#red and teal as you move it.

[lucalicatteart]

 sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~

[keiossance]

mercedes is gone on my dashboard

it's ferrari (and prolly audi) now

[mg549]

5 years in review (2018-2022)

[fanaticsnail]

You're Angry at the Tall Men

Masterlist Here

I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings

Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo

Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.

First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.

(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.

Buggy: 6’3

“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.

“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.

“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.

“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”

“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”

Shanks: 6’6

“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.

“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.

“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.

Mihawk 6’6:

“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.

As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.

But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.

“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.

“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.

“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.

“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.

“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”

Sir Crocodile 10’

Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration. 

“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.

“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.

“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.

“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response. 

“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer. 

“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”

“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,

“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.

“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue. 

Corazon 9’7

“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.

When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.

As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.

“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.

He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.

Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you. 

“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more. 

He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth. 

“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”

He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.

“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger. 

“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier. 

“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger. 

“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.

“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”

Doflamingo 10’

He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.

“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.

“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.

“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.

“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.

“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.

He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:

“Mmm, Harder.”

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Friends Don't

Word Count: 4.2k

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Y/N comes to a startling revelation when brewing Amortentia in potions class

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

Meet me in the Common Room, midnight - S 

Y/N looked across the cauldrons at Sebastian and nodded once, a small smile on her face. He grinned back, before turning to face Professor Sharp before he could get caught not paying attention. 

“Is that a love letter from Sallow?” Imelda leant forward, a teasing smirk on her face.

“Come off it,” Y/N rolled her eyes and tucked the note into her textbook. “You know we’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at friends that way,” she shot a look over at Sebastian, who was standing over his cauldron with a confused look on his face. His brow was furrowed as he looked between his textbook and the potion he was making, which was supposed to be a teal colour, but was currently navy blue. “Point proven.” Y/N turned back to her with an unimpressed glare as she stirred her own potion (which was the correct shade of teal).

“You need a new hobby. Clearly Quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough.”

“Watching you and Sallow pine after each other like lovesick Crup puppies is my new hobby.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re in denial,” Imelda smiled sweetly as Y/N and turned back to her potion as Professor Sharp made his rounds by their station. He stopped by Sebastian’s smoking cauldron with a sigh and quiet reprimand (You’re usually better than this Mr Sallow) before moving onto the next group of students.

“If you’ve been following the instructions in your books,” Professor Sharp called out, “your potions should start turning pink as you stir it. Once it’s the right shade you may place the final ingredient in.”

Y/N watched in fascination as the contents of her cauldron began to change colour with every clockwise rotation of her wand. Although she had now been attending Hogwarts for two years, magic never failed to amaze her. She couldn’t believe she had gone the majority of her life not knowing it existed. The colour eventually shifted to the pale pink that Professor Sharp had spoken about and Y/N added the crushed moonstone and watched it take on a pearlescent sheen. 

“Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Y/L/N. Would you care to share with the class?” Sharp loomed over her shoulder, peering into her cauldron. Y/N watched as the class looked over curiously and caught Sebastian’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with her, and looked down at her potion as if to say well, go on then. She leant forward to smell the contents of the cauldron, trying to decipher the scents coming from in front of her. Petrichor, wildflowers and…oh. Y/N blinked and leant back so she could pick up the coffee beans Sharp had left on each station so they had a palate cleanser. After a quick smell of the bitter grounds she turned to her cauldron again. Oh.

“Well?” Imelda asked her.

“If it’s all the same, Professor. I’d rather not,” Y/N muttered, her face flaming. The class broke into a chorus of whispers, all trying to guess what scent had turned the Hero of Hogwarts a pretty shade of pink. Although it was hidden well, Y/N watched as Sharp’s mouth twitched up in amusement before he moved on from her.

“What did you smell?” Imelda whispered to her. Y/N shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn’t tell anyone she had smelled Sebastian’s smoky cologne, the one that seemed to stick to him all day even though he barely used it. Imelda looked between Y/N’s red face and her cauldron before looking across the station to Sebastian and a knowing smirk fell on her features. “Sebastian…” Y/N shot her a warning look, which Imelda pointedly ignored. “What do you smell?”

“Nice try, Imelda,” he chuckled and stirred his own potion. “I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re both no fun.”

“Just because yours is probably something predictable like broom polish doesn’t mean we’re not fun for not wanting to share,” Y/N shot. Imelda let out a laugh and patted her friend’s hand. 

“Careful there Y/L/N, I’ve still got some cards up my sleeve for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Y/N glared at the girl next to her, stomach churning nervously. Imelda just grinned at her before adding her own crushed moonstone to her cauldron, signalling the end of the conversation. Y/N was vaguely aware of Sebastian watching them curiously from across the potions station and turned to face the raven-haired girl next to her, clutching the sleeve of her robes. “Imelda.”

“Calm down,” she laughed quietly and leant in so no one else could hear. “Your not-so-secret crush on Sallow is safe with me. I actually quite enjoy watching you two act like you don’t have feelings for each other.” With a wave of her wand, Imelda tidied her potions station and left the class swiftly, just as the bell rang outside. Y/N cursed the day she met the girl, and more specifically, became friends with her after completing all of her stupid broom trials, and quickly cleaned her own station before leaving the classroom. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the Great Hall for dinner that she realised what Imelda had implied with her parting words. 

Sebastian couldn’t have feelings for me, she wondered, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, could he? No, that’s ridiculous, she shook her head to rid herself of the assumption.

“Careful, Y/N,” a hand grabbed the back of her robes and gently tugged her back a couple of steps before she could fall off the Grand Staircase. “You’re usually more aware than this, where did you go?” Sebastian looked concerned and pulled her away from a crowd of students that was walking their way. Y/N looked up at him, craning her neck more than she used to when they met in fifth year. Sometime in the summer between fifth and sixth year Sebastian had really come into his own. He had always been attractive, but somewhere along the way, without her really noticing, he had suddenly shot up and filled out. The jumper he wore to fight the perpetual chill in the dungeons did little to cover up the muscle that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

“Dinner, I’m starving,” she lied, freeing her robes from his grasp so she could continue to walk towards the Great Hall. “How’s Ominis? I haven’t heard from him much since he went on his unsanctioned visit to see Anne.” Although he grumbled like he was annoyed, Y/N knew deep down Sebastian was a little pleased that his best friend and sister had finally started to court a few months ago. Apparently watching Ominis pretend he hadn’t been in love with her since they were children was sickening to say the least. 

Y/N was relieved when Anne reached out to Sebastian at the beginning of their final year at Hogwarts and extended an olive branch. She watched as Sebastian had read the initial letter, a wide smile on his face and unshed tears in his eyes before he brandished the piece of parchment at her excitedly. The twins weren’t as close as they used to be, but they were slowly mending the bridge that had burned down with their Uncle’s untimely death. 

“Where do you keep going? What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked her. His hand came out to smooth the crease in between her eyes, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. 

“You.”

“Oh really?” he arched an eyebrow, a sly smile falling on his lips. “Is this where you finally admit I’m the most handsome student at Hogwarts?”

“I thought you had three years worth of self-imposed trophies to say just that.”

“Yes, but none of those mean anything without your agreement.” Something danced behind Sebastian’s eyes, a look Y/N couldn’t quite decipher. She was used to his charming nature and the confidence he seemed to exude, but every so often he said something and paired it with a look that was different. He looked…uncertain? Hopeful, maybe. 

“I didn’t realise my opinions held so much weight for you.” 

“And here I thought it was obvious that I hold you in the highest regard.” The air around them changed. Y/N couldn’t pinpoint it exactly - it wasn’t tense, but she felt a palpable shift in energy. She looked away from him and hoped he couldn’t see the blush that she felt rise to her cheeks as she walked into the Great Hall and made her way to the Slytherin table. She found Poppy seated with Imelda, heads bent together as they chatted quietly. They looked up as Sebastian and Y/N sat down, and a downright devilish grin was plastered on Imelda’s face. 

“The rumours about what you can smell in Amortentia and refused to share in class are already circling.”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned as Sebastian filled her plate with food. 

“The majority seem to think you can smell something that relates to Sebastian or Ominis,” Poppy added.

“Ominis?” Sebastian stopped filling Y/N’s glass with pumpkin juice, his tone incredulous. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“How would you know?” Imelda shot at him. “Has Y/N told you what she could smell?”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous,” Y/N cut in, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the large bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned some onto Sebastian’s plate. 

“It’s not that bad, Y/N,” Poppy gave her a reassuring smile. “I think it’s sweet. What you can actually smell, that is.” Y/N paused, the piece of chicken intended for Sebastian’s plate wobbling precariously on the serving spoon.

“How do you know what she can smell?” Sebastian looked up at her sharply, though there was no malice in his voice.

“Imelda told me.”

“Imelda,” Y/N hissed at the girl across the table from her at the same time Sebastian gave her a reproachful look. 

“You told Imelda?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Y/N protested. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She could hear a few of her classmates around them mutter about her, all supplying options for what she could smell in the love potion. “I think I’m going to grab something from the kitchens instead,” Y/N stood and quickly made her way out of the hall before any of them could follow her. The moment Y/N was out of earshot Imelda leant across the table to hit Sebastian across the back of his head.

“Ow,” he rubbed his head and gave the raven-haired girl a disapproving glare, “what was that for?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Sebastian Sallow.”

“Imelda…” Poppy nudged the girl gently before offering Sebastian a sympathetic smile. “What she means is - ”

“Oh, I have no doubt she meant it.” Later Sebastian would vehemently deny to anyone that he was pouting like a scolded child after being accosted by Imelda Reyes, but at that current moment all he could do was sulk as he pushed some peas around his plate. 

“I did,” Imelda offered him a saccharine smile and shrugged unapologetically at Poppy, who looked disappointed at the pair. “If you don’t go after what you want, Sallow, others are going to take it from you.”

“Y/N isn’t some belonging that people can just have, least of all me. She’s a person with her own thoughts and feelings.”

“Who said I was talking about Y/N?” Sebastian’s head shot up to meet Imelda’s self-satisfied smirk and let out a low groan. “My point is,” she continued as he (rather dramatically, Imelda thought) lay his head down to rest on the table, “you’re in Slytherin. We’re ambitious to a fault, and when we know what we want we strive to achieve and obtain it. What’s stopping you from going after Y/N?”

“We’re just friends.” The lie Sebastian muttered on a daily basis felt thin to even his ears, and clearly neither Imelda or Poppy was impressed either. 

“Why could you smell her in the Amortentia then?” Poppy asked.

“How did you know I - oh. I’m impressed, Sweeting. That was very Slytherin of you,” Sebastian laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “What would you both have me say then? Y/N I’ve been in love with you since fifth year when we fought a troll together in Hogsmeade?” he asked rhetorically. If his face wasn’t red with embarrassment before, it was now as the words slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t - I mean, I do? I think. I didn’t mean - ” His stammers were interrupted by Poppy’s quiet laugh. 

“Oh Sebastian, you don’t need a pair of working eyes to know that you’re in love with Y/N Y/L/N. I think the only person oblivious to your feelings is Y/N herself.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin our friendship?” he asked quietly. The girls shared a look, and if Sebastian would have looked at either of them he would have noticed a silent conversation happening between the pair.

“Okay, look. I told Y/N I wasn’t going to tell you this, but you’re behaving like a lovesick second year and it’s making me sick,” Imelda flicked a pea at Sebastian in disdain. “Now, I can’t confirm it, but I strongly suspect that her Amortentia did smell of you.” Sebastian gave her a disbelieving look and sent the pea back across the table at her. “I agree that it lacks proof, but I do happen to know for a fact that she does have feelings for you. She told me herself.”

“She what?” That caught Sebastian’s attention, and that of a few people around them as well. Imelda shot them all a glare and they quickly turned back to their own conversations.

“If you tell her I told you I will hunt you down like the animal you are and use you as target practice for the beaters. I know where you sleep, Sallow.”

“She…” Sebastian was at a loss for words as he looked at Poppy for confirmation, who nodded uncertainly in agreement. “I need to go speak to her,” he muttered, more to himself than the girls in front of him. He continued to murmur quietly to himself as he hauled himself up and out of the Great Hall, his expression wavering between surprise and bliss as he left.

“When did Y/N tell you she liked Sebastian?” Poppy asked once he had left.

“Oh, she didn’t. But I think we can both agree neither of them was going to do anything without a nudge, don’t you? Could you pass the pumpkin juice?”

