

A silence rolled over the room as we all watched the little family reunite. I couldn’t help but flit my eyes to Azriel, who looked at them with a grin and a longing in his eyes. His eyes find me and I don’t dare look away.

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

Lucien releases his grip on my hip as I follow Azriel into Rhysand’s study and close the door behind me with a resolute click signaling that I was locked in here with him. Az takes up residence by Rhys’ desk, leaning against it like some sort of tortured man. I couldn’t help but notice he was still in his fighting leathers, his wings tucked in tight and his knuckles perched over his lips, like he was contemplating what to say. Even now, when he was at his most vulnerable, he was so beautiful.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. I yelled at you and I shouldn’t have,” he says fidgeting a bit. “Its just… it’s just that I was so pissed when I found him with his hands all over you and you just seemed so happy.”

He sighs running a hand through his hair staring at the ground, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I think that’s what bothered me the most,” he continues. “You seemed…happy.”

“You were upset because I was happy?” I scoff furrowing my brows at him, the fucking gall of this male.

“No, no! Gods y/n,” he corrects me, running his hands down his face clearly upset with himself. “I think I was upset because I wasn’t the one making you happy.” he finally says and I can hear the vulnerability in his voice.

I’m completely taken back by his words, at the fact that he admitted that he wanted to be the one to make me happy like that. The way Lucien did. It didn’t make any sense, given the fact that he never showed me in the last 400 years.

“That’s funny coming from a male who’s been complaining to me about the females he’s been in love with for the past 400 years.” I deadpan, crossing my arms.

“Is that how long you’ve known? 400 years?” he asked me, voice rising a bit.

I nod, “I knew the night you danced with me on solistance in the Hewn City all those years ago,” I confess.

“Fuck y/n,” he groans running his hands down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you started panting after Mor and the second you gave up on her in walked Elain!” I shouted, it was the most obvious thing ever as to why I didn’t tell him.

“You had to know that you were first,” he says, snapping his head up to meet mine, pleading in those hazel eyes.

I gave him a blank stare not knowing what he was talking about.

“Please tell me you know you were the first, before Mor, before Elain, I was practically on my knees for you,” he confessed.

Once again I’m left speechless. Could it be true? That he had wanted me before I even knew about the bond?

I shook my head, even if it was true he was speaking in past tense. I didn’t want him to be my mate because he felt like he had to be, I wanted him to love me, truly love me. I wanted him to choose me.

“I had no idea,” I admit feeling a bit of shame. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, it’s all in the past. I’m not mad at you Azriel.”

“Thank the cauldron,” he breathes, crossing the room to cup my face.

I place my hands on his wrists and pull them away from me, “Az I think that you should be with Elain,” I say, stepping back from him.

“What? No.” he shakes his head and I take another step back.

“You clearly love her and she loves you, the cauldron made a mistake by making us mates, it's as simple as that,” I say trying to hide my tears.

I loved Az, a part of me always would, but I wouldn’t be his consolation prize just because the cauldron fucked up and made me his mate instead of Elain. I couldn’t live with that.

“No don’t say that, please don’t say that,” Az pleads, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry Azriel but I won’t be your consolation prize,” I say before grabbing the door handle and walking out into the living room where Lucien was.

Azriel goes to say more until he hears the hitch in my breath. There, before me, Lucien is tucking a stray hair out of Elain’s face and placing a kiss on her knuckles. A sweet gesture, one I’ve probably read about a thousand times in my romance novels. Lucien’s eyes flit to mine, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen him so happy.

“We’re going to give it a shot,” he smiles happily, putting an arm around Elain.

“Really?” I ask looking to Elain who smiles brightly.

“Yeah we are,” she says smiling up at Lucien.

“Oh I’m so happy for you two,” I cheer before engulfing them both in a hug.

“Congrats you guys,” Azriel mutters from behind me, seemingly abandoning whatever he was going to say to me in favor of praising his friends.

Lucien chuckles at my excitement, “Don’t get too excited, we’re going to have to move my stuff out of your place today, I think it’s time I move back into the townhouse,” he smiled.

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get started!” I cheer, grabbing his hands to winnow us away.

In reality I wasn’t excited about the idea of moving, and much less excited about the idea of my little townhouse being empty again. But I needed to get away from Azriel.

One week later:

After the all day affair of moving Lucien’s accumulated stuff out of my house and in the townhouse I was back to loving alone. Which at first wasn’t terrible. I was content to read my book and cook for myself when necessary. But after about a week I began to miss the food Lucien would make, or having someone to lie next to. It was a strange feeling, it felt like a breakup, but I wasn’t sad. I missed having another heartbeat in the house, not Lucien himself.

After a week of getting my affairs in order my brother finally asked me for some help and I was thankful for the distraction. All week I had been in my own head about all that had happened, with Lu and Elain, with me and Az. I needed a break to think of something else.

That’s how I found myself slipping on an old day court dress and getting ready to winnow to see Helion, an old friend of mine. I was leaving the house and locking the door when I ran smack into a large chest I screamed being taken off guard.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” a familiar voice apologized, I turn to find Azriel standing before me.

“It’s okay, I should’ve been paying more attention,” I chuckle awkwardly. I hadn’t heard from the spymaster in a week, why would he come to talk to me now?

Azriel’s eyes furrow from where they tower over me, “Why are you dressed for the Day Court?” he inquires.

“Oh well,” I look down at the swaths of white fabric that cascaded down my body, suddenly feeling a bit exposed from off the shoulder dress. “Rhys wants me to go and schmooze Helion a little bit. Something about wanting to get him to agree to better trade deals.” I laugh remembering how my brother agonized over it the other day.

“So he wants you to go and flirt with Helion?” Az cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Well Helion and I go way back, and he’s always been…well keen on me.” I say honestly and I watch as Az bristles just a bit. I can’t even count the number of times the High Lord as tired to get Cassian and I in his bed

“I’ll give Rhys one thing he sure is ruthless,” Azriel chuckles trying to play off his nerves.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask, still wondering why he’s here, at my doorstep.

“Oh uh, no,” Azriel stutters. “Well actually I was walking by and I saw this and I thought of you.” he says pulling out a white rose. It looked like he had plucked it right off the bush down the street. “I thought you should have it.” he finished.

I take the rose from his hand and notice that the thorns have all been cut off. I eye Truth Teller strapped at his side and the lingering thorn that was still stuck on its sharp blade.

“That was very thoughtful of you Az thank you,” I tell him sweetly, taken back by his gesture.

“You’re welcome,” he says, seemingly relaxing at my acceptance of his gift.

I check my watch, “Well I really do have to go, Helion is waiting for me,” I wince moving past him on the stairs so I can get past the words my brother has on my place.

“Yes of course,” Az says following me down the steps and out the wrought iron fence. “Do you need a ride?”

“I’m okay, I can winnow,” I chuckle, closing the gate behind me.

“Well I guess I’ll see you later then,” Azriel voices with a hint of a sigh.

“Yeah I’m sure you will,” I reply before winnowing into Helion’s mansion.

How could Az be so calm about all this? It was like he was trying to force himself to have feelings for me, figuring he better learn to love me now that he’s shackled to me for eternity. Part of me wondered if Rhys had given him a firm talking to and convinced him to attempt to like me.

“There she is,” Helion mused from the top of the stairs coming down the stairs dressed in his usual attire. Part of me hated that I found him attractive, in another life, if he wasn’t so promiscuous, I might’ve seen myself standing by his side.

“Helion,” I smile, pulling him in for a hug.

When we pull away his hands linger at my waist and his eyes look at the rose in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks plucking the rose from my hand.

I think about the encounter with Azriel, how forced it all felt.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Helion tosses the flower aside before throwing his arm over my shoulder and leading me inside, “So, your brother has sent you to convince me to agree to his new trade agreements.” he smirks.

“He’s done nothing of the sort, I came to visit an old friend of my own accord,” I tease, knowing Helion isn’t as daft as Rhys makes him out to be.

“We’ll see about that new treaty after some wine, and tell your brother that next time he wants to use you against me as leverage he should just send you naked,” Helion chuckles.

I erupt in laughter, slapping his arm as he leads us to a white couch with a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table.

Three days later after successfully getting Helion to agree to a new trade treaty I found myself sitting in my living room with a glass of wine enjoying the fruits of my labors. As soon as I told Rhys about the High Lord of Day’s cooperation he sent me one of his finest bottles of wine as a thank you. Not that I required any thanks, I enjoyed spending time with Helion.

My silence was interrupted by my door opening and closing. I just about jumped out of my skin, the only one who had the key to the place was Lucien and he had given it back a long time ago. My heart pounded as I stood from the couch in my nightgown and robe. I had turned in for the night and certainly wasn’t expecting visitors. I lift my romance novel over my head and step around he couch ready to swing when I see Azriel locking the door behind him quietly.

“Azriel you scared the hell out of me,” I sigh, lowering the book.

He turns from the door looking me up and down taking in my casual attire hungrily. “I’m sorry I guess I’m just used to walking right in, I wanted to give you these,” he says holding out a large bouquet of white roses, exactly like the kind he gave me the other day.”

“Thank you Az, they’re beautiful,” I say wearily, taking them from his scarred hands. “I’ll uh- I’ll just put them in water,” I tell him, padding into the kitchen to grab a vase and fill it.

“I thought since you liked the other one I gave you that you might like those ones too,” he says walking into the kitchen and leaning in my doorway.

I place the two dozen roses in a vase,“Well I appreciate them, it’s been a while since I’ve had fresh flowers in the house,” I divulge to him, remembering how Lucien used to bring them home all the time. He would always ask for Elain to make him a bouquet, his little way of speaking to her in a way that didn’t make her uncomfortable. The thought had me thinking of how Lucien and Elain were probably sitting at a nice dinner right now, had me questioning why the fuck Azriel was here.

A silence fills the room as Azriel sits admiring either me or the flowers, from where I’m standing it could be either or. I walk around the kitchen island to test the theory and sure enough his eyes follow me as I lean my back against the side closer to him. A wave of embarrassment slips over me. Did Rhys ask him to bring more flowers again? Was I really that pathetic?

“Az why are you doing this?” I ask, gesturing to the flowers behind me.

Azriel straightens taking a tentative step towards me, “Because I want what Elain and Lucien have. I want you to give me a chance to be a good mate,” he says softly.

I look to the wooden floors below me, my bare feet messing with a loose floorboard, “You don’t have to do this Azriel. If Rhys sent you I’ll just cover for you and say you came.” I say not daring to look at him.

“I’m not here because of Rhys, I’m here because I want to see you,” he implored and I heard his feet shuffle closer.

“I’m still not your consolation prize just because Lucien and Elain are doing well. I won’t do that to myself,” I say, continuing to mess with the loose floorboard.

“You’re not my consolation prize y/n, you’re my mate.” Azriel states, his voice becoming more urgent causing me to tighten my arms around myself ever so slightly.

His boots come into my line of sight and suddenly he’s titling my chin up to meet his pleading gaze. I’m suddenly all too aware of how underdressed I was. There was a time when I would’ve killed for this. But now? I won’t let myself be hurt again.

“Y/n please-”

“Azriel I’m at peace,” I snap, cutting him off and looking down at our feet once again even though his hand still rested under my chin. “For the first time in 400 years I’m at peace. I have loved, and pined, and thrown myself at your feet for 400 years, and I am finally happy in my exile. So forgive me if I’m hesitant to give that up so quickly because you all of the sudden want a mate.” I bit out.

His shadows dance around my hands and I move my fingers out of their grasp, like their cold kiss was burning me.I wait for him to say something back, for him to breathe wrong, yell at me or leave but he doesn’t move. I let my eyes flit up to his, and I find him staring down at me, like he’s been waiting for me to look at him this whole time.

“I’m not going to give up,” he states, if he was sad or upset by my previous words he doesn’t show it.

I sigh, tossing my head back, “Az please,” I beg.

“No I’m serious, I’m not giving up on you, on us,” he maintained steadfastly, his hands not leaving my cheek as he steps even closer to me and my back hits the cool granite behind me.

“Azriel I think you should go,” I grit out, the second my body stiffens under his he steps back giving me my space.

“Alright I’ll go,” he says, taking a step back.

I follow him to the door and hold it open as he steps out into the cool night air that has me wrapping my silk robe around me tighter, as if it was helping anything anyways.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assures me before shooting off into the sky.

“I really wish you wouldn’t!” I shout into the air after him before slamming the door and locking it.

I take a deep breath once I’m seated on my couch again, trying to salvage any sort of peace I might still have. But that tranquility was disappearing in my hands the more I chased it.

The following day I head to Rhys’ house to talk over the new adjustments in the Day Court trade agreements. It was supposed to be easy enough, but as things got more and more complex it ended up being an all day thing. By the time I walked up the steps to my own townhouse I was exhausted and starving. I wasn’t looking forward to bread for dinner as I had no time to go to the market today.

I kicked open the door and locked it behind me, the smell of fresh tomatoes and basil wafted through the air causing me to pause in my tracks. Was Lucien here? Had him and Elain gotten in a fight or something?

“Ah shit!” I heard a male cuss followed by the searing of liquid on a burner.

I curiously walk around the corner of the kitchen where I’m greeted with the sight of Azriel, standing in my apron, reading my cookbook and stirring some sort of sauce. His shadows were helping him turn the pages of the book. I see the spilled sauce on the burner that was the cause of his profanity just moments ago.

“There you are,” he smirked, his eyes flitting up to mine before reading the book again.

“Az what are you doing here?” I ask, setting my bag down on the table.

“Making you dinner,” he said, gesturing to the numerous used pans and utensils lying around my once clean kitchen.

I walk over to inspect what he’s cooking. Fresh herb crusted chicken cooks in the pan next to him while he stirs a red sauce. In the sink is cooked pasta sitting next to freshly sauteed green beans. I inhale the smell of the food deeply and I can’t help but feel myself salivate a little, it smells delicious.

“You always dog ear the recipes you want to try but you never make them for fear of not liking them,” he says nonchalantly as he prods at the chicken.

I look down at the cookbook he’s reading, sure enough the recipe he’s making has a bent corner. I had been itching to try it but had never found the time.

“If you end up not liking it there’s take out from Rita’s in the ice box,” he said using the spoon to point to the ice box in the corner of the room.

I look up to fully inspect him. This all feels like a ridiculous practical joke. If someone had told me that my spymaster would be cooking me dinner I would’ve laughed in their face. Upon further inspection I realize he’s shirtless, save for my apron he’s wearing.

“Was the half nudity necessary?” I cock an eyebrow leaning against the counter.

Azriel barked out a laugh, “It took me a while to find the apron, I had gotten tomato juice on my shirt when I started chopping them up for the sauce so I took it off and washed it,” he explained the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Plus I figured the whole shirtless bit might win me more brownie points with you.”

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, I didn’t dare let him know how right he was.

He laughed at my reaction, “Why don’t you go sit down, dinner’s almost ready.” he said gesturing to the couch.

I shrugged my shoulders and padded my way over to my favorite reading spot. The one he found me in yesterday. I plop down on the velvet sofa and there in front of me on the coffee table, my book has been left open to the place I bookmarked and a glass of wine sits for me. I raise an eyebrow but decide to just roll with it, I pick up the book and sip on the wine, becoming engrossed with the story.

A few minutes later I feel the cold begin to bite at my toes. I look around for a blanket and see that the nearest one is across the room. I curse at the idea of having to move, but before I can even set my book down one of Azriel’s shadows is scurrying across the room to retrieve the knitted blanket for me. The wisp of darkness arranges the blanket neatly over my legs, tucking me in like a mother would her child. I can’t help but laugh at the care the little thing is putting into the job.

Azriel’s shadows looking out for me was nothing new, the second the bond clicked for me they tended to stay near me. Picking up pens and silverware I dropped on the floor and always twirling around my hair and wrists. There were even times they would try to drag Az near me, like on starfall and solstice, nights I looked especially beautiful. But he would always curse and wave them off until they left him alone.

The little shadow perched itself on my shoulder as if it too wanted to read my book. I could sense it was trying to anticipate any other small need I might have.

“You know he might be insufferable but you guys are pretty great,” I laugh looking at the curious being.

In response the shadow boops itself on my nose as if it was giving me a kiss.

“Don’t tell them that or they’ll get a big head,” Azriel murmurs behind me where he’s leaning against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, still shirtless and wearing that damned apron.

“In that case I’ll be sure to praise them more often, they’re little angels,” I smile as the tendril of darkness dances around my collar.

Azriel lets out a small chuckle behind me, “Dinner is ready,” he tells me before disappearing into the kitchen once more.

I follow him as the small shadow frantically pulls at my wrist towards the table, as if it’s eager for me to see what it helped its master cook. When I walk into the darkened kitchen and find that Az has set the table not only with our dinner but with candles and another bouquet. This time it’s an arrangement of jasmine, no doubt from the florist down the street.

I sit down and inhale the heavenly scent of the white flowers and hum in delight. Azriel comes in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring us each a bit. He sees me admiring the flowers and smiles.

“Jasmine, like your perfume,” he says, putting down the bottle and taking his seat next to me.

I smile and look down at the plate before me. It looks delicious, the pasta is fragrant with basil, the chicken is cooked to perfection and the green beans are vibrant and green. I lift my fork and dig into the past first. The moment it hits my tongue the flavor melts in my mouth, rich, bold and oh so savory. I let out a moan as my eyes flit to Azriel who is watching me expectantly wondering if I’m going to like it or not.

“This is incredible,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand so he doesn’t see me chewing.

“Thank the cauldron I thought I put too much red pepper in,” he breathes out, seemingly relaxing before digging into his own plate.

“No it’s perfect, thank you really,” I say earnestly.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, taking a bite of chicken.

We sit and eat our meals in silence simply enjoying the good food. A little shadow flitted up in front of my face to gauge my reaction to the bite of chicken I was chewing. I couldn’t help but laugh as it shifted like it was cocking its head at me.