*

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as she snuck back into the Slytherin Common Room. It was nearing midnight, and although she wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed she trudged through the silent room instead to sit and wait for Sebastian by the fireplace. After leaving the Great Hall, Y/N had trekked her way up to the Room of Requirement to spend some time taking care of the various magical beasts in her vivarium. The animals couldn’t pester her like people did, asking her questions she didn’t want to answer, and worst, ones she didn’t have the answers to. She couldn’t understand why everyone was pushing their way into her business; why did it matter what (or who, she thought dryly) she could smell in the Amortentia? So what if she could smell Sebastian, and who was Imelda freaking Reyes to tell her she had feelings for her best friend.

Well, Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she stared into the dying embers, he was rather handsome. Something he would take great satisfaction in if she admitted it out loud. And she supposed, if she was really thinking about it, he was quite funny, and charming, and smart, and possibly the kindest person she knew, and - oh Merlin, she had feelings for Sebastian Sallow. 

He was her best friend, and hadn’t her aunt always told her those made for the best life partners? Not someone who you just existed with, but someone who knew you, knew every part of you, and would still stand by you. Not that she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with him. Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks as an unwarranted image of her in a white dress and Sebastian looking absolutely striking in a suit came to mind. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A low voice startled her, and Y/N pressed a hand to her chest as she took note of Sebastian sitting in the armchair next to her. He bit his lip in amusement at her shock, but was smart enough to keep his comments to himself.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough to watch you groan to yourself twice and turn the most enticing shade of pink,” he teased. “Where do you keep going today?”he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sebastian offered. Yes, Y/N thought to herself, you can start by bathing in bubotuber pus.

“I’ll be fine, Sebastian. There’s no need to fret.”

“You battle trolls for fun, I think there is some need to fret.”

“You’ve battled more than one troll with me, too.”

“Ah, but there’s the obvious difference. You don’t worry for me the same way.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N sat upright in her chair, a withering glare on her features. “Of course I worry about you, you idiot.”

“Why is everyone calling me an idiot tonight?”

“Clearly it’s warranted,” Y/N sniffed in annoyance and sank back down into her seat. How dare he say she didn’t worry for him, all she’s done for the past two years was worry about him.

Sebastian could tell he had said the wrong thing. He knew - of course he knew - that she worried and cared for him. No one else would have witnessed and experienced everything they had together in their fifth year and still stood by him afterwards. It was never a question to Y/N whether he needed forgiving. Even Ominis, who had been with him since before he could remember, needed a while to come back around and speak to Sebastian again, but she didn’t. Granted, it had taken a couple of weeks as things had happened in quick succession, from the death of his uncle, to fighting Harlow, then Rookwood, to finally defeating Ranrok; but there Y/N was, sitting next to him at Professor Fig’s memorial, silent tears running down her face as she clutched his hand tightly for comfort. 

“I apologise,” he reached out to take her hand. “It seems I’m not quite done putting my foot in my mouth whenever you’re around.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Her words were flat, but she squeezed his hand back gently to let him know all was forgiven. Sebastian had the overwhelming urge to take Y/N into his arms and never let go, but also reprimand her at the same time. She was always the first to call him out when he was being a prat - which, he admitted to himself, happened more often than not - but she always forgave him for it moments later.

He took a moment to watch as she stared into the flames once more. His eyes roamed over her features, from her brilliant eyes, down the slope of her nose and rested on her mouth. Y/N could give any Ravenclaw a run for their money with the amount of wit she fired, and even though Sebastian was often on the receiving end, he loved it. He loved the way she rolled her eyes at him when she shot a particularly sarcastic or dry comment his way; he loved when she teased him and made him question his sanity and oh, he adored it when she would shoot him a rare, flirtatious comment.

He loved her.

The thought took his breath from him. He had said it out loud in the Great Hall earlier, but it was unintentional, and he wasn’t quite sure of it then, but now…now he was sure. He was in love with her. Every part. He wanted to share every day, every night, every moment with her. 

“You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied without thinking. He watched as a faint blush dusted Y/N’s cheeks and his heart stuttered in his chest. How could he ever doubt how he felt for her? “What did you smell in the Amortentia?” Sebastian asked, a sudden surge of confidence hitting him.

“Sebastian,” Y/N sighed heavily, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Y/N turned to look at him, a pleading look on her face. She was tired, so tired, at having to pretend she wasn’t irrevocably head over heels for the man next to her. She feared if he asked her any more questions he would see straight through her, and then their friendship would be ruined and he would want nothing more to do with her. No, the logical part of her brain replied, Sebastian is too nice for that. Instead he would let her down gently, with the soft tone one would reserve for an injured animal or a sick child.

“I could smell you,” he blurted out. Y/N blinked once, not quite sure she had heard him properly, before looking over at him slowly. “Your perfume, to be more specific. And the smell of rain, from the night we danced out in it. Also those strawberry tarts you love to eat at breakfast.” He stood from his seat before sinking to his feet so he could kneel in front of her on the stone floor. “All I could smell was you.”

“Sebastian…”

“What did you smell?” he asked her again, a hint of desperation in his eyes. She thought there was nothing more between them but friendship, that he could never look at her the way she wanted him t, but the look in his eyes right now…Merlin, how could she ever think that? Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down at him and watched as his hands came to rest on her knees gently. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material of her trousers and all she could think of was more. She wanted more. “Darling? I’m putting my heart on the line here.”

“It was you,” she whispered after a moment, afraid to say it much louder. “You, when we danced in the rain. You, when you showed me the clearing full of wildflowers. Just…you. It was all you, Sebastian.” She met his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s always been you, I just didn’t realise it until lately.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he teased lightly. He raised his hand to wipe away a stray tear, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” Y/N let out a sound that was between a sob and a chuckle and slid down so she was kneeling on the floor with Sebastian. “I think I was too scared to tell you before, so I pretended like it didn’t exist. These feelings have been bottled up for so long, only to be let out now…” she wiped away her own tears this time and offered him a rueful smile. 

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “it seems we’ve both been a little slow, hm? How could you not see I’m hopelessly head over heels for you?” He rested his forehead on hers, watching with slight satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation and longing. “You have been, and always will be, my one and only.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” Y/N protested weakly. Sebastian chuckled quietly and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, and knew she was deep in thought when she started to chew on her lower lip thoughtfully. 

“Come back to me, what are you thinking?”

“It’s highly improper.”

“My favourite,” he smiled crookedly and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Tell me.” Instead,  after a brief moment of hesitation, Y/N closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his gently. She pulled away all too soon for Sebastian’s liking, her eyes darting across his face for any reaction he disapproved of - or worst, didn’t enjoy - their chaste kiss. He pulled her back in slowly, giving her more than enough time to pull away should she choose to do so, and pressed his lips back to her sweetly. 

From the other end of the Common Room, Imelda watched quietly as the couple kissed each other with stomach-churning sweetness, and as she turned to leave she made a mental note to boast to Poppy first thing in the morning that she was right yet again. 

[flamingpudding]

His son's children

When Alfred looked into the security video of the front gates, he froze for a moment. Taking in the image of the two children there. One was a tall, red haired girl with a teal headband, confident but with a look of wary in her eyes. Behind the girl was a younger boy, black haired and wearing a NASA shirt, appearing to be reluctant like what they were doing was a bad idea. Alfred's stomach dropped just a little when he saw the boy and his familiar features.

A second later worry flitted accross his face, but still, because of protocol, he asked them for their reason for this surprise visit. No one expected any visitors this late, and Alfred knew if he looked over his shoulder, he would find one of the children snooping, trying to find out who their visitor could be.

Yet when he heard the girls request to see him, not Bruce Wayne, but him, Alfred Pennyworth, his stomach dropped even more. Knowing now for sure that he hadn't seen wrong with the boy's features. He buzzed them in, while his mind remembered old cherished memories of two you black haired toddlers playing together, growing up together until that one day. When he chose to stay and his significant other chose to leave. Sometimes, he wondered if Bruce still remembered the one that could have been a brother to him if things had gone different.

He doesn't regret his decision, but when he looked at the two worn-out children, no his own grandchildren, before him he mourned the fact that he had let his own son become astranged from him and Bruce. Having believed it to be the best with what Bruce had started to get up to.

But maybe it wasn't to late to make amends he thought as the young girl, clearly of the same vibes as Richard, like someone who had grown up to fast and taking on responsibilities that shouldn't be theirs, tried to explain that they won't call him grandpa if it made him uncomfortable and that they would only need a place to stay for a couple of days before they could move on.

Alfred's heart broke for them as he listened to the girls, Jasmine's hurried explanation.

During her explanation, he studied them more closely. Marveling at how much the boy, Daniel, looked like him when he had been younger. But also noticing the clear signs of injury he was trying to hide. He suppressed a huff, years of taking care of his reckless charges and other grandchildren, and their wounds had made him an expert in spotting these things. But it also gave him a sickening feeling. The injuries Daniel tried to hide did not appear like your average kind of injuries.

They were going to stay, Alfred would make sure of it and he would also let Bruce know of his findings. There was clearly more to his grandchildren sudden appearance than Jasmin was willing to explain.

Whatever endangered his grandchildren from his own estranged son. He would ensure that nothing would hurt them ever again.

His granddaughter did not need to list reasons to convince him to let them stay for a couple of days. And his grandson did not need to look this cautious and wary of him like someone was going to attack him any second.

Alfred was going to give them a home if his son couldn't. And if Bruce had a problem with it, he could take it up with his children. Clearly, if he looked over his shoulder at the noisy little ones, all of his other grandchildren could see that these two before him needed a home to stay.

Besides from the looks of it, they would fit right in with this family.

[saekkas]

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.

tags: 1.2k wc | f!reader | established relationship (they're married) | they have a kid in this | aged up characters | pro-athlete rin | kissing (nothing too suggestive), uncle sae makes an appearance

notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike

"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"

at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.

it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.

fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.

"dad says he likes both!"

you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.

"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"

"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"

he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.

"and then we-"

"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.

rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.

keyword: trying.

"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"

rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."

"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."

"uncle sae can wait, i can't."

sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.

they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.

you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.

"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"

"she's my wife, you little squirt."

you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.

"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"

"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.

you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"

you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"

you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.

"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"

"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.

your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."

rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.

sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.

"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."

rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.

"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"

"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."

he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.

he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.

and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.

"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"we shall."

he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.

[studioghibelli]

bewitched, bothered, bewildered.

a joel miller x reader

summary: after your parents leave on a cruise for winter break, your best friend sarah invites you over to her house for the holidays. she failed to mention her father is the hottest man in the world.

warnings: best friends dad!joel, slight canon divergence as in Sarah is college aged come 2023, a big phat girthed up age gap, alcohol consumption, reader has just gotten out of a relationship, various media references, smut (fingering, female masturbation, f receiving oral, dirty talk, pet names, tiniest sir kink.) mdni!

note: this could be a series. i’m not too sure right now. let me know if you’d be interested in this as multiple parts!

You had never been to Texas before.

Tales of obnoxiously large barbecues, ten gallon hats, and vast, desert plains where rattlesnakes roamed freely filled your mind. Sticky sweet iced tea, kind old women who called everyone “honey”, and dry, arid heat were also things you associated with Texas.

And, sure, Texas was hot and humid as hell.

But it was beautiful.

While the plane made its final descent down to the Austin airport, your eyes took in the most beautiful sunset you had ever gazed upon, never before seeing oranges and reds quite as beautiful. By the time you deplaned, the deep navy of the night sky showcased millions of glimmering stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many stars. It must have been ages, but nonetheless they had ignited you with a sense of wonder.

“It’s about an hour, to my place.” Sarah warned, standing by your side as you both waited to catch sight of your luggage.

You nodded a bit, patiently looking to see your dark teal suitcase pass through the conveyor belt.

“Hey,” she nudged you in the side, causing you to glance her way. “Are you still thinking about your ex? Not good for you, so you better stop.”

“What if we were soulmates?” You grumbled, knowing how stupid you sounded. Your shoulders slumped forward. You didn’t actually think that idiot was the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but it was nice to have someone. To have… your person.

“If you two were soulmates, you wouldn’t have been broken up with. Now would you?” Sarah smiled sadly, gently patting your head. “Winter break is a month long. Who knows? Someone here might catch your eye!”

You rolled said eyes at her wiggling brows, grumbling beneath your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

“My dad has loads of hot guys working for him. They stop by the house sometimes, maybe you could…. I don’t know- waltz downstairs wearing a tight shirt and stick your ass out.” She wiggled her butt against you with a faux-seductive dance move.