“Yes it’s very good, you did a wonderful job,” I laugh at the little fella.

My giggle brings Azriel’s attention to me once again and before I know it he’s waving his hand at the little tendril like he’s swatting a fly.

“Hey go away let her eat for the love of god,” he chastises as the shadow slinks back behind him.

“Don’t worry it wasn’t bothering me,” I laugh taking another bite of green beans.

“Yeah well they haven’t been listening lately,” he says looking back at the little shadow that had slinked behind his shoulder like a reprimanded child.

I shake my head at the two of them interacting and take another sip of wine. To be honest I wasn;t really sure what to say to Azriel. Despite his valiant efforts to win me I still wasn’t ready to abandon the peace I had grown so fond of.

“You know it’s funny,” he tells me, playing with the food on his plate. “I feel like my shadows have always liked you. It was like they knew before I did,” he laughed nervously at his confession.

“Maybe so,” I shrug, not wanting to broach the subject, the friendlier we could make this the better.

“I can remember times when they would drag me into any room that had you in it. Most of the time I control them, but when it comes to you? They control me.” he laughs while taking a sip of his wine.

“Thank you again for dinner,” I say, forcibly changing the topic of conversation. “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal. I think the local restaurants have my to-go orders memorized now.” I laugh.

“Lucein used to cook for you didn’t he?” Azriel asks, and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I play with the pasta on my plate.

“Yeah he did, he was a surprisingly good cook too,” I say, recalling the traditional Autumn Court meals he would cook all the time. They were mostly for him, for when he was feeling nostalgic, but he always left some for me as well.

Azriel sits for a moment as if debating whether or not to say something for a moment. “Did you love him?” he asks.

My fork clatters to the plate at the abrupt question and I’ve never felt so put on the spot. It was never something I had thought about in regards to the autumn court male. Love seemed like an emotion that would be reserved for Azriel and Azriel alone, until one day it wasn’t. I didn’t love Lucien, but I certainly stopped loving Az in that way, or at least I think I did.

“No I didn’t” I say honestly turning to meet the shadowsingers gaze. “Lucien and I… it was never like that. We both knew what we needed for each other, it started as just sex. But then he would stay the night, and then we started going to breakfast. His shirts started showing up in the laundry hamper, his books on the coffee table. Eventually I just gave him a key, it seemed like the logical thing to do. We didn’t even label our relationship until he asked me to marry him.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Azriel said, going back to shyly staring down at the table. “I overheard your conversation that one day. When you asked him about the possibility of having children. You said that you always pictured your children having wings, was that true?” he inquired.

I nod shallowly, unable to trust my own words in such a raw moment.

If Az had any other questions he didn’t ask them or press me to talk about the two of us, it was as if he was happy with the answers I did give him. He was perfectly content to let me finish eating my meal in comfortable silence. When I was finished he cleared the table and didn’t let me lift a finger to help clean. Instead those pesky shadows cornered me into reading my book once more.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he came in, dressed in his shirt once more to bid me goodnight. He insisted that I stay in my comfortable spot by the couch as he walked himself out locking the door behind him. As the comfortable silence, which I had grown so used to, ensued, I found myself silently wishing he had stayed just a little longer.

The following weeks were spent with little visits from shadows and shadowsingers. Sometimes it would be Azriel showing up at my door with coffee or gifts. Other times, when Rhys had Azriel on missions he would find ways to leave things at my doorstep. The first time it was another bouquet of flowers and then chocolates.

My favorite gift from Azriel had been the books. The first set he got me was the second and third book in my series. They appeared at my door the morning after he made me dinner with a note that read…

I noticed that you were almost done with your book last night so I went out to get you the second book. I noticed it was a short book so I got you the third in case you finished it in one day like you no doubt will.

-Azriel

Of course he was right and I finished the second book by the end of the day. When I opened the third, and much longer book, to begin reading it a bookmark fell out and another note.

I figured you might need a bookmark for this one.

-Azriel

He was right about that as well.

The next book to be delivered was a classic romance with certain pages, and quotes underlined. His notes scribbled in the margins. Clearly he had taken the time to read the novel himself. When I saw the first annotation I expected his further notes to be corny or cheesy, but each one was well thought out.

The most recent literally delivery was a small and short book about different types of flowers. Between each of the pages sat a live flower that corresponded with the page. It was possibly the most vibrant and beautiful bouquet I had ever seen and by far my favorite floral gift I had received.

This week though things had been different. As the colder months were drifting in I started spending more time inside, reading by the fire. But not once had Azriel stopped by. Not a present, not a note to be found. When I subtly asked Rhys were the shadowsinger was he told me he was in the isle of Hybern.

A week had come and gone without so much as a tendril of a shadow to be seen. I sat infront of my roaring fire with a book in hand trying to escape the bitter cold. Outside the first snowfall of the year had taken the form of a blizzard. I pitied the shopkeepers that would have to walk home in it.

Around midnight I heard the scraping of metal against stone from outside my house. I jumped out of my skin and quickly looked at the clock noting the late hour. I set down my novel to wrap myself in a blanket and pad over to the front door. I could already hear the winds outside and feel the cold air seeping in through the cracks in the door.

I open the door to investigate the strange sound and I nearly gasp when I find Azriel outside my house shoveling my walkway with a small shovel from my garden. One meant for digging out plants and trees, not snow.

“Az what are you doing?” I ask, making the spymaster jump a bit.

“I’m shoveling your walkway. I didn’t want you to slip tomorrow morning or hurt your back trying to shovel it yourself,” he said, digging into the snow again with the little metal shovel.

“Oh Az you don’t have to do that,” I coo walking out into the cold pulling my blanket tighter.

“I don’t have to but I want to,” he said shoveling more snow. “It wouldn’t take so long if I had a bigger shovel.” he grunts, frustrated.

“Well why didn’t you take Rhys’ shovel?” I laughed watching as the overgrown Illyrain tried to mangle the tiny thing.

“Well I just got back from Hybern, I saw it had snowed and I came here first.” he explained and my heart swelled. He had come to my place first before he even went home. “I figured if I didn’t do it you would fall and break your head open.”

“Azriel, really you don’t have to do this, I can handle it,” I plead with him feeling bad that he’s subjected himself to the weather.

He stops his shoveling and turns to look at me, “y/n I want to do this. Don’t worry about it.” he says before looking me up in down seeing that I’m in nothing but a short nightgown and a blanket. “Now go inside before you catch a cold.”

“Me? What about you?” I laugh looking around at the snow falling around us.

“I’m Illyrian the snow doesn’t bother me,” he retorts and I can tell that he’s lying by the pink in his cheeks from the cold.

“Well I’m half Illyrian,” I counter, swinging back and forth on my heels.

“Then I’m sure half of you is really cold,” he rebuttals. “Now go back inside and get warm before I carry you inside myself.” he smirks before shoveling up another heap of snow.

I just shake my head and retreat to the warm fireplace awaiting me.

I waltz into the House of Wind where the Solstice party is in full swing. Lords from neighboring courts are chatting and drinking all around and from the corner of the room I can hear Cassian’s booming laugher as he doubles over at something Helion has said.

Like almost every solstice party I arrive fashionably late. I truly never mean to be the last to arrive, but it feels like the whole guest list decides to arrive early just to spite me. I make my way around the area where couples and children are dancing to a small quartet and head toward the bar. My dress billows behind me like liquid starlight. Just like every solstice party before this one, I will get by with copious amounts of wine.

I lean against the bar and watch as Elain and Lucien laugh and giggle across the room. I smile as Elain pops a pastry into Lu’s mouth and I can’t help but feel a warmness in my chest at the two of them. Lucien was finally happy with his mate, and if there was ever someone who deserved such happiness it was him.

My thoughts are interrupted by a shadowy friend making its presence known. Flying up by my face to say hello and then rushing behind me as if it was called. I turn to see Azriel dressed immaculately staring at me. His eyes flit up and down my body taking in every detail of me.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head, as if the words he was going to say wouldn’t be the right ones. “There are no words. Even the poets would get it wrong.”

I can’t help but blush at his choice of words, taking a step toward him as the shadows behind me are pushing me to do so.

“You clean up pretty good yourself, spymaster,” I chuckle giving him a once over.

He blushes and then speaks again, “I mean it, you look beautiful tonight y/n.”

I blush again and turn my head to avoid his gaze, like that shade of hazel might burn me from the inside out if I look too long.

“You must allow me to dance with you,” he says, taking both our drinks and placing them on the bar. “Not having you out on that dance floor would be a disservice to everyone here.”

I laugh taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor, “Alright Az you’ve convinced me, but only because I know you won’t step on my feet,”

We fall into a comfortable motion, swaying back and forth to the slow tempoed song the quartet is playing. The couples around us filter around us, some lost in deep conversation, some embraced closely swaying to the song. I keep my eyes on them, knowing that Azriel’s gaze is on me.

Memories of a solstice much like this one float through my mind. The way my feet ached before Azriel saved me, sweeping me up into a dance. The way the bond felt when it snapped into place for me. I had pulled on it so desperately hoping he might feel it too. I thought of all the years of agony that followed that night. Watching Az fall for Mor and later on Elain. Hearing my brother and Cassian talking about Azriel’s exploits in bedding local women. All of it tore me apart and it took over 200 years to rebuild the part of me that I had lost. I wondered if I would ever be whole like that again.

I hear Elain and Lucien’s laughter once more, the sound breaking me from my thoughts as Azriel and I continue to sway to the music.

“They make a great couple,” Azriel’s deep voice rumbles through me.

I smile watching Lucine place a kiss to his mates lips, “They really do,” I say with a lightness to my voice.

“Do you think we’ll ever be like that?” He asks tentatively and my world comes crashing down.

“Az,” I say and his face falls at the dismissal in my tone.

“Why not y/n? Why can’t we have a shot like they can?” Azriel says starting to get upset.

As if on queue the song that the quartet is playing ends and I hear the musicians flipping through their sheet music to find the next song. I pull my hands out of Azriel’s and take a few steps back.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I say calmly, trying not to let the damn of tears break. I swiftly move past him towards the door.

“Y/n wait!” I hear him call out behind me but I’m already out the door, my tears falling down my face as I make my way back to that empty townhouse in the middle of the city.

The rain outside my house slams into the window violently. Spring has come early in Velaris and I wasn’t exactly upset about it. At least I wasn’t until this torrential downpour blew into town. I hadn’t seen rain like this in the Night Court for at least a hundred years now.

It’s been weeks since solstice and it seems that Azriel has finally taken the hint and left me alone. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since that dance. Not a flower, chocolate or shadow to be seen and while I should be happy about it I had never been sadder. After all the walls I put up trying to keep my peace it seemed that he had succeeded in breaking them down again.

I sat by the fire staring down at the dancing flames, no book, not even a glass of wine or tea. Just me and my all consuming thoughts. Each one of them led back to hazel eyes and blue siphons.

I jump at the sound of a fist pounding on my door. Pulling my sweater tighter to cover up my nightgown I walk over to investigate who would have the guts to stand out in this monsoon at this hour. When I open the door I find Azriel bracing his arms against the doorframe, out of breath like he ran here. His hair soaking wet and sticking to his brow as the rain pelted him.

“Az?” I shout over the sound of rain.

“I can’t go on like this any longer y/n, I won’t do it!” he shouts over the storm.

“Az it’s pouring what are you-”

“I love you y/n!” he shouts stopping me mid sentence. “From the moment I met you I knew. I wanted so badly to put my hands around your waist and kiss you. And if you’re wondering why that seems like such an adolescent dream it’s because that’s what we both were. I was 117 years old and you were 115 and that’s all I wanted. I knew little of love, even less of lust. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss you,” he hollers over the sound of rain wiping the water from his eyes.

“I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt you, but I swear to you I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, because I love you. And I don’t care that you don’t love me too, because I love you y/n. I choose to love you!” he finishes and I can’t tell if it's rain falling from his eyes or tears that match my own.

I choose to love you.

I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek.

He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper.

He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face.

“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”

I pull him in deeper at the utterance of those two little words. I had waited 400 years for this male to kiss me, and this kiss right here? Well it made everything all the more worth it.

Epilogue: 5 years later

I stand outside on the lawn of the townhouse. My arms clutching around the sweater I’m wearing as the fresh spring air blows over my skin. My hands drift lower to the small bump of my stomach.

I was only a few months pregnant and barely starting to show. Elain had told me that it would be a girl claiming she had seen it in a vision. I couldn’t have been more excited for Azriel to be a girl dad.

“You’re doing it son!” I hear my mate call from the sky where he teaches our son to fly.

“Dad, I'm flying!” the onyx haired child shouted as he flapped his wings to pick up some speed.

At first I was apprehensive of him learning to fly so early, even though it had always been a dream of mine to watch my children learn to fly. But Azriel had assured me that the youngster was more than ready, and after a few weeks of lessons here he was taking to the air like a natural.

I look around at the townhouse behind me. It had seen some significant changes since the night Azriel stood in the rain and told me he loved me. The front yard was littered with toy swords and shields, and the outside had a fresh coat of paint. The inside had a room addition, a room for our son, Kai, and now we're adding another room for our daughter. All paid for by Rhys of course who was more than happy to give his nephew and niece everything under the sun.

My thoughts are interrupted by Azriel slamming into the ground before me. I turn to see him walking over to me with a smile on his face.

“Az shouldn’t you be up there with him?!” I fuss looking to where our son swoops and dives through the air.

Azriel laughs and picks me up bridal style, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“It didn’t feel right being up there without my girls,” he smiled nodding to my bump.

Without warning he took off into the sky meeting Kai up there. We must’ve spent hours flying around the city, stopping by every uncle and aunt's house to show them Kai’s new skill. Everything was perfect, and for the first time in my whole life, I finally knew peace.

(Do you guys want a smutty bonus chapter of what they did after he confessed his love???)

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redzie02 · 13 hours

Text

Jongho is jealous and Wooyoung is the cause because of course he is

drabble written past midnight

warnings: jealousy/ insecurity/ jongho having one sided beef with wooyoung/ jongho being an irritated bear

Jongho knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way- he had no reason to. He knows you love him and care about him, you tell him so every day. Never once has he felt unloved by you. But today…he was feeling insecure. And being so insecure made him feel guilty for the tiny part of him that was doubting your affection for him.

You see, today, the both of you had spent the day with Wooyoung. It really wasn’t any different than any other weekend. But for some reason, Jongho couldn’t help but hyper focus on the way you threw your head back and cackled when Wooyoung would make a joke. Or when Wooyoung would steal a bite of your food and you didn’t even seem to mind or second glance.

Now there wasn’t exactly anything strange about this- Wooyoung was your best friend after all. Jongho just couldn’t help but compare himself to Wooyoung.

Of course you didn’t know Jongho was feeling any of this yet, he hides his emotions well. But as you walked towards the cafe hand in hand, you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing he’d been a bit quiet for the past few minutes. You squeezed his hand and he turned his head to meet your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping he would be able to read the question behind your eyes. Are you okay? He returned the smile, to which you lifted your interlocked fingers to place a kiss on the back of his hand.

After entering the cafe and ordering iced coffees- and a chocolate croissant you’d been craving all day- you walked to a table with drinks in hand. Usually Jongho liked to sit across from you, but today he’d quickly taken the spot next to you before Wooyoung even had the chance to.

You quickly fell into a conversation and Wooyoung showed you and Jongho pictures he had taken the past week.

“Hey, fix your face! Why do you look so miserable?”

“Wha-“ You lifted your gaze from Wooyoung’s phone, ready to defend yourself, only to find Wooyoung pointing his finger at Jongho. Brows raised in confusion, you turned to look at him.

“What are you talking about? My face is fine.” Jongho rolled his eyes while sipping his coffee.

Wooyoung gave you a look and teased Jongho further. “Where are your manners? I’m gonna tell Hongjoong you’re being a brat.” You watched them in amusement.

“Oh yeah? And what the hell is he gonna do about it?”

“Sell you, probably.”

You attempted to laugh, but choked on your coffee instead. Jongho patted your back as you coughed into your napkin. “You guys are idiots,” you croaked.

Before leaving the cafe, Wooyoung excused himself to the bathroom. You waited for him outside and took advantage of this moment. You grabbed Jongho’s hand and pulled him closer to your body.

“Are you okay, Jongho? You haven’t really said much.” There was a look behind his eye that you'd never seen before, but it was gone as soon as you noticed it.

Jongho put on his best face, not wanting you to worry any more about him. "Hm? Oh- yeah I'm fine, I guess I'm just a bit tired." Jongho felt his hands clam up as he watched you wordlessly examine his face.

You took a deep breath and held his face. "Are you sure? Your knee isn't sore again or anything? If it is, we can go home and I can ice it for you and I'll make tea an-"

"No baby, I'm not in pain, I swear. I was just in a weird mood, I guess...sorry." His hands were now over yours.

You opened your mouth to reply only to be interrupted again. "You're always weird, man."

Wooyoung. Jongho tried not to hit Wooyoung, but failed, landing a slap on his shoulder. "If your face wasn't so important, I'd punch you instead."

Wooyoung pulled him into a tight embrace, smacking a kiss on his cheek. "Wrong! I'm your favorite." Jongho struggled to get away, but Wooyoung only held him tighter. He loved tormenting him.

"Hey, get off my boyfriend." You pouted, reaching out. Wooyoung caught your hand and pulled you in, trapping you as well and planting a kiss on your cheek. You groaned and pinched his sides, making him yelp.

"That hurt!"

Both you and Jongho replied at the same time, "Good."

Back home, Jongho sat on the couch while you prepared tea in the kitchen. Soft music played and you hummed to it as you pulled out mugs from the cabinet.

You stirred the tea and carefully made your way to where Jongho sat. "Careful, it's hot."

"Mm, thank you."

You sat down and let out a sigh of relief. The apartment was quiet and peaceful, the yellow glow from the street lights subtly peeked through the blinds. You still had this one thing on your mind though.