“Sarah!” You laughed, gently pushing her shoulder.

“Dad says he should be here in about 5 minutes. Oh! There’s our bags.”

You grabbed your luggage in unison, lugging them off the machine before rolling through the crowds of people, no doubt travelling to and fro for the holidays.

“Look for a black Chevy!” She warned as you walked outside.

“I don’t know what that looks like!” You shouted earnestly, over the hustle and bustle of the pick up area.

Sarah looked at you, before rolling her eyes with a laugh. “There he is!” She waved both her hands towards a truck in the distance. You watched as it pulled to the curb, windows tinted black. When the driver door opened you heard Hank Williams crooning from the stereo, still unable to see the figure that was Sarah’s dad.

The shadow on the sidewalk was broad as it made its way towards the two of you, and when you finally dragged your eyes up, you saw Joel Miller in all his glory.

Tall, rugged, a little rough around the edges- but undeniably handsome. He wore a regular tan crew neck underneath a brown flannel, jeans spread out tight against his thick thighs, with the pointed toes of two leather boots sticking out. His dark hair, littered with strands of drool worthy gray, was slicked back from a fresh shower, one stray curl managing to sneak its way out.

And when he stepped closer, you smelled him. God, you smelled him. He wore just the right amount of cologne, and it made your knees weak. Joel smelled like woody vanilla, swirling with cracks of cardamom and whiffs of lavender tinted flowers of iris. You almost moaned. He smelled delicious.

Joel greeted Sarah, but quite honestly you were too overwhelmed to hear anything they were saying. And then he turned to you.

You.

“Hello.” He smiled a bit, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite pin point. “I’m Joel. It’s real nice to have you stayin’ with us.”

You smiled. A real smile. He was kind, too? What a fucking dream. “Thank you.” After telling him your name you went to pick up your luggage, before a hand grabbed your arm gently.

His hand. Well worked, rough, calloused- an honest pair of hands that were scarred by a lifetime of hard work. Honorable hands. Sexy hands.

“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ a pretty thing like you lift that suitcase all by herself. You’re in Texas now, honey. Don’t you know we practically invented gentlemen down here?” He joked, grabbing your bag and tenderly sitting it down in the bed of his Chevy.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll just let you do everything for me, since you’re a gentleman and such.” You teased. You watched the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.

“Well, you might just have to, darlin’.” With a wink that made your belly tighten, he opened the door for you, and you joined Sarah in the backseat.

“Dad, what the hell are you listening to?”

“Hank Williams.” You both said in unison. He put his eyes on you from the mirror, winking at you.

“Bring this one around more, Sarah. I like her.”

Sarah smiled, looking at you with love sparkling in her eyes. The kind of love that only existed between two bonded women, the kind of love that only two girls in a deep, genuine friendship could share. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Dad, you know she just got dumped.”

“Sarah!” You guffawed. And that special moment was over. Tenderness now replaced with annoyance.

“Who got broken up with?”

Sarah nudged her head towards you.

“Her?!” He spoke incredulously. As if Joel could not wrap his head around the idea of someone ever leaving you.

You buried your hot face in your hands, mumbling a bit. “Was a fucking jerk.” You grumbled after a long moment of silence, pulling away from your palms to look out the window, watching the city pass by.

“Must have been, breakin’ your heart.”

“Dad, you have no clue. So it all started-” As Sarah started explaining your past relationship and breakup, you watched the backdrop of Austin rush past your window.

Beautiful buildings shimmering in the night, the distant noise of the city clamoring, vibrant grass and trees scattered about. It was stunning, alive, noisy. It was nothing like what people had described Texas as. And the only person who had called you ‘honey’ so far, was your best friend’s hot dad.

You pulled away from where you looked, coming back in to reality. Sarah was still going on and on with her drama spilling. Joel was still listening, or at least looked like he was listening. His plush lips were cemented into a tight line, eyes dark and focused on the highway ahead. He met your gaze in his rearview mirror once again, and the tightness of his furrowed brow softened momentarily. You offered him a hint of a smile, and he gladly took it.

“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks you. You didn’t quite catch his question. You were examining how his hands looked around the steering wheel as he turned it, the way the pad of his thumb caressed the leather, the way his thighs looked spread out against the brown of the sleek seat. God. Was it normal to wish you were a fucking steering wheel?

You clenched your thighs together. You wondered if he noticed. He seemed rather perceptive.

“I’m sorry sir, what did you ask, Mr. Miller?”

Joel swallowed thickly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Joel, please. Call me Joel. I asked what you’re studyin’, back at school.”

Sarah laughed a bit, not looking up from her phone. “What isn’t she studying?”

You grinned a toothy grin at the comment. “It’s true. I’ve changed my major loads of times. I started with French, then anthropology. Now I’m stuck between film and history. There are a lot of things I love learning about. I just…. want to see the world, experience it all.” You explained softly, looking out the window as you thought. “It’s kind of hard to focus on one thing when your heart is all over the place. Y’know?”

Joel nodded a bit, clearing his throat. “You sound way smarter than me. Been contractin’ my whole life. Nothin’ special like French or history.” You giggled to yourself at the way he pronounced ‘French’, his Texan accent thick on the syllables.

“Contracting is honest work. Takes a big, strong man, you know? It can’t be easy. I admire that.” You hummed. Your eyes met once again. Joel’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, nostrils slightly flared.

Sarah was none the wiser, scrolling through her phone. You hummed a bit, settling in to your seat. By the time you looked at Sarah, she was passed out, fast asleep.

“So,” Joel began, turning on to a dirt road. You saw a few cows in the pasture fast asleep, the moon hanging above them. It looked like something from a storybook. “You heartbroken’ over this break up?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t…. really know. It’s just weird…. it’s- it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Like, yeah, I was cheated on, then dumped. But we did everything together. Went out, grabbed dinner, saw movies. I just don’t know what to fill that up with. I do all those things with Sarah, obviously, but it’ll still be weird. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” You huffed out a breath of air you had been holding, shrugging a bit. “Probably sounds stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid.” Joel reassured softly, his deep voice rumbled like a song through your ears, filling your mind with symphonies and day dreams. Day dreams of feeling his mouth on your own, hearing that voice from behind your back while he took you- wait, what? No! He was Sarah’s dad! You shook the thoughts away. “Don’t uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad for feelin’ any sort of way. Alright?”

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, you nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

You laughed. “Star Wars! I love Star Wars.” You cooed, rubbing a hand down your cheek in an attempt to stifle your giggles.

“Sarah would never watch it with me. Been beggin’ her for years.” Joel admitted through a cracked grin.

“Well, I’ll watch it with you.”

Joel shot you that glance once more. “I’d like that.”

Was it a date? No. Surely not? Stop getting ahead of yourself! You took in a deep, shaky breath, gulping down a thick lump that had been forming. No. Calm down. There was no way.

Sarah woke up with a yawn, smiling when she realized the truck had finally pulled in to the driveway.

Joel helped you all unload your things, showing you to the guest room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Fridge, drinks. In the garage we got beers and some of them fruity mixers that Sarah likes. Our home is your home.” He explained, extending that Southern hospitality that you had heard so much about.

You felt your body warming up. “Thank you.”

“And, uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost nervously. “I’ll be downstairs in the livin’ room watchin’ some movies, if you want to join me.”

WHAT?!

“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” You said calmly, stiffly, and definitely not using a oh-my-god-did-he-really-say-that tone of voice. Nope. Not you. Not at all.

“Don’t feel pressured or nothin’. Just a thought.”

Before you could respond, Joel had walked through the hall and down the stairs. You threw on your pajamas, a simple pair of fleece bottoms and a tank top, rolling the thought over in your head. It would be nice, to sit next to him, hear his laugh, cast glances at his side profile. But you weren’t too sure if you could be trusted. Just out of a relationship, full of emotion, irrevocably attracted to this man….. No. No. It wasn’t a good idea. What if you did something you regretted?

So you climbed in to bed, shutting your eyes tight.

And then thirty minutes passed, and your eyes were wide open.

And then an hour passed, and your eyes were still wide opened.

What-fucking-ever.

You threw the covers off with a huff and walked out of your room, quiet as not to wake Sarah. She had had a rough finals week, and you knew she needed a good night’s rest. You on the other hand? Your body was aflame, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree by Joel’s charming laugh, perfect hands, stern face. God. Why was he so attractive? So alluring? You buried your face in your hands as you shuffled down the hallway.

You were really doing this.

You reached the couch, and saw Joel watching the television, strong arm thrown across the back of it.

“Uhm, Mr- Uh, Joel?”

He turned to look at you, and you noticed a smirk tease the corner of his lips. “Well, hello darlin’. Started to think you weren’t goin’ to take me up on my offer.” Joel patted the empty space beside him. The couch was small, meant for two people.

You weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, well.” You let out a nervous giggle, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so.”

“Oh. So you’re tellin’ me I’m your rebound?” He joked.

“Yeah. Sorry… I’m real desperate these days.” You teased back, holding an embroidered pillow to your chest.

Joel chuckled a deep, beautiful, throaty chuckle, his arm not moving from the back of the couch, brushing every so often against your shoulder blades. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, turning to look at you.

“Sure.” You smiled softly at him, eyes lingering for a few beats to long. He shook his head a bit, as though he were thinking something he really shouldn’t be thinking, before looking away. A moment of awkward silence fell between you two.

Without missing a beat, he slapped his hands on his knees through a deep sigh, getting up and walking to the garage. When he came back, he had a six pack of beer in one hand, and a box of pre-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris in the other.

“Didn’t know which one to grab for you. A bit of everythin’, I suppose.” He sat the cartons in front of you, and you opted for the Daiquiri.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “Anythin’ sound good?”

You hummed out in thought, eyeing all the movies. “Oh! Stepbrothers! That’s a good one.”

He looked at you. “Really?” He teased dryly.

“Sarah and I quote it all the time.”

Joel nodded for a moment, before turning to you, a serious look on his face. “Did you… touch my drum set?”

A long bout of silence passed, before you took in a deep breath and looked up at him. “No.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue. “It’s just weird, cause it seems like someone definitely touched my drum set.”

“Yeah, that is weird, cause I didn’t touch them.”

You stared at each other intensely, both feigning fake anger, before you broke out into giggles. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“So, Stepbrothers then-”

“Oh!” You cut him off excitedly. “Look! The Empire Strikes Back!”

He hummed in agreement, clicking it on. You both got settled in, your shoulder touching his side, his arm thrown behind your back again. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and you took in the scene around you.

A small living room, a flat screen propped on a wooden console that looked handmade, a nice rug spread out over the hardwood floors. There were some car magazines on the table, a pair of work boots sitting in the corner. It smelled like him, and his electrifying cologne. It felt like him, too. Masculine, woody, comfortable. It was incredible.

You had finished the box of drinks before the end of the movie, and by the time Han Solo was frozen solid in his fancy little fridge, you were crying your eyes out.

Not because of the movie.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel’s eyes slightly widened as he turned to you. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled, face planting in to his chest. You were tipsy, the newest recipient of a so called broken heart, and he was warm. So, so warm. Without missing a beat, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, his grip tight and secure. You had never felt more protected, more wanted, more cared for.

“Shh, it’s okay.” His long fingers ran through your hair, gentle and soothing. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m such an idiot.” You grumbled into his husky chest, no doubt leaving a stain of tears. “I should have seen it coming. Everyone warned me about… about… even Sarah knew. But I didn’t listen. And now I’m here, crying to my best friend’s dad who is way too hot for his own good, full of all these feelings, and-and-….. oh, fuck.” You realized what had spilled from your mouth, pulling away sheepishly and stuffing the pillow in your face.

Joel sat for a moment, wordlessly, slowly looking at you. He gently pushed the pillow away before his index and thumb grabbed your chin, demanding and gentle, tilting your gaze to meet his own. “Too hot for my own good, huh?”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. You wanted to recoil away, maybe throw up a little. You wanted to climb beneath the couch and die there. Anything but own up to your words.

“It’s okay. Think you’re the first of Sarah’s friends to get a little crush on me?” He joked softly, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

A pinch of jealousy surged through you. It wasn’t making you feel any better. You sniffled loudly, your eyelashes fluttering.

“I will say, you are the first of Sarah’s friends I’ve…. well, you’re beautiful. And smart. And, you know.” Joel paused, clearing his mind. He was usually much better with his words. “Look, darlin’. I like you, a lot. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anythin’, but I can help with that broken heart of yours.”