"So, what did you mean earlier when you said you were in a weird mood?"

"Oh-uh nothing- I-why do you ask?"

"I don't know...you just didn't really seem too excited today. You barely talked either. You can talk to me about how you're feeling, you know."

"I know, I know. I just-"

DING

The sound of your phone going off startled you both. Jongho rolled his eyes when you read Wooyoung's name out loud. He let out a frustrated sigh, which you heard.

"What? Is it Wooyoung? Was it something he said?"

Jongho huffed and tossed his body back into the couch, crossing his arms, eyes facing the ceiling. He knew he was being dramatic but he didn't care. He mumbled to himself, hoping you wouldn't hear. "Even when he's not here, he gets your attention. God, he's so annoying."

You blinked at him. Things were finally clicking into place and you heart panged for not noticing sooner. You slid your hand down his arm. "Jongho..." He didn't budge. He let you pull his arm away so you could snuggle into his side. His arm fell over your body. "Baby..." He lifted his head to find your eyes fixated on his. "I don't think I've ever seen you jealous in my life."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yeah? Then what are you feeling, hm?" Your voice was soft as you spoke to him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed about the way he felt and the way he acted as a result of that. You leaned up and kissed his eyelids. "Jongho, you know you're the person I love most, right? And maybe this is toxic, but I'd burn the world if you told me to."

He chuckled and finally opened his eyes, "Please don't, we know you can't stand heat."

You bit back a smile. "I hate that I made you feel this way, bear. Can you please tell me what line I crossed that made you uncomfortable?"

He sighed and sat up, tightening his arm around you. "Honestly, there wasn't anything that you or Wooyoung did....I just- I don't know. I guess today was one of those days where I overthought everything...I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, I get what you mean. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, bear?"

Jongho thought for a moment, but eventually sunk further into the couch, bringing you with him. "No, just be here and-" DING "-and please mute Wooyoung."

You stifled your laugh into his chest. "Didn’t you say you wanted me to be friends with your friends?"

"I take that back."

#jongho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #angst #jongho x you #ateez fanfic #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x reader #Choi Jongho #wooyoung fanfic

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dira333 · 2 days

Text

In Handwriting - Tanaka x Reader

written for my supersecret fix exchange with @haikyu-mp4

“Will you marry me?”

You blink in surprise. “Eh?”

The guy across from you blushes a feverish red, though he does not lose any of his confidence.

“I’m Tanaka,” he offers you his hand like it’s a sword and you’re the princess he’s sworn to protect. “The love of your life.”

You can’t help but giggle at that. He’s creative, you have to give him that.

“You’re very confident.”

“Confidence is my middle name,” he boasts, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Ah? Is that so? And what’s your first name.”

“Guess.”

“Ryūnosuke.” You can’t help but snort when his jaw slackens in disbelief.

“No way, how did you guess- Are you psychic?”

“It’s on your shirt,” you point at the name tag. “And I don’t spot a C for Confidence there.”

“Oh, that’s… uh… that’s because there was no more space,” he stutters for a second before getting back to his confident self. “But you looked at my chest.”

“I did,” you snort, “And you still need to tell me what you want to order.”

“What’s your favorite drink?”

“I don’t think you’d like it.”

“Mhm,” he smiles, “Try me.”

So you tell him, fighting a smile when he actually orders it, along with a cup of straight black coffee for his coworker.

You write his full name on both of the cups - even though the coffee shop is as empty as it could be - and add a little heart to both of them.

“Aww, you love me too,” he coos when you hand him the drinks. “Can I have your pen for a second?”

“Of course,” you hand it to him, watching as he scribbles onto the cup that contains your favorite drink.

“Here,” he hands you both the drink and the pen. “This one’s on me. I have to get back to work, but call me, okay? I need to know your ring size.”

You’re left speechless - and maybe swooning a little - until you look down at the cup.

His handwriting is awful and coupled with the curve of the cup it’s impossible to make out more than a few numbers.

What a shame. He’d been really cute.

He doesn’t come in the next day.

And it’s a shame, you think. You would have given him a chance - despite his ridiculous flirting, or maybe because of it.

Maybe he thinks you’re ghosting him now and that sentiment feels so wrong you start looking a little closer at the shops left and right, hoping you’ll find one with the same color scheme as his uniform.

But what if he’s not working at a store? What if he’s some assistant?

Your shoulder’s slump under the realization that you’ll probably not meet him again unless he’s the one initiating.

What a shame. He’d really been cute.

“Missed me?”

“Tanaka!” You almost drop your pitcher of milk. “What took you so long?!”

He reels back in surprise at your outburst.

“Sorry, I didn’t… wait, you really missed me?”

“Not really,” you start, slapping a hand on your mouth when you realize how that sounds, “I mean, that’s not what-... I have been looking for you.”

“You have?” He’s leaning in again now, lips stretched into an almost hopeful smile. “What for?”

“You’ve got the worst handwriting,” you huff out, taking him by surprise again. “I couldn’t decipher your phone number.”

“You wanted to call?” The surprise in his voice is so evident you can tell he’s not had much look with his flirting before. Well, not everyone has great taste.

“Yeah,” you huff again, looking to your left and right before pulling your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it. “Save your number before I change my mind.”

“You won’t regret it,” he insists. Something tells you he’s right.

“How did you guys meet?” Kiyoko asks, “Tanaka mentioned something about a coffee shop.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, “I work there. He asked me to marry him.”

She laughs. “That sounds like him.”

“What are you talking about?” Her husband Kōshi asks, wrapping his arms around her.

“Tanaka asked her to marry him when they first met,” Kiyoko explains simply and you watch with fascination as Kōshi laughs as well.

“Tanaka,” he calls out to your boyfriend, “Where’s the ring?”

Ryūnosuke, to your surprise, blushes a feverish red, hand clutching something in the pocket of his jeans.

Oh…

My Kofi if you'd like to tip me

#yes #Sugawara and Kiyoko are married in this AU #crackships are saying hello #my writing #haikyuu x reader #tanaka x reader #haikyuu x you #tanaka x you #tanaka fluff #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka ryunosuke x reader

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silkythewriter · 17 hours

Note

Hey, hi, hello! I had this idea for a Vox x reader that won’t leave me no matter what I do. I know you’re probably sick of writing for vox so much lately, so no pressure to do this! Take your time and don’t feel pressured to get it out soon! :D

What if Vox had a short s/o- I just barely realized how short the demons in hell can be and I think would be interesting. Like- what if his s/o just constantly walked on their tippy toes so they don’t seem as short as they really are compared to Vox? I also think it would be hilarious if his s/o was ever in an argument and they just randomly got Vox to pick them up because they want a height advantage.

-🃏

★Vox with a short! Reader★

Warnings!: non pure fluff!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: HI OKAY I DUNNO IF THE OG REQUESTER IS EVER GONNA SEE THIS BUT GENUINELY I LOVE WHEN U REQUEST!, and thank you so so so much for checking up on me last time!, again thank you for requesting and I know I have some of your other request in my inbox so I’ll definitely go take a look LOVE YOUR IDEAS SORRY THIS IS LONG (💧｡•́‿•̀｡)

Summary!: Vox with a short! Reader (￣▽￣)

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“Look at me

I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree

And I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud“

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OKAY, OKAY, BUT LIKE HE DEFINITELY LOVES THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE.

Don’t get me wrong, this man would love you whatever height you’re at, but man can he admit he loves when you have to snap your neck up ward just to look him in the eyes. He finds it hilarious.

He teases you a ton, he blames you for his back problems, having to bend a bit down to kiss you. (Definitely not that he looks like a gremlin in his work chair hunched over stacks of papers)

Don’t get me started on the names he gives you, quite literally calls you doll cause he just loves how short and small you are!

Oh and that thingy you do with your tippy toes? To try and seem just a tinny bit taller? He also finds that hilarious!. Literally watched you struggle to balance yourself and purposely scares you so you slip up a bit and you end up landing in his arms. He’s a charmer what can he say?

Hates when someone else teases you though, that’s his bit, who do they think they are???

Likes looming over you as you do something, he can’t and won’t explain why he likes it he just finds it enjoying

For April fools’ he actually left a bunch of stools around your shared apartment for you (which…actually was very much needed for you, which he burst out laughing at)

He does find himself looking at you from afar and spacing off, he just finds you cute, everything About you, even your height!, he can’t help but just admire you for a bit.

Carry’s you bridle style, girl, boy, or in-between doesn’t matter to him. He loves how small you feel in his arms.

Val and velvet calling you his elf is probably the worse teasing you faced there but if it upsets you Vox is quick to silence them.

Now we’re heading into the topic of arguments…(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

“Look at me in my eyes when I talk to you!”you huffed watching him roll his eyes “Fine.” Vox says as he picks you up. You two broke into a giggle after that 😭

Whenever your stern talking him he turns his screen into a camera so you can see what he sees needless to say you didn’t talk to him for a week.

When ever you two sit together he uses you as an arm rest here and there messing up your hair but he really couldn’t care much (ಡ‸ಡ)

Likes having you in his lap as he works like I said in my last post about him, he can’t help it. You truly are like a doll to him and he just enjoys having you in his lap and holding you in his arms.

Cuddling is definitely easier as he opts to big spoon most of the time, but if you figure out a way or want to be big spoon he won’t protest to much. He finds it cute like a little koala hanging off his back ( he has stated this out loud before and burst out laughing with you ( =ω= ) )

Purposely calls you to get an item he intentionally put on the high shelf of a cabinet literally his favorite thing to pull on you

“Honey, mind grabbing the popcorn?, my new show is about to come on” he said sweetly as he pointed to the pantry from the couch. You shrugged “sure” you said getting up as you dug through the pantry’s bottom and middle shelves but coming out empty handed and confused. “I think we ran out…” you trailed off knowing you saw it yesterday in there. “Oh, I must have moved it, check up there” he said in a fake remorseful tone as he again, pointed his finger only to the top shelves nearing the roof. “Vox!” You groaned turning your head up as you heard him chuckle behind you.

Picks you up randomly when your not budging and just takes you himself 😭

Overall, he genuinely finds your height adorable!, and aside from teasing, he does really finds you cute. And is careful not to hurt your feelings most of the time…(unless he’s having a particularly bad day) but always makes up for it!. He loves you, and he’ll make sure you know that. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

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AHHHHH I LOVE WRITING THIS THANK YOU SOSOSOOS MUCH FOR REQUESTING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!

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pinkmirth · 2 days

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Wait imagine being enemies to lovers with alucard

now, i love the sound of this! ( i think about it more than i should, tbh . . .) a mostly harmless , banter-like dynamic is what comes to mind, similar to what he’s got going on with trevor. you’re a sharp woman with an even sharper mouth, and as much as he admires your tenacity, alucard isn’t one to hold back from delivering his own petty retorts. you throw jabs at the vampiric man, and more often than not, he’ll bite.

at times, real disagreements ensue— over the proper way to effectively kill night creatures, how to reduce any casualties, how you think he’s passive, and how he sees you to be so incredibly brash. you’re defensive about doing things your way, as is he. you know how two people are just going at each other’s throats until they’ve found themselves face to face, chests heaving from the heat of their argument? yeah, that’s exactly where you find yourself now; alucard standing only inches before you, blonde brows drawn together with his cheeks dusted red from what you assume to be boiling rage.

once you finally acknowledge how slim the proximity between you is, you step away and coil your expression into one of distaste, attempting to mask the thrill of having him so close that his nose almost brushed yours. “you’re disgustingly pretentious,” you try snapping at him, though he can hear that bitter, mocking tone of your diminish. is it just him, or is he catching onto a bit of . . . softness? from someone like you, towards someone like him? it couldn't be. you can hardly stand him, anyway. he's sure that the only one harboring any affections, even in the slightest, is him. as much as you boil his blood and make his head spin, you're also able to make him laugh, motivate him to new heights. not that he'd ever admit it, though. you'd probably punch him square in the face.

“and you're far too stubborn. it wouldn't kill you to adapt, you know." he grunts, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. would it be wrong of you to admit just how beautiful he is? "it might. i surely won't be taking my chances," you bump past him using your shoulder, and he scoffs upon impact. just as you attempt to zoom past the man, his lithe hand encircles your wrist and pulls you back into him.

against the wall is where you find yourself, with his tall, firm body keeping you pressed there. alucard's grasp is unrelenting, and he's far too strong for you to even try pulling away. his long, golden hair drapes over you, curtaining over you so that the only thing you can see is his cold, glowing eyes. "must you make everything so . . . fucking difficult?" you pray he can't hear it; the erratic thumping of your heart.

“unhand me, you fuck.” he does not. you've pushed him to the edge for the very last time. "why on earth do i put up with you?" he sourly chuckles, as though he's asking himself rather than you. he watches your shaken gaze scour his entire face— from his piercing eyes to his pale-pink lips. you're staring, hard. he much rather prefers gaining this kind of attention from you.

“then don't. i never asked you to." you spit, trying to yank away with no avail. he only shakes his head, closing in on you. at this rate(?his lips and your own could practically touch.

“i can’t just leave you alone,” he rasps. you listen with a deep pause, and your breath is caught in your throat. “haven’t you noticed? as irksome as your company is, i can’t seem to go without it.” you finally understand— alucard, of all people, has taken a liking to you.

“so, you’re attached?” your laughter is taunting, and somehow, he’s come to love it. “unhealthily so.” he breathes out. his bottom lip grazes yours, and you shudder at even the slightest contact. god, how he’s already ruined you. “and what exactly will you do about that, alucard?” you call his name with a feigned amount of spite, and your lashes flutter up at him in that provoking way . . . fuck, he can feel himself getting harder beneath his trousers. alucard gives you this particular look, and that’s how you know he won’t be telling you— the man’s about to take initiative and show you, just as you’re always telling him to.

a deep, breathless kiss is what you get in response, one where his mouth are pressed to yours in a way where you can bite at his lower lip and he can groan into your mouth. he knew you’d like it this way— messy, heated, desperate. you suck at his tongue and cup his face, breaking away only after you’ve gotten a proper taste of him. you feel something firm nudge your thighs, and it gets you to peer down and take notice of his apparent bulge, straining at his fitted black pants.

“god, you’re pathetic,” your lips curve into a smile, teasingly taking his bottom lip between your teeth. you bring your knee up to press against his crotch, and his moan comes out sounding so broken. only the stars above could explain why your insults rouse him as much as they do. alucard pecks your lips once, then twice, with a quickness he knows will leave you chasing for more.

“for you, perhaps i am.”

#thanks so much for dropping by! mwuah 💋#꒰ঌ inbox.ᐟ ໒꒱#( anon.ᐟ )#ৎ୭ ⨾ alucard.ᐟ #꒰ঌ castlevania.ᐟ ໒꒱#꒰ঌ drabbles.ᐟ ໒꒱#꒰ঌ thirsts.ᐟ ໒꒱#alucard x reader #alucard castlevania #castlevania alucard #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #castlevania x reader #alucard smut #castlevania smut #adrian tepes smut #adrian tepes x reader

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 days

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would you still love me... | e.l. x gn!reader

the silence has lasted almost and hour now and you’re worried about even breathing to loudly. it was a stupid question, but ethan said “none of your questions are stupid just unanswered.” and so you push yourself to go forward with asking.

laying your book over your stomach, nails tapping against the paperback while watching the back of ethan’s head turn very time he looked back to his textbook. you didn’t want to distract him from his homework, but you’ve been thinking of this for thirty minutes and can’t wait any longer.

“eth?” voice a bit cracked from disuse. you cleared your throat and it caused ethan to turn his head over his shoulder.

“you okay?” round eyes watching you with concern. he’s such a sweet boyfriend.

you smiled, “yeah, fine. just a quick question for you. and it’s a very serious one so think long and hard about your answer.” raising your brows playfully.

his own thick brows shifted his forehead and he left his desk to join you on his twin bed, the mattress sinking just a little with added weight. “hope this is a hypothetical cause this is making me nervous about giving any wrong answer.” teeth skating across his bottom lip.

“a hypothetical with a serious answer. would you still love me-“ “of course.” ethan jumping in quickly.

you rolled your eyes, “i wasn’t finished. would you still love me… if i was a worm?” eyes honing onto ethan’s perplexed expression. “huh?”

“if i was a worm, would you still love me? a small, slimy little worm. like- like one day a witch curses me and the only way you could tell it’s me is by a small feeling in your chest. and also would you kiss me to break the curse?”

ethan blinked three times in succession then slowly cracked a teasing smile, “that’s your important question? questions, actually.” laughing in your face.

you smacked his thigh, “yes. completely serious to this relationship, ethan. so it’s best you answer.” pouting towards him, upset he’s taking it as a joke when sometimes even a question like this can cause problems later on in a relationship.

“sorry, sorry.” crawling across his bed to sit beside you and lay his head on your shoulder. “of course i’d still love you even if you were a worm. and i’d probably break the curse after a week if that’s the same feeling i always get when i’m around you. everything would be back to normal.” pressing a swift kiss to your shoulder.

“now, can i ask my super important relationship question?” you smacked his thigh again, “don’t make fun of me.”

“i’m not. i actually have one that’s really important for you to answer.” moving again so he sat across from you. his eyes kept darting around and he was twisting his fingers and biting his lip, “it’s just a hypothetical, eth. nothing to worry about.” wanting to ease whatever fear he might be hiding.

“would- would you still love me if- if i killed someone for you?” stuttering through his question, eyes not directly on your face.

your mouth pinched to the side as you thought, “well that depends.” and that caused ethan to perk up and look you at you, “on what?”

you shrugged, “who’d you kill? and was it to defend me or was it just cause you wanted to?”

ethan was quiet for a moment and then replied as he looked you dead in the eyes, “i’d kill anyone that treats you wrongly and it will always be to defend you. you’re the most important person in my life and i’d do anything to keep you safe.”

you smiled, touched at how much he loves you.

a/n: thank you @websterss for this prompt. ill try to do the other one soon.