A gulp of air caught in your chest. With shaking hands, you gently grabbed his own, pulling him closer to you. A deep breath, and then: “Please. Help me forget.”

Joel chuckled, his palm dragging down the side of your body. “I can do that.”

His lips met yours. Hungry, passionate, deep. Joel kissed you like he’d never kiss again, and you happily let him, lips parting, heart mending. He pushed you down onto the soft couch with his weight hovering above your own, fingers tangling into your hair. He wanted you. All of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, hand moving down to your pajama pants.

“Please.” It came out choked, a plea, a prayer.

He pushed your pants down, allowing you to kick them off, before his palm found your core. Hot, soaked, weeping for him. He groaned, gently rubbing your swollen clit from behind the material of your underwear.

“God damn, girl.” He smirked, eyes darkening. “This all for me?”

You nodded meekly, the inside of your cheek caught between your molars. “Touch me.” You begged.

“Here?” He whispered, his thumb dragging across your soaked slit, over the cotton material.

“Anywhere. Just, please- make me cum.”

“Oh, I’ll make you cum alright, girl. But you’re going to have to stay quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pushed your legs back, slipping between them as he lowered himself, now face to face with your pussy. Joel slipped your underwear to the side, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking your clit in his mouth. You shuddered at the contact, groaning softly.

“I think,” he whispered quietly, your ears straining to hear him, “I want you to rub this pretty clit while I finger fuck your pussy.”

You groaned softly, eyes blown wide and dark, as you slowly sat yourself up on your elbows. “Ye-yes sir.” It just slipped out. You were too horny to care.

A guttural hiss seeped through his teeth. “I like that.” He warned deeply. “Go on, rub it for me.”

You lowered your shaking hand, the tip of your index slowly tracing up the length of your clit. It was screaming, begging, throbbing for any semblance of pleasure.

Joel’s eyes were on you.

He was inspecting your every movement like a panther stalking its prey, eyes full of lust, tongue dripping with desire.

You took in a sharp breath before rubbing your bud between your index and middle finger, a soft breath leaving you.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised, middle finger sinking in to your tight cunt. Joel sighed out a string of curses. “You’re fuckin’ tight, baby. That little pussy is drippin’ for me.”

“For you.” You whispered.

He looked up at you as he kissed your thigh, biting down on the soft, supple flesh. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”

You threw your head back at his words, hips bucking. You felt your orgasm growing nearer, stomach tensing. Joel pushed your hand away, and you jerked your head to look at him, so quick it almost gave you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.” He leaned forward, sucking at your clit again, his tongue swirling and flattening against it. Joel knew what he was doing.

As his finger still hit inside of you, you brought your hands down to his hair, tugging at his curls, the once slicked style now rampant and messy. You tried to stop yourself from moaning too loud, fearful of waking Sarah, but how could you not?

Joel fucking Miller, the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, was worshipping your pussy. You shivered, thighs clenching.

He was worshipping your pussy.

His hot tongue felt like Heaven against you, and Joel was eating you like a starved man, like your cunt was the nectar of the gods. He did what your ex had never done before- he made you feel wanted, made you feel desired.

Joel moaned into your pink flesh, sucking and licking, nibbling and swirling, until your stomach grew tight with a looming climax.

God, he was good at this.

“Gonna cum. G-gonna cum, Jo- oh, oh. Oh.” You hummed out in relief as your orgasm washed over you, eyes widening as he continued licking, sucking, finger fucking- he didn’t care that you were getting sensitive. All he cared about was you. Your sweet pussy, delicious cum, soft folds- he wanted all of it.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He whispered, bringing himself away from your core. “Sweet little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your cheeks heated, and you slowly sat up, legs still shaking. “Jesus Christ.”

Joel chuckled, reaching towards you as he fixed a few strands of messy hair. “Yeah, Jesus Christ.”

You stared at one another for a moment before he tackled you with a deep kiss, hungry and crazed. You wasted no time kissing back, feeling the outline of his cock on your bare thigh. You gasped for air at the touch, already knowing he was big, thick, perfect.

Your hand was moving towards his shirt before the hallway light switched on.

“Fuck. Here.” He tossed you your pants and you quickly slipped them on, resuming your positions on the couch as normally as possible.

As Sarah walked down the stairs, your chest tightened with a sudden realization.

This was going to be a great winter break… if you made it out in one piece, that is.

[dreamermonica]

“how much do you love me?”

in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.

—includes itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, barou shouei

—gender neutral reader, isagi is the only normal one AGAIN, trigger warning for kais*r himself, established relationships, fluff, crack, nagi’s got a bit too real for a sec, some swearing, yeah this is reminiscent of my most popular post on genshinblr what abt it😤

SAE surprisingly ponders your question. years of your random questions getting ignored has its effects, and it is definitely the reason you're now staring at him like a madman, ready to catch his response in an instant. oh my, you think your heart isn't ready for this. what could your lovely and handsome boyfriend say that'll effectively swoop you off your fee—

“as much as one would love a rock, i guess.”

you whine as you throw your head back in frustration, sliding off the couch dramatically, earning him a scoff. “so mean! and unromantic too! pick a disability, not multiple!”

“well, you're as dumb as a rock. can't have too much in this world, unfortunately.”

a pout makes its way to your features, before suddenly switching into a suspicious frown when you see a small smile creeping on his face.

wait...you're as dumb as a rock?

“oh...?” your face immediately looks up at him. “and how much do you love this stupid rock exactly...?”

seeing that you finally caught on his antics, a heart-fluttering chuckle escapes his lips, his eyes shut in amusement as your heart beat quickens at the melodious sound.

“a lot—as in more than anything in this world.”

RIN ignores you. acts like you never spoke in the first place. why? hah, his pride's too high for him to even properly answer that. even if he said something that's relatively joking or teasing, it'd be lying in a way, right? so what purpose would it solve in answering your question? exactly. none. so you get no response, whatsoever.

“rin-chan, answer my question, please?”

radio silence.

“rrrrrrrrrin. rinnnnnn. riiiiiiiiiiin. RIN!”

he still continues on walking, gaze still ahead whilst you struggle to waddle along with his wide strides, opting to grab his arms as to not get left behind.

“itoshi rin! just how much do you love m—”

he places his gloved hand flat against your face, shutting you up as he moves you away from his line of sight. his teal stare still bored and unbothered.

“any louder and you'll attract attention. i don't want paparazzi stuck to us for the rest of the day.”

you narrow your eyes at him as he practically drags you along, legs unable to keep up with his pace. “i don't see how that refrains you from answering my question, though.”

“i won't answer a question you already know the answer to, so shut up.”

you blink twice, swearing you just saw his cheeks go a bit red for a quick second. were you seeing things...?

KAISER, the mischief, always has to edge you on for a bit before giving you what you want. (🤨📸) it's how he functions as a partner—never failing to be an infuriating piece of shit who gets on your nerves whenever he gets a chance. what makes you think now would be an exception?

“hmm...” he hums with that annoying curl of his lips once more, feigning thoughtfulness. “what do you think?”

“more than you love yourself?” you guess expectantly.

but with how he gasps dramatically at you, all your expectations of the narcissistic king drop like dead flies. your expression must’ve also dropped without you noticing, because now, your asshole of a boyfriend is cackling at you. you mercifully resist the urge to hit his annoyingly pretty face as you pout and face away from him with a huff.

“what’s with that glare? i didn’t mean it, you know.” yet he continues to snicker like a child.

“what did i even expect from you…" you sigh, visibly deflating in disappointment as you stand up to leave. “i’m an idiot.”

“yep, you are for even believing i’d—” wrapping his arms around your frame, he pulls you onto his lap with yet another shit-eating grin of his. “—let you go like that. now gimme a kiss, chuu—”

pushing away his exaggerated puckered lips from your face, still glaring at him. “what do you say first, my liebe?”

he chuckles, half of his face flat against your palm that’s pushing him away. “i’m very sorry. i love you more than anything. well, except my side chicks—” your glare turns into a scowl. “—just kidding! i love you, baby. so much that i’d give up anything in this world just to see you smile.”

removing your hand from his face, you finally let him attack you with his kisses.

REO smugly raises his black card. well, it would’ve been a lot more cool and impressive if he didn’t practically jump out of the couch in his pajamas and full-on sprinted to his bedroom to fetch it. was he waiting for this question for a long time now?

“…what’s that have to do with—”

“i love you, as much as the amount within this baby right here. if not, then more!” he slaps the who-knows-how-much card onto the coffee table, gazing at you with excitement not much unlike a puppy waiting for the coos and praises of its owner after fetching them a stick.

adorable. so goddamn cute. ahhhhh. you want to rip your hair out.

“how long were you waiting for this moment…?” why does this scene seem so familiar?

"a long time. i saw this while reading one of the romance novels you had, and i just had to do it.” he smiles sheepishly at you. “was my excitement a dead giveaway or…?”

that explains the feeling of deja vu, then. you remember getting giddy over that specific scene. mindlessly, you snort at the fact that this man has more achievements than anyone you’ve ever known yet he’s still trying to impress you. jesus. he’s so…

you lean over to him, grasping his hand in your own. “you know, you look so kissable right now.”

he perks up immediately. “heh—then, don’t mind me if i do.”

NAGI hums, animatedly tapping away at his game, not sparing you a glance. “would it be bad if i said that question’s a hassle?”

“…? why do you think so?”

“well…you’re only asking that because you want me to say something that’ll uh…make you blush or something right?” he starts, voice remaining bored as ever. “but if i don’t manage to, you’ll be dissatisfied or even use it as leverage to get mad at me to get my attention.”

you frown. “what are you—”

“i don’t mean it in a bad way.” he finally looks at you, a bold ‘victory!’ visible on his phone screen. “it’s not that i’m not willing to indulge you—it’s just that i don’t really know how to be romantic, and i also don’t wanna make you sad so…”

you blink when he performs a beckoning motion with his fingers, silently requesting for you to come near him.

complying with a raised brow, your confusion is immediately replaced by shock, and maybe a tad bit of warmth as the tall boy’s arm wrap themselves around your form, pulling you down with him with a small ‘oof’.

“n—nagi!?” you squirm.

“i love you a lot, [name].” he nuzzles his face onto your hair, his next words a bit muffled as they left his lips. “so don’t get mad at me, please?”

how in the world are you going to get mad at this goddamn sloth when he’s acting like this??

ISAGI blinks. scanning your face for a moment for any uncertainty or insecurity that might’ve influenced your posed question. but when he finds none, redness takes control of his entire face like a infectious parasite.

“why do you want to know?” his voice is meek, most likely caught off guard by such a direct question.

“just curious.” you reply, smiling at the way he seems so wrapped up in your finger despite it being so loose. “you don’t have to answer though. it’s quite an open question—vague and has a lot of possible answers.”

he stares down at his palm, carefully planning out his next choice of words for your inquiry. he really wants to provide an answer, something that shows he’s completely confident in your relationship. but…

how much he loves you? how is he even going to start?

“i’m not really sure how to put it but,” he starts, determination on his expression as he turns to look at you. “i’m certain i love you a lot. not sure just how much exactly but…”

“if it could go by anything, i think about you so much that my first instinct in the morning is to grab my phone and text you a good morning,” he adds on while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i-i don’t know. was that a good way of putting it? there’s also the fact that i always unconsciously brew two coffees even when we don’t live together, and oh! there’s also that time i—”

too caught up in his mind to recount the times his love had overshadowed his rationality and normalcy, he fails to see the lovestruck gaze given by a certain someone, completely and utterly in love with the man chatting away that you could probably see hearts in those [e/c] irises.

just wait till you start on sharing your side of the relationship.

BACHIRA grins impishly as he takes out a ruler, pulling down an imaginary board from thin air whilst putting on some nerdy glasses from nowhere. he points the tip of the ruler on an equation, your face now deadpan.

what is he doing…?

“the formula for measuring my love for [name]! note; very easy!”

you snort at his antics, before deciding to play along as you nod for him to continue.

with his ever-present grin, he taps the board with his ruler, adjusting his glasses as if to catch your attention like a typical teacher. “now, [name], can you try to answer this equation for me? these glasses are kinda blurry.”

n-no teaching or guides at all? uhm, okay.

you suck in a breath, gazing at the imaginative board with an unperturbed focus.