#erin writes ethan #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry scream #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry blurb #ethan landry x gn!reader #ethan landry fanfiction

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chirpsythismorning · 11 months

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Milkvans on Twitter < 48 hrs ago: Byler stans HATE El, they just pretend they don’t. At least us milkvans are honest about hating Will.

New tumblr account < 2 hrs ago: El is useless and she should die. Also Will has powers.

#byler #me a willel twin truther: am i a joke to you?#honey #sweetheart #if you hate will then hate him #no need to project onto bylers to feel better about yourself 😭#we love el in these parts #get used to it #you aren’t gonna find anyone wishing death on el or anyone in the party here quite frankly #give it up #you ever think that hating Will vehemently is probably not the way the show was intended to be watched…?#and if you feel that way you’re probably watching it wrong?#same goes for el #theres a reason bylers don’t hate el to the degree milkvans hate will #you guys feel threatened over a ship…#ppl only get hostile and start harassing complete strangers when they are feeling insecure #unbothered ppl stay in their lanes and eat their food in peace #maybe go do the same instead of stressing yourself out by projecting hate with pettiness #im willing to bet the antibyler account and this new one are the same person..

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j-esbian · 2 years

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i am once again begging people to learn how to recommend things. i’ve been seeing a couple posts lately about a league of their own that have honestly done a really poor job of selling it, not least because none of them actually say what it’s about

one essentially said “you guys need to watch it because it’s got queer woc, and if you don’t watch it, we’ll never get a season 2” which is coming at it backwards. why do i care about getting another season of a show i haven’t watched yet?

another said “if you liked our flag means death you should watch this, because they’re both gay and about real-life historical figures” which, while technically true, is missing the point of both shows. ofmd is a comedy about pirates in the early 16th century. a league of our own, from what i can tell (i had to google it, because none of those posts mention any of this) seems to be a drama about baseball in the early 20th century. what about those is similar

do we really need to keep having this discussion about not tokenizing stories?? because it does it a disservice to boil it down to “it’s good and you should watch it because it’s Diverse”

it’s like if i said, “hmm, i want to go clothes shopping, my closet feels stale,” and you told me, “i have just the thing,” and tried to give me a blank cardboard box with something inside. “what is it?” i ask, and you tell me, “it’s purple.”

but is it a top? pants? i don’t really wear skirts so i wouldn’t be interested. is it a turtleneck? i like those sometimes, but it’s really hard to pull them off. what material is it? i have sensory issues and i don’t like polyester. what if we’re not the same size and it doesn’t fit?

“it’s purple” you tell me. “you like purple. you’ll like it, trust me.”

#also the fact that everyone says to watch it but no one has said where #which i realize is probably because they have 🏴‍☠️ and expect other people will also #but it’s a bad habit to get into. if you’re recommending something you need to let people know how to get it #spoiler culture definitely contributes to this too. people don’t want to tell you anything that happens in case it Ruins the Surprise #i’m going to be generous and say that maybe these posts were written for a small circle of people and i am not in that conversation #but it’s something i see all the fucking time from like. everyone i know #i don’t taken reccs from my sibling or their gf anymore lol #like. boiling something down to ‘it’s gay so it’s your duty to watch it’ makes it feel like a chore #the last time i listened to that argument was years ago bc everyone was talking about steven universe #which like. was mediocre imo. i don’t think i’d ever have watched it otherwise but i didn’t hate it #i never really felt a spark of ‘oh i like this’ but i kept making myself keep up with it because I Had To #like don’t get me wrong. i will probably watch this show bc i love the 40s aesthetic #but y’all are doing it and yourselves no favors by talking about things in this way #i very much DO like purple but i’m gonna need a little more information first #mine

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robinsteves · 2 years

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leah is SO joyce coded!!! i think shelby would like nancy the most tho

leah’s anxieties, and her refusal to back down from them, are so aligned with joyce byers that it almost personally hurts my feelings— don’t forget how almost everyone doubts them. if anything, it’s like people go along with their theories out of pity (until eventually proven wrong, of course). I forget who on here described it as a “category 5 woman moment” but I now headcanon that faber has that exact phrase, verbatim, written down about 20 times in leah’s file

I feel like shelby would be the biggest stranger things enjoyer out of all the girls. I can’t decide if she’d be someone who generally watches a lot of tv, I’m leaning towards no, but I could eaaaaasily see, like, becca being someone who did, and so she picked it up from her as a recommendation. obviously she would like nancy, she’d definitely think shes super fucking cool, but I’m not sure who her overall favorite would be? shes probably closest to will on an emotional basis but, like I concluded with leah, that doesn’t mean he would be her favorite. I think the only one of the girls who would inarguably prioritize what character(s) they connect with the most in media is nora. maybe martha too? the rest would try to ignore their emotions and focus on who they find funny or cute instead because #repression. or they just truly would not give a fuck and only watch something to be entertained, which is kinda how I view fatin… wow I wish I was normal like that. anyway, it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if steve was shelby’s #1. I can hear her being like “hes so sweet now!!!!” lol. or el <3

#does this even make any sense #also pre-island shelby and post-island shelby are kinda different #theres obviously a thread that runs through them both but #post-island shelby would love nancy more than pre-island shelby #and robin too #either way shes an el and steve lover I just feel it in my bones #dot would like dustin #toni would like max and lucas #fatin would like robin #nora would LOVE love LOVE will and el #martha would also be a steve girly but ONLY season 2 and beyond steve #rachel wouldn’t watch it #and the only reason toni did is because martha does #but if rachel did I think she’d like lucas the most #if you disagree with any of these then well um you’re probably right but I don’t care #oh btw becca loved joyce and el #that part you legally cannot tell me I’m wrong about #savannahs think-pieces #the wilds #leah rilke #joyce byers #shelby goodkind #stranger things

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st5lker · 7 months

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i think anyone who is genuinely worried about their mental health bc of the situation in gaza probably needs to reformat their way of thinking about it. the answer is not to take a “mental health break” where you pretend whats happening in gaza doesnt exist and stop being vocal and refuse to hear people around you who are vocal. the way to do that “mental health break” much more effectively and not selfishly would be to remove yourself from constant streams of idiotic and/or murderously evil people. stop watching tiktok debates. stop reading genocidal reddit comments and news articles from sources you KNOW want palestine dead. stop putting the focus on the murderers and keep your attention on sympathy and love for the murdered, on hope and optimism (even if naive) and activism to do your part in making things better. dont get me wrong the murderers still need to be dealt with but if you as an individual feel like you’re getting too overwhelmed with despair to be helpful, the answer is to shift your focus away from those causing the despair, not to ignore and abandon those who have to actually live through it.

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tired-biscuit · 2 months

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18+ MDNI, fem!reader

having this really specific — and kind of goofy — thought about getting a tiny rubber duck as like a joke gift for your boyfriend yuuji, and him making sure it’s turned around whenever you guys fuck in the shower.

you’re having a full blown make out session and the water is hot as it runs down you both — yes, you’re squeezed together that tightly. his pink hair is dripping wet, it sticks to his forehead, and his mouth has formed into this adorable ‘o’ shape as he pants and stammers and grunts from how good your touch feels as you stroke him.

he’s got one palm pressed against the tiles that you’re leaning against, the other one is cupping your pussy. his fingers lazily circle your clit as his tongue tangles with yours; the tips nudging your warm entrance every so often and gathering the sticky arousal there before it can be washed away by the water because he knows he won’t be able to push that fat cock of his into you otherwise when the time comes for it.

however, when that time does indeed come and you hint at getting slammed, yuuji is pulling back, his honey-coloured eyes suddenly open wide. he’s still breathing like he’s just ran a marathon instead of standing in the shower and his broad chest heaves up and down as he turns his head to the side in one sharp movement; right in the direction of the spot where you both keep your shampoo bottles.

“yuuji…? what’s wrong?” you ask, eyelids still heavy with lust. it makes your vision somewhat blurry.

“just a sec,” he rasps, searching amongst the bottles. “gotta make sure we don’t have an audience.”

“an audience?” you repeat.

“yep!” he says, popping the p. “i meant this little sucker right… here.”

after a little rummaging, he finds the thing he’s been looking for: a small rubber ducky that you’d gotten him months ago as a means to cheer him up after he’d had a particularly bad day.

you watch, brow quirked in quiet amusement, as he carefully flips it around then, making sure it remains in the same exact spot, but this time with its little beak turned towards the shower wall instead of you.

he treats it with such care, like it’s made out of gold instead of plain vinyl. knowing him, he probably does see it that way and it makes you huff a laugh.

he’s just so goddamn endearing, isn’t he?

seemingly pleased with his actions, yuuji swiftly focuses his attention back to you. he smiles that beaming lover boy grin that you feel weak in the knees for, and his hands are loving but firm as he grabs you by the hips, silently urging you to press your front against the tiles instead of your back.

“okay, your turn now.”

with how hard he is, something tells you he won’t treat you as gently as he did his present.