[name]’s infinite beauty x [name]’s infinite kindess x [name]’s infinite funniness equals N…what are these variables?

this shouldn’t even be a working equation but if you’re playing with how bachira’s mind works, then…“infinite?”

“yes!" he swoops in lowly and sweeps you off your feet, a yelp escaping your lips as he lifts you up bridal style. “looks like i have to add [name]’s infinite smartness into the equation too, what do you say?”

“whatever you want. but i think i need to mention that infinity isn’t actually a number so i think you’ll have to make a different formula—”

“jokes on you, i won’t let the laws of math deter me from figuring out the estimate of my infinite love!”

BAROU sneers. making quite an ugly face that forces you to be wary if he’s about to spit in your face or not.

“hah, when and where did you hear that i, the king, loved you, a mere peasant??”

raising a brow at him, you quickly throw a glance at the bouquet of flowers delicately placed onto a polishes and refined vase, the glint of its glassy appearance reminding you who it undoubtedly came from, and whom it was given to.

“at the front of that bakery you like, around 3pm on a sunday a few weeks ago, after i gave you flowers, you replied to my confession by saying—” you’re promptly cut off as an oven mitt is unceremoniously thrown at your face.

“what the hell?” he says breathlessly, letting out an unbelieving scoff as he crosses his arms. like a tsundere. “why do you even remember all that? creep.”

“well, you see, it was the first time king barou had bared his feelings towards me. an extremely rare moment, even though we’re basically dating right now.”

his eye twitches. “WHO THE HELL SAID WE WERE DATING?!”

“eh?” your sarcasm is immediately gone. “you said you loved me back, so i thought that—”

“is that why you’re always in my goddamn house unannounced??” he cuts you off, again.

“it’s kinda late to retract my view of our status now though. your sisters really like me as your lover for some reason.”

he responds with a groan, muttering something about how his soccer is now doomed by some outsider. silly king. he doesn’t even notice that he could always kick you out, yet simply chooses not to.

no i didn’t add a part where they’d explicitly have to theoretically choose between you or soccer because lets be fr they’d all choose to kick a ball forever over some head

its 3am rn (no beta we die like men) so if theres a few typos or pronoun and grammatical errors that ive missed, please do tell me!

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Thirteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. A walk through Velaris turns for the worse and the secrets of The Book are finally revealed...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It would seem I was wrong. It does not take much for Bethsevah Mordeigh to turn. 

I should be ashamed, but the more often Thanatos keeps coming back, the more I come to like him. Make no mistake, he’s as dangerous and volatile as a starving animal, but compared to his siblings he’s a saint. 

I saw him kill a male yesterday. One who stumbled upon our hidden ceremony and threatened to come back with Koschei’s army and crush us and the Mother beneath his boot. 

But with a snap of Thanatos’s fingers the nameless fae was gone. Gone in a gust of red wind that smelled and tasted like metal. And Thanatos looked stronger for it. His pale skin stopped being so translucent. His hair looked a touch darker, so dark it swallowed all light. A piece cut away from the fabric of the world. 

Death is his food. Him and his siblings feed on it and crave it like nothing else. 

Except for me. 

Thanatos says he craves me. And I think I believe him. I think I’m beginning to crave him too. 

Gwyn froze when the mountain’s door slid back. Azriel stood outside Cagniv Library with a bouquet of salt-white water lilies clutched in one hand and pale blue tulips in the other. 

“Azriel,” you smiled brightly, the last word you’d meant to speak to Gwyn dying on your lips. “What’re you doing here?”

The midday sun beat down on the face of the mountain, shortening the shadows around your feet. 

“I was coming from the House of Wind and was hoping you’d take a long walk home with me. These are for you.” He held out the tulips. “And for you.” He held out the lilies for Gwyn, which she accepted after a brief moment of hesitance. 

Azriel looked… lighter. His shadows were stronger than ever, clinging to his body like a second scent, but his eyes held a fondness and love for you that Gwyn had never seen before. Not when he was looking at Mor, not when he was looking at Elain… not when he was looking at her. It was so obvious to Gwyn’s eyes, she was amazed you hadn’t caught on yet. You just looked at the flowers with a touch of color flooding your cheeks. Bashful and uncertain of how to accept such a gift. 

“Thank you.” You touched the velvety petals between your fingers as though they might crumble if you weren’t gentle. 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

Azriel looked at Gwyn, that small smile of his faltering and then growing once more when Gwyn nodded her head. It was a silent acknowledgement. A quiet understanding that didn’t completely escape your notice. 

I’m not happy with you. Gwyn’s eyes spoke. But I understand. Her teal eyes flashed protectively. Don’t fuck this up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Gwyn smirked at you and nudged her shoulder with your own, feeling the soft give of her skin and the strength in her arms. 

“Where else would I be?”

“At home. Sleeping.”

“Pffft. Sleep is for the weak.” 

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Az. Now shoo.” Gwyn waved you off, watching as you took the arm that Azriel offered and made your way down the smooth steps of the mountain back to the city. 

You bowed your heads together, lips barely moving and cutting out two dark silhouettes in the air. Azriel must have said something funny because your gentle laugh carried itself on the wind, weaving into the air like silver thread. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at you. 

If she knew what was about to happen, she would have never let you leave the library. 

“They’re in love.” 

Azriel looked sideways at you, catching the sweet scent of your hair as you leaned against him. The Palace of Hoof and Leaf buzzed with quiet energy, the air tinged with the scent of sugar from the confectionary booths. 

“Who?”

“Beth and Thanatos.” 

The book rocked against your hip, matching the beat of you and Azriel’s steps as you walked through the cobblestone marketplace. Lanterns hung unlit from the arches above, bobbing on wire like the bubbles that a pair of hawk-winged children were blowing from the steps of a peach-stone apartment. The girl, blue-eyed and red-haired, nudged the boy, pointing at the Shadowsinger with something like awe. Azriel offered them a faint smile and a few tendrils of his shadows licked at their feet as they scampered away with laughter. It was just a game to them after all. 

“I didn’t think he was capable of love,” Azriel noted. He thought back to the memories you’d unearthed with your powers and of the violent ways Thanatos had inched his way into Beth’s life. Wherever he lingered, death followed. But so far as you knew, he was also incredibly protective of Beth and the other priestesses. They’d benefited from his presence even if they were unnerved by it. He’d kept them hidden from Koschei.

“Beth didn’t think so either.” You flinched when one of the marketplace hawkers held his hand out to you. He didn’t shout like the others and seemed grieved when you stepped back into the folds of Azriel’s wings. He opened his sticky fist palm up to the sky revealing a handful of neat caramel candies wrapped in wax paper. 

“For the miss.” 

Y/n looked at Azriel, who only nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You gingerly took them from him, taking a moment to admire the light brown of the confectioner’s eyes, like burnt sugar, and the wisps of candy floss clinging to his shirt like loose threads. 

He didn’t resume his shouting until you were a good distance away, deep voice bellowing out over the square that his wares were made fresh that morning. You unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it in your mouth, sighing as it turned around on your tongue, slowly melting. Azriel took one of the candies you offered, but tucked it into his pocket when you turned your head to inspect the baskets of spices laid out on the sidewall.

“But he keeps staying with her. Keeps warning her of Koschei’s movements so she and her fellow priestesses can stay hidden. He… he cares for her. Or at least Beth seems to think so. The information — the story — is more pleasant than I could have hoped for, and I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t go in depth about their activities—” 

Azriel chuckled. “So it’s not like one of Nesta’s books.”

“Thank the Mother no. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out how to defeat Koschei. She doesn’t even talk about Koschei or the priestesses much. Only Thanatos. It’s just a love story.”

“Love stories are never just that though. They’re probably the most powerful things in the universe. Look at Rhysand and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. I don’t think we’d be where we are now if not for their love for one another. The things they were willing to do to protect what they cared about.” 

“Do you ever wish you had that?” You dared to ask. “That kind of love? A mate?” Azriel turned to look at you, eyes filled with more cryptic meaning than you could ever imagine unraveling. There was hope, longing, grief, and a slew of other emotions. Their weight seemed to press in on you, but you didn’t feel overwhelmed. 

“All the time,” he whispered. Then he smiled, staring down at where your arm was linked to his. “Do you?” 

You turned away almost bitterly. “I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.”

“I would disagree.” 

You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled on silence. Luckily for you, silence with Azriel never felt uncomfortable. 

“If your shadows keep taking them, I’m going to forget how many I’ve selected.”

“I see no problem with this,” Azriel shrugged and continued to follow you around the bookshop. It had stuck out to you immediately on your long walk back to the River House. A squat, two-story townhouse with charmingly chipped white paint laid over sturdy brick and sage green shutters. Candles winked in the afternoon light pressed up against window sills where two fat ginger cats lay purring in the sun. The dark, woodsy interior dripped with books, leather notebooks, and automatic writing pens that hovered over thick pages like butterflies. “We have space in the house.” 

“It’s less about space and more about how much I’ve spent.” Your fingers brushed the next book on the shelf and its deep purple binding. 

Oh that one’s interesting — a romance between a Spring Court nymph and a Dundarian knife maker filled with adventure, lust, longing, and found family. 

You’d no sooner plucked it from the shelf before shadows crowded your hands, whisking it off to whatever ether Azriel kept them hidden in. He wrote the name of the book on a sheaf of paper, his handwriting neat and simple. 

You turned on him, arms folded over your chest. “You can’t keep doing that.” 

“You are not to spend a copper of your own money here. Rhysand and Feyre’s orders. Just put it on the House’s credit. Rhysand’s already added you.” 

“They put me on their credit?” You balked even thinking about the money you’d been given access to.

Azriel nodded. “Consider it repayment.”

“Repayment for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Azriel looked at you quietly, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re the reason I still have a sister-in-law and a niece. You’re the reason we now have a name to investigate and are one step closer to defeating Koschei. You’re the reason the Godswoods and the Gallows haven’t been stolen from yet and a number of Librarians still have their lives. Do I need to continue?”

You thought through what he said. It was true that Helion’s intervention in the Godswoods and the Gallows had been effective. No deaths had been reported since then, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. A snake was still a snake, even when camouflaged.

“Only two of those things matter to the Night Court. Helion owes me for the latter.” 

“Then you can have him contact the banks and transfer the sums.” Azriel’s eyes twinkled with mischie. You went to snatch the paper out of his hands, but all he had to do was raise his arm to the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped up, one hand firm on his shoulder for leverage, but it was no use. He was too damned tall. 

You stood on the tips of your toes to get closer to eye level with Azriel. His eyes flickered down to your lips, the shapes they made as you quietly said, “Thank you.” 

You lingered in the stacks for a few moments longer, nervously asked the shop owner to put the list of books on the High Lord and High Lady’s tab — which she did with a warm smile — and then made your way back outside. The bell hanging above the doorway jingled happily, the wood burned sign saying Come back soon! Love, Jessebell. 

You trailed ahead of him down the street. Every sign, every shop window display, every street sign — you drank them in like you were ravenous. 

Azriel felt Rhys’s presence drift in the outskirts of his mind, and without hesitation, he let him in. 

Where are you? What’s taking so long?

Nearly to the Sidra. I brought her to Jessebell’s. 

That explains your lateness. Rhys paused. She must have loved that. 

Azriel smiled inwardly. She did. She really did.  

A female with weathered, dark skin and flowers sprouting from her ears stopped you on the street and although your first instinct was to recoil, you relaxed when she only lifted up a deep black tulip in her textured hands. The wilting flower straightened up when you kissed one of the petals as instructed and the gentle laugh that followed had Azriel’s heart soaring. 

Well make sure you get here in time for dinner. I want as many of our family members under my roof as possible.

Is this an ask, or a command?

Don’t make me use my High Lord voice on you.

Azriel rolled his eyes with a smile. I am absolutely trembling. Do you use that tone of voice on Nyx? 

He felt as much as heard Rhys’s laughter. Enjoy your time with Y/n, but come back soon. Mor is looking to get her hands on your mate. Mother help us all.

Rhys cut the connection and Azriel was free to admire you once more. 

You cradled the bouquet he’d given you in your arms, light reflecting off the petals and casting a faint blue glow on your face as you chatted with the florist. Your smile, which had started out forced and nervous, was slipping into something more relaxed. When the female laughed merrily and touched your wrist, you didn’t flinch. 

Dark tendrils of night curled around his ears and Azriel felt a shiver trail down his spine. 

Behind you. His shadows whispered. The boy needs help. There’s something wrong with him.