#this was fun to think about ok!!!!!!!!!#yuuji x reader #yuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #biscuit drabbles

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hxltic · 10 months

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bein yelled at by ghost. you’ve been in the army this long, been yelled at by sergeants and others alike, majority men—obviously—but none of them like this. The others you didn’t even flinch as they screamed directly into your ears, probably even worse than other men just to intimidate you as a woman.

You caught him in a bad mood and it seemed completely unrelated to work, but as his partner and soldier, he had to tell you things that you didn’t want to hear.

“Hey, I got your message Simon, didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t let it happen again.” You place some things of yours down on the dresser as you enter his quarters. He’s standing there in thought, unreadable.

His mask is still on with his gear connected to his body.

“Damn right, you won’t.” He gruffs, heavy in his accent.

All you could do was question what this meant. Would he not let you do it again? Were you being thrown in a different squad?

“What does that mean?” You stop your moving for a direct answer. You almost took that personally.

He explains, “You made an impulsive decision that would have led to half our unit being taken out. The amount we sent to that building was more than usual.”

“I understand, and that was on me. In my defense though: it was a suggestion in the moment, one that the other members also formally agreed to. It wasn’t just me.” You giggle, even though you’re aware these aren’t giggling matters. You just needed to lighten the mood.

“There were 35 men in that building alone. Led by Gaz and König!”

He fully pronounced the words, turning to you aggressively. Had you known this was the severity of his mood, you never would’ve taunted him in any type of way. This was when he had to be your boss.

“I understand but-“

“It doesn’t matter who agreed! You are seen as a leader standing next to me and you introduced the idea. I cannot be there to stop you every time you do something stupid.” His eyes were laced with anger, an anger that arose out of the protection built for his squad over the years.

“Every time?”

He said that like you did something stupid every day. He’s had bad missions before too, and we should all just be happy everyone made it back safe. Well, maybe one or two. He quickly turns to you, but stays in his spot.

“Every bloody time. It’s the mission before that. Then that. You cannot keep jeopardizing this team.”

Despite the offense you took to his words, you understood him.

“I understand.” You speak. For the night, you split off into your own quarters, not wanting to anger him any more than you already have. You’ll just have to be better with your decisions. There’s more than just your life on the line now.

The next few days, you’ve been kind of stand off-ish, hoping he’d come to you when he was feeling so. Instead, you were all assigned a mission, one they’d put you in charge of. Naturally, you’d felt it best to prove yourself and win his attention back. He was still Simon, and you still loved him.

. .

You all returned back to base with a more than successful mission under your belt. This made you extremely happy, as it’s finally a good time to speak to him.

You approach his door, then knock. You never knock.

A deep, “Come in,” is all you get.

You walk in to him sitting at his desk, his back to the door.

“Hey,” is all you can muster. You’d had the balls to walk in, but Simon is still a scary man. Your hands come down from his shoulders to massage over his biceps.

“I’m sorry for the past few days. I hope I redeemed myself?” You try.

“Hm,” He grunts, standing from his desk and filing papers into the drawers. This made you a little wary.

“Are you feeling okay Simon?” You fiddle your fingers together as you watch him walk around to the other side of the table.

“Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Your hands drop. You’d expected something, or some type of praise. Instead, you got this.

“What’s wrong? I thought I did good this time?”

“Is there something you want?” He shoots back. You glance at him, then around the room, then the floor. “No? Alright then.” He continues on as if you aren’t there. You stand in disbelief.

“What has got you so upset Simon? You can talk to me.”

“Did ya come in my room with nothin to say? What are you here for?” he snaps back.

This was a knife in the heart. You’d been terrified of the business portion of your relationship engulfing the rest, but you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe it wasn’t you.

“Literally what is your problem?” You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. It didn’t feel right yelling at him.

You attempt to walk to his front, hoping that seeing your face would bring him some sense of calmness or bring him back down to Earth, but that was long gone. He’d lost all professionalism or softness.

Or maybe that was just it, and there was too much professionalism.

You reach him and plead, “Simon please, let me help y-“

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t need your goddamn help!”

His head whips around, and that was all it took for you to realize the severity of everything going on. You’d physically retracted back and flinched. It’d been a long time since you’d done that.

“What do you want?” He throws the pen he’d held to the wall, and if you could see, you’d say there was a visible dent. That was your second step back, and you only took more as he came forward powerfully, his frame enlarging with each step.

“I-“

“Do you want me to praise you for your fuckin’ job? Now that you’ve decided to take it seriously?” He growls.

This was completely untrue, it wasn’t easy getting into 141, and it didn’t take anything but seriousness. Despite this, it didn’t take away from how his voice seemed to reverberate through your bones. You were retreating from him the best you could, but you didn’t want to look away, afraid it’d make him angrier.

Your hands felt around behind you as you got closer and closer to the wall, but not before detecting a small table that almost had you stumbling backwards when you knocked it over. Along with some more pens, a vase fell, shattering about and leaving tiny shards for your feet to step on the one day you decided not to wear the house slippers Gaz always made fun of you for.

He could literally take your breath away, but the piercing sensation under you couldn’t compare to the expression he wore that was dripping with malice. You felt like prey under a predator, caged to the wall with nowhere to go.

Your back hit with a thump, your hands flying back to the wall but close to your figure. You’d wanted to put them between you two, hoping it’d prevent him from coming closer, but it wouldn’t work. So now you search for separation by forcing your cheek against the wall, eyes frantically darting back and forth between nothing in particular and the raging man towering over you. You don’t think you could look at him anymore.

You whisper, “S-Simon. Please-”

He was so close his breath was to your ear as he leaned over. You were scared. In fact, you’d spoke it so lightly, you don’t even remember if you did or if it was just a thought.

“This,” he was referring to today, “is absolute bare minimum. Your job is to take orders, then get it done with the least. Casualties. Possible. Do you understand me?” He enunciates every part of the sentence, every word, so deep and low but strong that you had no choice but for it to be engraved in your brain. He was infuriated.

You didn’t want to breath too hard, afraid it’d also upset him, so your shortness of breath had you quickly nodding. The last words had you trembling.

“Do you fuckin’ understand me?” His words seem to shake the room, booming loud and clear enough to make you flinch again and your eyes squeeze shut. It was even worse than before—you were terrified.

He made you feel like a little girl again, answering to her father that she could never seem to impress no matter what she did. That’s why she joined the army. So she could be in charge.

But it didn’t stop because your eyes had to blink open to reality, and the time bomb called a response was ticking, just like his already gone patience. It also didn’t stop things from getting blurry, and before you knew or could stop it, there was a tear gathering that eventually released to your cheek.

“Y-yes sir,” you whimper on unsteady breath, Closing your eyes in prayer he would retreat. He was there for a little longer, but once you felt his presence leave back into the heart of his room, you still didn’t move an inch. You eventually shuffled uncomfortably to the door, not even feeling okay enough to close it behind you. You dashed as fast as one could go with millions of tiny glass in their feet, and before tending to it, you shut your door and fell to your butt with your back pressed against it and cried.

It’d been so long since you’ve cried over this specific issue; you thought you’d left it behind you. You technically had, but it was reawakened. The mission fatigued you, and you were so exhausted, but the only reason you didn’t lay your head down in the bed and fall asleep was the glass that would distribute painfully throughout your sheets.

You wrapped your feet and slipped into the night with the occasional sob.

. .

Sometime in the night, your locked room was intruded, assumingely by the one man graced with a key. Large hands scooped you up effortlessly, before bringing your head to one shoulder. You felt warm lips seep into your forehead.

He whispered things to you, things you couldn’t hear, but your head was held protectively with his strong hand over your ear. You’d been rested in another bed, one that smelled like him. He removed the tape from your feet and actually cleaned your wounds before tucking you in and sliding in beside you.

He felt like he didn’t deserve it, the guilt enough to bring him to tears, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. So instead, he tucks your head into his body closer, praying the sleeping version of you would recognize this as an apology until the morning.

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tender-rosiey · 3 months

Text

“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)

a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.

his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.

not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.

no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.

he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.

it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”

“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”

“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”

he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”

a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.

d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”

“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.

he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”

but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.

you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.

your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”

she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!

at least, that’s what he thinks.

d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.

how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.

his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.

a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.

GETO SUGURU:

geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.

he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.

to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.

aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.

for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.

that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.

each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.

and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.

another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.

that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.

so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.

“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”

you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”

he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”

one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.

now, you have two crying babies.

congratulations!

so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.

they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.

he should probably stop calling them that though.

NANAMI KENTO:

now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.

it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.

she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.

that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.

he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.

like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.

however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.

and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.

he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.

she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”

anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?

so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.

you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”

gojo gasps, “what?!”

you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”

nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.

with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”

she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”

“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”

a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”

your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense.

gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.

meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.

the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.

everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.

the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.

you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.

you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.

“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.

“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”

your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”

the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.

sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”

your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.

swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.

while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.

when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”

“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.

you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”

sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”

s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.

your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.

you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.

s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.

why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.

he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.

toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”

shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.

toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”

toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”

your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”

another time was when you guys grocery shopping.

you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?

so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.

megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.

to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.

you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.

so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”

“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”

“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”

he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”

“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.

“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”

apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”

toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.

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