The boy startled back when Azriel turned towards him, tripping over a nick in the cobblestones and landing with a wince on his palms. Glassy pale eyes stared up, wide and terrified. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt and his white-blond hair was a mess of curls flecked with grey, like he’d been rolling around in dust. Pale pink and blue veins rose to the surface of his green-tinged skin, sickly and unnerving. He looked like a corpse on puppet strings.

Azriel looked around, but no one was searching for the little boy. No yelps belonging to scared parents. No calls from a sibling. 

“Shadowsinger, sir?” Even his voice sounded sickly, like his vocal chords were disintegrating in his throat. 

Azriel immediately dropped to his knees and slid his hands behind his back. “What’s happened, little one? What’s wrong?” His voice was smooth and gentle. 

He was too busy thinking that his boy was younger than Nyx, too busy ordering his shadows out to search for the boy’s parents that he didn’t think twice about the lingering stench of blood clinging to the boy’s shoes or the faint pain beginning to grow behind his hazel eyes. 

The boy looked around furtively while wringing his grubby hands, and then leaned close to whisper in Azriel’s ear. His pale eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a black tulip before.” 

“It’s a little secret of mine. You need to get the seed and soil just right.” The female brushed her waist length hair over her shoulder. The knotted strands had the thick, coarse texture of seafarer’s rope, as aged and wise as the rest of her. When you held the flower back out for her to take she shook her head. 

“For you, my dear. I have dozens more and I think it would attract more business if you wore it around today. A beautiful creature like you must get lots of attention.” 

You knew she was probably just saying these things to get your business, but you couldn’t help the spark of joy the compliments gave you. She helped tuck the flower into the braids of your hair and you felt the petals kiss the tips of your left ear. 

“Say.” The female leaned in like she was about to share a secret. “If you aren’t already taken, I have a niece who’d love to have a pretty girl like you on her arm.” 

Your blush deepened and you found yourself stammering, “That’s very kind, but I don't-I don’t-'' You glanced up the street. Azriel was kneeling on the ground, head bent down to a small child. You only caught the wisps of white, candy floss hair over Azriel’s broad shoulders. 

The female traced the path of your gaze and sighed. “Ahhhhh. I see.” There was a triumphant look in her eyes, even as she said, “Shame. But I’ll still give you my niece’s name if you don’t mind.” 

Your eyes snapped away from Azriel’s and you smiled in embarrassment. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Henna.” 

You stepped back. Panic froze the blood in your veins and you felt pinpricks traveling up your body, stabbing your heart and your mind. You could see her now. Her silver hair fanned out around her. Her broken body. Her bloodied eye socket, dark and empty. 

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You had to have heard her incorrectly. Your head was pounding but you pushed back on your mental wards, shoring up your defenses until the feeling passed.

The female tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were as milky and glassy as pearls. “Does the name mean anything to you, dear?” 

You took another step back and the female stepped forward. Her eyes seemed to clear then and her brows furrowed in concentration and pain. She lunged forward, tearing away at your clothes and knocking the flowers of your hands as she begged. “Help me. The boy. He’s inside—HELP ME!” 

You surged back, crumpling to the ground under her heavy weight as she continued to pull and claw. 

She’d been restocking the back room when the dirty little boy and the tailor showed up in the alleyway. He still carried that bolt of fabric under the crook of his arm. He took out a knife, orange eyes flashing and slit his throat from ear to ear while the little boy watched. Smiling.

“LET GO!” You kicked out, ramming your knee up and into the soft flesh of her stomach like you’d seen Emerie do to Cassian, but you lacked her strength and technique. The female wheezed but didn’t let go, even as others came to try and pry her off of you. Their voices were frantic, trying to calm you down, but they were the voices and hands of strangers. 

“AZ!” You screamed, feeling the female sink her nails into your arm.

There was an ugly tearing sound and the cool touch of wind at your chest. Your robes were ripped apart under her rough hands and her eyes narrowed in on your belt and the chain that connected to the book. She bucked off a cherub-faced female with a blow to her nose and blood splashed over your cheek. 

“Help me. Please. Oh… oh gods.” She grabbed at the book, but the chain glowed iron hot in her hands. The smell of burning scorched your nose as the magic did what it was meant to do. Nothing could break that chain. Not unless you willed it. Not while you were still alive. 

“Oh gods. Oh gods help me. I’m so sorry.” There were tears streaming down her face, tracing the canyons and valleys of her skin. She threw off the fae clamoring around you both and ran with jerky, uncoordinated leaps back into her flower shop. She snatched the gardening shears off the windowsill where she’d been trimming her hydrangea bushes. She wept and shook her head, mouth struggling to open and scream as she held the shears up high and then drove them into her neck.

The scene took a long time to filter through the haze of panic and disbelief. 

“Az… Az… Az—AZRIEL!” Your shrill scream pierced through the air. You scrambled away from everyone. Stones shaved away the skin of your knees, your palms. The tattered silk of your robes trailed behind you. “Don’t touch me!” You shrieked at the male who tried grabbing your arm, soft voice whispering. 

He wasn’t the one you wanted. 

“AZRIEL!” 

The female dropped to her knees, hands clutching her throat as blood poured out in bubbly, gurgling spurts. The candy pink strips of her apron turned a wet, sticky black as she crawled back towards the door.

“Oh gods… Please,” she wheezed, wet and agonized, before collapsing face down on the floor. Motionless. 

You staggered to your feet twisting away from everyone crowding around you. 

“Don’t touch me. Don’t!” 

“Miss you must sit. Please—”

“Let me help—” 

“Are you hurt? What’s—” 

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!” 

Screams. The sound of doors slamming shut. Locks turning. Commanding barks calling for a healer. Calling for the High Lord and the High Lady. Calling for the Shadowsinger to help.

Azriel was still kneeling in front of that boy and no matter how many times you called his name and pushed through the crowd of people now rushing up and down the streets in a frenzy, he didn’t get up. He didn’t look at you. You may as well have not existed. 

You finally reached him, narrowly missing being run over by a satyr who seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about which direction to sprint in. Every clip clop of his hooves shot through you. 

“Az.” 

Why hadn’t… Why hadn’t he helped you? 

“Az.”

Why hadn’t he come when you called?

The Shadowsinger rose. One hand grabbed the hilt of Truth Teller and the malicious blade sang as it was unleashed. The shadows that normally hovered about him like mist were gone. They were all around you now, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the Sidra. They pleaded for you to run, but you couldn’t understand them.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

“Az.” You begged and grabbed hold of his hand. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

Truth Teller shot out and pain radiated up your arm as the blade cut neatly through your clothes and sliced open your skin. You tripped backward, landing with a thud on the street that rattled your bones. Your sleeve turned dark with blood. 

You whimpered, holding your ruined arm up to your chest. There was no feeling in Azriel’s eyes. No flicker of recognition. None of that warmth and kindness you were so accustomed to. Just a menacing, silent form towering over you and blocking out the sun. 

A pale boy stood by Azriel’s side with ice chip eyes and rectangular pupils. He grinned brightly and the stretch of his waxy cheeks was too tight. Too forced. He shouldn’t have been alive. He-he—

Andrian. 

You’d seen him in Henna’s memory. You’d heard the snap of his neck beneath Koschei’s hands. Even now the boy was bent awkwardly, his head left in a perpetual tilt that should have looked charming and inquisitive but instead made you want to retch.

Andrian smiled at you then plastered a practiced look of horror on his face before running away with tears streaming down his cheeks, shouting for his mother. A burly male grabbed his shoulders, alarm on his face as he hoisted Andrian into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. Because who wouldn’t stoop down to help a fragile little boy? Who would dare suspect that the daemati that had roamed the Day Court’s halls and slithered his way into Velaris was a child?

Azriel gripped you by the front of your ruined clothes, hosting you up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly and grabbed onto Azriel’s arm, trying to alleviate the choking pressure of his hand so close to your neck. 

“No. Azriel please. It’s me,” you whimpered. “It’s me.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. There and gone. So brief you wondered if you’d imagined it.

His left hand parted the tatters of your robes, and you flinched when his fingers brushed against your hip before settling on the chain that kept the book tied to you. 

Panic seized your soul. 

You’d been chipping away at the book’s secrets for months and you couldn’t let Azriel — couldn’t let Koschei — get his hands on it. Not without you knowing what it was that made Beth’s story so special.

You flung a hand out, feeling the leather of the book beneath your fingertips like it was your own skin. Your magic called out to the book, desperate and powerful and familiar, and the barriers it possessed to hide its secrets melted away at your beckoning. You poured every inch of your power into it even as Azriel’s lips turned down in an ugly frown that didn’t belong on his face. 

Your eyes turned to gold, bright as the sun as you basked in the knowledge flooding your mind with the force of a tsunami. You didn’t hold anything back. Not this time.

You were so lost in the book — in the emotions and memories wrapping around your mind, sharp and brighter than the light of a thousand suns — that you didn’t feel it when Azriel gripped that golden chain. The metal flared, a high-pitched ring piercing the air as it snapped in two, giving way to Azriel’s power. Nothing should have broken it. And yet there it was dangling from your waist.  

You did feel it when he broke your wrist. 

When he forced the book from your grasp. 

And then stabbed you in the stomach. 

Cassian and Nesta winnowed to the street and watched in horror as your body was dropped to the ground. Your head cracked the pavement, hands twitching palms up at your sides. 

Nesta shrieked. The sound was harrowing. The mourning, dying screams of an animal.  

She charged forward, twin blades flashing in her hands, and silver light shot out of her chest, crashing into Azriel’s shields and forcing him back twenty feet. He gritted his teeth. The rubber soles of his shoes skidded and burned. 

Cassian collapsed on his knees beside you, peeling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around your head and neck to keep it in place. 

“Shit.” His hands came away bloody. RHYS! FEYRE! He screamed into the corners of his mind, hoping they’d hear. GET HERE NOW! 

“Thanatos.” Your voice was weak.

“It’s Cass. Hey, keep your eyes on me ok.” He pressed his hands against your stomach, wings flared out to protect you from the cold burn of Nesta’s power as she went toe to toe with The Shadowsinger. Magic sizzled in the air, raising the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck like a lightning strike waiting to happen. Blood pooled over his hands, thick and dark. “Eyes open,” he commanded, “On me.”  

Your eyes were open, and glowing strangely, but you weren’t staring at Cassian. No. You were miles outside of your body. 

“The Bone Carver. That’s it.” 

“Eyes on me, Y/n. Eyes on me.” 

“Thanatos,” your hand twitched, “The Bone Carver. That’s how she did it.”

Nesta screamed, flying overhead in a burst of blue light that had her back slamming into one of the marketplace towers. The white marble cracked viciously and Nesta dropped to the ground, dazed and distracted as blood dripped out from her nose. 

“NESTA!” Cassian roared, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as Azriel waited at the bottom of the street. 

The Shadowsinger muttered something dark and revolting beneath his breath. Ancient, powerful words that were whispered in his mind. He held onto the book in his hands as it lit up in flames and then blew the ashes into the wind that would carry them all the way to Andrian’s master. 

Koschei.

The call of her mate sharpened her senses and Nesta rolled onto her feet, calling her weapons back into her hands and leveling a glare at Azriel that would have killed a lesser male on the spot. 

She was Nesta fucking Archeron. 

Lady Death. 

Queen of Queens. 

And she would be damned if she let Azriel hurt her or anyone else.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Az,” she growled. 

She’d been holding back before. She’d been holding back a long while. But no more of that. The power she let out burst through Velaris with light brighter than a dying star, crackling with an energy that knocked Azriel off his feet and sent him crashing into the river wall with a sickening crack that shattered the bones in his arm, his leg, and his wings. 

Rhys appeared at his side, violet eyes wide open in shock. He could feel the magic suffocating his brother’s consciousness, burying him so deep there was almost nothing left but anger behind his whiskey-brown eyes. 

Rhysand grabbed the sides of his head, shoving his way into Azriel’s mind even while he fought back. Rhys flinched when one of Azriel’s knives nicked his temple, drawing blood that dripped down onto his velvet dinner jacket and floated on the dense material like dew drops. 

“Stop. This isn’t you, Az.” 

Azriel seethed, teeth bared and bloody. He spit in Rhysand’s face and he winced. Rhysand would never be able to forgive himself for what he did next. But someone had burrowed themselves into Azriel’s mind so thoroughly, so viciously, that in that moment, it was the only thing Rhys could think to do. 

Rhysand’s talons dragged down on Azriel’s mental walls so viciously he screamed as they were torn to pieces. He dug in with brutal efficiency. Reaching, tearing, clawing to catch the curl of power that had infected Azriel’s mind before it could do any more damage. He latched onto its slithery, silver body and wrenched it out of Azriel’s consciousness. 

When I find you. You’re as good as dead. Rhysand promised. 

The daemati slunk away with a giddiness that sent a shiver through The High Lord’s bones. 

Azriel slumped, weak and boneless, against his brother’s shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and he shook, blinking the saltiness out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His bones were broken. His wings twisted. There was a raging headache that a hundred shots of vodka paled in comparison to. 

But it was his hands that horrified him most. Red and slippery. 

His breath shook.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember… what…. 

His eyes shot to Rhys, then up the street where he could make out Feyre, Cass, and Nesta huddled over your still body. The bond sat deep within him pulsing with terror and pain. 

“Rhys.” His voice broke. Rhysand angled his body to hide you from view, but it was too late. Azriel was panicking now, body trembling uncontrollably. “What happened?”

Rhysand said nothing. His eyes shined with horror. 

“What did I do? Rhys, what did I do?!” 

“Cass. Cassian, I’ve got her.” 

His hands were shaking. There was so much blood. The smell burned his nose and made him want to throw up his lunch. Feyre covered his hands with her own, peeling them away sticky and red from Y/n’s stomach. 

Light flooded out from Feyre’s palms, warm and lovely and Cassian and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief as the flow of red slowed and then stopped, flesh knitting itself back together. 

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok.” Nesta’s words were commanding as she held your neck and head still.

Your eyes searched the empty sky, seeing and unseeing. Then your hands shot up, grasping Feyre’s shoulders and digging in deep enough to leave bruises. Your eyes were wide, staring at her with an intensity that spoke of a thousand years. An unfathomable wealth of knowledge that should have crushed you beneath its weight. 

“Y/n it’s ok,” she murmured gently, pushing more power into your body, willing you to heal faster.

“Look. Feyre you need to look,” your voice was thick. Wet. Blood coated the inside of your mouth bitter and metallic. 

“I’m looking. Y/n, you hit your head. It’s going to be ok. You hear me? It’s going to be ok.” 

“You need to look,” you said once more.

You trailed a bloody, weak hand down Feyre’s arm and pulled her fingers up to your temple, tapping once. Twice. 

Without any more direction, she slipped into your mind and gasped.

Feyre stood in a pool of mist, white fingers reaching up her legs and splintering outwards before they changed direction and started to climb up into the darkness like trees. Or rather… like bookshelves. The mist formed stacks that disappeared into the distance, endless hallways and shelves that wound around each other. Chaotic and orderly at the same time. 

She could feel your presence beside her. Or rather she was you. In that moment she felt the raging winds of your power, hot and ravenous. It wrapped around you, tugging you to and fro like that uncontrollable lurch when you stand too close to the cliff’s edge. The call of the void.

She needed to answer that call the same way you did whenever you used your powers, because somewhere in the halls of your mind stood the knowledge you’d worked so hard to obtain. The truth of how it was Bethsevah Mordeigh was able to trap Koschei, and how to end it once and for all. 

Feyre let your magic pull her in the right direction. In the mist she stumbled upon the final memories you’d absorbed from the book before it had blown away in the wind.

Bethsevah wept, “No. No. No. I won’t,” shoving away the reed thin body that held her so close. Thanatos grasped her face in his pale hands, begging her to listen to him even as she shook her head frantically. “I won’t do it.” 

“You must. Bethsevah, you must.” His pitch black eyes winked with starlight… or maybe it was his tears. 

This world and its people had changed him. He could feel it in his bones. Something very deep and cruel within him had been twisted into something sacred. Something that toed the line of kindness. 

Koschei thought it was this element that made fae and humans beneath the three of them. They were supposed to be pure. Powerful. Handing out life and taking it away like the gods they were. But now Thanatos knew better. Now he knew exactly what it was that made Koschei and Stryga worse than even him — they would never be able to care for anyone. Not the way he cared for Bethsevah. Not the way he cared for the world she loved. 

“I won’t do it,” she growled.

“Then they’ll die,” he said, with a tone of finality that could only belong to a death god. “Everyone. Everyone you love. Everyone you care about. I know my brother. Koschei craves attention and devotion above all else. He won’t let you worship your Mother. He won’t stop until you all kneel or until you’re ashes in the wind. Beth—” He wrenched her hands back from where she covered her eyes, refusing to even look at him. 

He tucked his crooked finger beneath her chin, coaxing her gaze up. Together they were storm clouds blanketing an eternal night. A lightning strike — brief and chaotic and electrifying. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” she whispered, steel laced in her soft voice, “You don’t know what you’re offering.” 

He smiled, sad and simple. “I know exactly what I’m offering up.”

“Once I lock you in The Prison, I won’t be able to let you out. No one will. You’ll be trapped there for eternity.” She shivered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t wish that fate upon her worst enemy, but her mate? She shook her head. 

“I know.” 

“No, you—”

“I have seen the first fall of snow on a new world. I have seen entire cities leveled to dust with no survivors. I’ve lived thousands of years. I understand.”

“We’ll find a way. Kosch—” 

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered, “Back at the cabin? You were made to ruin me, Beth. And I will let you do it a million times over. Without hesitation.” 

You and Feyre felt Beth’s pain as acutely as if you shared the same heart.

“I wish she hadn’t done it,” Beth whispered, “I wish the Mother had never created me to be your mate.” 

“I don’t.” Thanatos leaned his forehead against Beth’s and got lost in her. “There is no other way, Bethsevah.” He kept saying her name, like just speaking the word and feeling the shapes it took in his mouth would prolong the time they had together. Would tie them together more surely than the bond that burned in their chests.

She felt the battleground slip beneath her feet and no amount of power, no amount of willpower, could change it. 

He brushed back her hair and trailed one of his slender fingers down the curve of her cheek ending one teardrop’s race to her chin. “Mating bonds are powerful things, Beth. Your magic — your blood — and yours alone will be able to cut through my defenses and sever me from my power. I want you to take it and lock me away. Once my magic is yours, Stryga won’t be able to see you coming and you’ll be able to take her power as well. So long as you leave Koschei for last it may just be enough power to rid him from this earth once and for all.” 

“You’d have me do this. Destroy you and your family. This is what you want?”

Thanatos hesitated. “I am not a good male. But this… this will have to be enough. This is what I want, Bethsevah. For you and your family to live. To be happy and safe.”

“I won’t be happy, “ she said, eyes now flat and dull as the silver coins they placed over the dead, “I won’t take anyone else.”

“I want you to,” he begged, “I want you to marry and to have children. I want you to grow your family so that one day, if I ever do make it out of that Prison, I’ll still see pieces and memories of you roaming this earth. That’s all I want, Bethsevah, and it’s already more than I deserve.” 

“I’ll find a way,” Beth promised. “I’ll find a way to get you out. I swear it.” 

“Don’t make any bargains with me.” He smiled sadly, thumb wiping away at her cheeks, “That’s what got us into this mess.”

Finally she laughed, just a little. “I don’t regret it.” 

“Neither do I.”

The memory froze. A moment in time trapped like a beetle in amber.

A hand grabbed Feyre by her shoulders and swung her around. You stood there cloaked in pale, golden light, your eyes shining like copper coins. When you opened your mouth, you spoke in Beth’s voice.

Thanatos told me that magic runs in blood — familiar, same. But mates are different. Powerful. Their magic can protect one another. Identify one another across space and across time. But they can also turn on each other viciously. A lock and a key. Madness and salvation.

What I could destroy in Thanatos, I stood a chance at destroying in his siblings.

Your face fell, hauntingly beautiful in the glow of your powers. 

But I couldn’t do it. Not in the way he asked. I took his power. I locked him in that Prison. I bound Stryga to her cabin in the woods. But I didn’t kill Koschei when I should have. When the power of three gods was coursing through my veins and stripping me down to my bones, when I had enough light within me to see the birth and death of stars and the face of the Mother, I couldn’t do it. 

I thought I would be capable of destroying Koschei and freeing Thanatos, but I couldn’t do either. I had only enough sanity left to take that power and bury it somewhere Koschei couldn’t touch. To trap him on the lake where he can live in madness knowing his magic is so close by and yet locked away. Unreachable. 

I’ve done my part. I’ve had my children. I’ve left my mark on the world, great and terrible as it is. If you’re reading this, my daughters, do what I could not. Take the power in the lake and destroy him. It will open for you, and only you. My power. My blood. 

And if you have any love for me at all, find a way to release Thanatos. That is what I ask of you.

Bethsevah’s calls had never been answered, at least not by her children. You knew this much in your heart. Thanatos — The Bone Carver — had freed himself thousands of years later only to die beneath the Cauldron’s power. 

You whispered a silent prayer to the Mother. You hoped the Bone Carver was at peace now. Now that he must be with his Beth. 

Azriel was screaming your name, broken cries cutting through the quiet of the marketplace. You’d never thought him capable of such a wretched noise. 

The High Lady sat shock still above you with tears streaming down her face. Grey eyes glistening.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

I apologize if you thought I'd forgotten about the plot with Koschei and was just writing cute, fluffy scenes between our favorite Librarian and our favorite Batboy. But you also should've remembered that I burned this girl's house down and had her kill a another character in self defense so... this was coming... sorry...

This is by far the chapter I've been most nervous about posting because it's where I start to tie together all the weird loose threads that have been accumulating throughout this story so I am very much open to feedback on how I can do things better and on how I can make things clearer moving forward. Or! If you thought I did a good job and are intrigued, I'd appreciate it if you let me know that too!

But anyway thanks for reading 😅.

[sst0rmm]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ in the mornings ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ft: rin.

notes: just pure sunshine fluff ✧˖°.

part/series: 1.0 2.0 3.0

wc: 1328

he's doesn't wake you up, and prefers to let you sleep the night away to your heart's content (sleeping makes you happy), and he notices and cares about that.

it's the little things....

rin wakes up early before you. he's always been an early bird, up as soon as the sun rises, and a sleepy saturday is no exception. so you're left to be woken up by the birds chirping and the sun shining and the smell of your favorite food wafting through the open doorway. and you'll get up, slowly walk your way downstairs.

the moment's surprisingly domestic, rin's shirtless and clad in an apron (even though it's a little drafty downstairs), you're in his shirt, and for a second there's nothing but the sound of sizzling bacon reverberating on the walls and making you feel completely at home.

"did you sleep well?" you smile, because you suddenly feel refreshly rejuvenated.

"yeah, i really, really did."

rin is SUCH a sweetheart dasifjsdiofjjjsfdi LMAOO like...

you cannot prove me wrong once he gets to know you he's literally warm and allasdfjdfoi

and his cooking's mad scrumptious i am telling u

breakfast, as usual is warm and lifts you up. down to your veins, the utter core and heart of your being, because you can tell that he made it with love, and that's most important. and once you're done, you make a move to go do the dishes, but he won't let you. (the man's serious, what can i say?)

"i can do it-"

"don't worry," rin pulls you into a swift hug and you're suddenly surrounded by a cocoon of strong, comforting arms, "i got it."

"but you already cooked? we should split-"

rin looks at you fondly, amusement glimmering in teal eyes. it's a look that can stop time, shatter you, and pick you up anew. it's the look of the sunsets you saw together last september, and it's that look of pure adoration and love.

"you should rest," he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek that leaves your stomach whirling and your nerves dancing alight. "you're worth it."

oh if you only knew HOW BAD i need a rin in my life

we all need a rin tbh because he's sooo sweet and so caring when he's comfy around you

+ a little jelly bcs !!!!

this next scene is utter beauty... you'll see...

waking up is hard when you're utterly entangled in the strong arms of the one you love.

the sun hums softly through the windows, blanketing everything in golden radiance. a clear, blue expanse of sky gazes down at you from above. the clock blinks at you in soft red letters the time (11 P.M.), but neither of you seem to make a move to get up.

it’s the power of a sleepy saturday.

a soft murmur (the doorbell) cuts through your haze of thoughts. “i’ll get it-” rin starts but you push the covers back onto him, pressing him back down onto the soft mattress.

“don’t worry, i got it,” you smile, and he wraps you in a warm hug.

“if you’re gone too long, i’ll miss you!” he calls over your shoulder. you smile back at him. it’s so easy to fall back into that comforting, perfect rhythm, where it’s just the two of you. indelible touches and soft warmth, broken down to sand, it’s just the two of you. against the world, fighting together, the two of you.

your heart blossoms with a warmth that swells from your head down to the very core of your being, and sits happily there, a pleasant, steady heat that makes the silence feel so full.

at your door’s a cute, smiling pizza man.

“delivery for y/n?” he smiles down at you, while holding that cardboard box.

“thanks so much!” you turn to grab your wallet from the counter, and come back right after. the air’s crackling with some unspoken tension, and you feel and hear movement behind you, but you disregard it.

inhaling the aroma of cheesy goodness, you feel oddly refreshed.

the man looks you up and down, and you suddenly realize you’re in a ratty set of pajamas and cross your arms over yourself a little self-consciously.

“the weather’s gorgeous today, isn’t it?” the man smiles and you find it in yourself to smile back. he’s just being nice, you chide yourself.

“yeah-” you start, “it really, really is.”

as you move to swipe your credit card across the gleaming screen of the touchless payment scanner, your feet get caught on the rug and you fall down, down, down…

right into the pizza guy’s arms. as your cheeks color and flame, and you murmur a hasty apology and scramble away, the man smirks.

“fell for me already, didn’t you?”

you wince. he’s cute, with warm eyes and dimples, but he’s no rin itoshi. “actually,” you start, “i’m flattered, but i’m not interested.”

the guy looks at you in surprise. “what, do you have a boyfriend or someth-”

immediately, rin’s presence materializes by you as if summoned. it’s a little uncanny, you think to yourself. and you have to admit, seeing rin stare down his opposition is a sight to see.

it doesn’t help the other guy’s case that rin’s fit as anything, either. just the glare he gives his opponents is enough to make them recoil. he crosses his arms over his broad chest and gives the delivery guy a penetrating stare. (you feel a little bad for this poor pizza man). but also, it fills you with molten heat and just love that rin would even care about these little things.

“yeah,” rin drawls underneath the summer sun, “she does have a boyfriend.” he wraps his bicep around your waist and tugs you close.

“so if i were you,” rin leans in towards the guy and whispers, “i’d probably leave now.”

somehow, the pressured worker manages to keep his wits intact. “you haven’t paid-”

“i’ll handle it, y/n,” rin whispers in your ear and waves you off. as you sit down on your sofa and calm your racing heart, you’re hit with such a wave of emotion that your heart weeps. because you’re rin itoshi’s, and he doesn’t care if the whole world knows it.

rin’s by your side minutes later and he sees your tears. “why’re you crying? is it me- don’t cry because of me-” he hugs you close, and wipes away your tears with gentle fingers.

“i’m not sad, rin,” you smile up at him, “happy tears. happy because you love me, and you don’t care if the whole world knows it-”

“even if you are a jealous-”

he pulls you in close and whispers fiercely. “damn right i’m jealous, because i got the best person in the world right beside me. and i’ll never let you go, and i’ll always love you. let the world say what they want to say, because you’re mine.”

“i love you too, rin-”

and then he pulls you into a searing kiss, embedding himself into your very soul and your entire mind is consumed with just rin itoshi. featherlight touches leave trails of heat down your face, and you breathe a soft sigh.

because rin in the mornings (and any other time) is truly just a sight to behold.

“say it,” rin murmurs and pulls away. you’re both breathing a little heavy and he looks at you with such love and emotion in his eyes that you know what he needs.

“i’m yours.”

the next kiss sends off fireworks in your heart and ignites your world in a blaze of life because you’re rin’s, he’s yours, and the two of you together are unstoppable.

there will be ups and downs. highs of unimaginable greatness and lows and worlds of hurt. but you’ll get through it.

together.

OH MY GOD MWA MWA MWA AHHHHHH

rin is truly the best lover when he's with you, i refuse to believe othwerise.... well i know he''ll prob be AWKWARD and cold at first.. (i'll totally do an arranged marriage sitch on my ao3 oh i love the idea already)

stay tuned for part two (guess which character in comments!!! or request which one im open) i'll link it under the series column when it's rdy ;)

thank u sm for reading, and thank you to @enchanthings for these lovely page dividers. grateful foreva 🫶

(rin pics bcs i love him sm, look at that penetrating stare and bro has hella eyelashes..)

ASJFDSOIF ok THANKS FOR REEADING AGAIN!!

part two is up and linked!!! happy reading :)

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ vox + marking you

character: vox warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, marking/branding (carving something into the skin), blood, toxic relationship, extreme possessiveness, daddy kink, dacryphilia, fem!reader, minimal/no prep, dubcon if you squint, pet names, painful sex, reader doesn’t get to orgasm words: 1.8k notes: vox likes to mark what belongs to him. permanently. and, as always, that mark must be perfect.

He’s been at it for nearly half an hour now, a slow drag of his index claw downward, pressure concentrated on the very point of the talon, following the line of a perfect slant before sharply pivoting upward, velocity slowing as it works back toward your hips, tracing another slant perfectly parallel to the first. 

V. 

A split second of reprieve, a single instant where the metal leaves your skin only to find the origin of the wound and begin the process all over again. 

“V-Vox—”

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” he warns, his voice low and airy, so close and concentrated on his work that you can feel his breath wafting over the cut, cool and burning. 

Cyan pupils pulse as they expand, desperate to devour as much as they can, scouring every minute detail and honing their focus on the singular letter he’s painstakingly carving into your pubic bone.

He’s meticulous with it, of course, just as he is with everything else, every movement precise and perfect. It has to be done this way, he had told you at the start, when you had whined about the deliberately drawn-out drag of his talon. Slow and steady, so it will heal in sharp, neat lines, all raised and gorgeous. 

A permanent mark of ownership, scarred into your skin for the rest of eternity.

The tapered tip of the V is the worst part, the harsh, quick maneuver of his claw procuring a deep sting, a yelp sticking in your throat as you try to swallow against the sound, Vox’s immediate responding coo, always accompanied by the brush of his thumb over your hip in the gentlest caress, doing little to soothe the pain. 

“But it—it hurts,” you hiccup out, eyes squeezing shut tightly against the prick of tears. “How much longer?” 

“Just a few more times, baby, I promise,” he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “You’re doing so well for me, lovebug, so well.”

But a few more times turns into another agonizing fifteen minutes with seemingly no end in sight, Vox lost in the repetitive actions, and the wound is starting to tingle, sticky crimson pooling in the flawlessly carved gouges, staining teal bright red. 

Tears have begun to leak from the corners of your eyes as they finally overflow, spilling past your lash line to stream down the sides of your temples in uneven little trails, vision gone blurry with a thick shield of water.

Your ribs stammer with half-stifled sobs, a soft hush distractedly falling from Vox’s lips with each minuscule jerk of your body, the hand on your hip tightening in warning. 

“Daddy’s almost done, darling,” he pacifies, a gentle threat sewn into his tone—don’t fucking move yet—we’re so close, don’t you dare mess this up. “Just a tiny bit longer, I swear.” 

“I can’t, I can’t, Daddy, it’s—it’s too much!” 

“Hey,” he looks up, a shock of sincerity slapped across his face, his voice ringing with painfully raw compassion. “I know you can handle just a few more for Daddy, can’t you? Don’t you want it to look pretty, too?”

Large eyes search your face with a rabid type of candour, hunting for validity. But your head is already nodding before he’s even finished speaking, motions becoming increasingly vigorous, an instinctual reaction, at this point—obedient as ever, desperate to please.

Of course you do—you want whatever he does, always. 

“Y-Yes,” you manage to sniffle out, the heels of your hands wiping messily at your lashes, smearing tears across your cheeks. “Yes, yes, Daddy.” 

His eyes soften, their usually bold glow dimmed with a sick sort of adoration, but his smile is barbed, stretching with something sinister. 

“There’s my good girl,” Vox purrs, pressing another tender kiss to the junction of your thigh and your hip. “Now, hold still while Daddy finishes.”

Another three traces through the routine—these last three harder and more purposeful than all those that came before them—and finally, he’s done, sitting back on his heels between your spread legs and gazing down at his masterpiece. 

Blood drips down his index finger in a thick dollop, his eyes shifting to watch with morbid fascination, the tip of his claw glazed with shimmering scarlet. Tilting it one way, then the other, he examines how it gleams in the low light of his bedroom—so pretty, he looks so pretty stained with you—then brings the talon to his lips, long tongue snaking from between his teeth to curl around it in a possessive embrace. 

He sucks it into the heat of his mouth, a low groan rumbling deep behind his sternum as his eyes slip shut, taking a moment to savour the taste of you. His lids snap back open a moment later, eyes drifting back to the freshly etched V, his free hand moving to rub at his cock, straining eagerly against his trousers. 

“F-Fuck,” he shudders out, the word soft as he stares at it, wide and unblinking, rolling the impressive bulge in his palm in lopsided little circles, then grinding the heel of his hand into it, his hips twitching up instinctively. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, okay, princess?” 

Your head is nodding, but you’re barely able to utter out an affirmative, because then he’s surging forward, a palm cupping your jaw as his fingers hook behind the hinge, pulling your face towards his and smashing your lips together. Bursts of copper explode on your tastebuds as he drags his tongue across yours—the slick muscle stronger, larger, wider as it shoves its way into your mouth, impelling your own tongue further into the hot, wet cavern. 

It’s sloppy and slippery and so, so sexy, his claws piercing your skin with superficial little pricks as he tries to yank you closer, your nose scrunched against his screen. Obscene squelching echoes throughout his bedroom as your lips glide and nip, copious amounts of drool, tinged pink with your blood, oozing from the corners of your conjoined mouths, leaving your chins shining with spit.

He overrides your senses, overwhelms your receptors and infuses your mind with nothing but him—his taste, smoky spice infused with metallic notes; his scent, sharp balsam and expensive cologne; his touch, still burning at the apex of your thighs, a constant reminder, an everlasting claim. 

A sharp gasp breaks the kiss as he forces his cock inside of you, forehead knocking against your own with a dark growl as his hips rock forward, burying himself in your cunt in a single, fluid motion.

Large hands curl around your hips, pinning them in place and keeping you from squirming away as he ruts into you, grinding his cockhead further into your cervix, ensuring he’s buried as deep as he possibly can be.

A singular moment, a breath shared between the two of you, oxygen sparse and dizzying as he takes time to revel in the feeling of filling you to the hilt, your sweet little hole spasming around him as it stretches and splits, eager to accommodate his girth, to gorge on his flesh.

Leaning back on his haunches, he drags your hips along with him, tailbone resting on his folded thighs, your knees thrown over either side of his hips. 

There’s no warning, no slow start or gradual build up, his cock slamming into you searing and sudden, fucking a gorgeous cry of his name from your throat. 

His chest heaves with ragged exhales as his hips pump, hard and fast and rough, voracious gaze swapping between your bouncing tits and the crisply engraved V glittering up at him on your pubic bone, still coloured with blood, drizzling past the scrupulously incised grooves with each vicious ram to stream down your skin, leaving tiny streaks of red.

The gash enchants him, pupils swollen as they soak up the sight, captivated by the way it quivers with every ruthless thrust into you, watching each drive of his cock as he sheathes himself in your cunt. The glistening arousal coating his shaft contrasts the blood so perfectly, the hands on your waist yanking downward with every jackhammer of his hips, forcing you to meet his motions. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s snarling as he fucks you, the word punched from his chest with each plunging thrust. 

“Yours, Daddy,” you sob out with messy little nods, dainty fingers braceletting his wrists, nails sinking into thin skin as you cling to him. “Yours, yours!” 

“No one gets to have you like this,” he gasps out, voice gone hoarse. “No one, tell me.” 

“No one—No one gets to have me like this but you, Da-Daddy,” you nearly wail, staring up at him with such bright devotion it almost hurts, your gaze lacquered with tears. 

“Ah, fuck,” he whimpers, the curse shattering on his tongue, his eyes shutting tightly for a moment before springing back open, gaping and gluttonous. “Yeah, yeah, you’re goddamn right.”

His motions have turned downright brutal now, every pound of his cock more merciless than the last, the strike of his hips jostling your entire body up the mattress, just barely held in place by the grip of his claws, razored points puncturing your flesh and scraping, tiny trickles of blood oozing from the lacerations.

“Your mind, your cunt, your fucking soul—it all belongs to me,” digitized blood drips from the corner of his mouth, the glaring glow of his eyes so brilliant it’s hard to bear, casting a flare of red across your skin.

“Yes, yes, y-yes,” you’re babbling out, gone delirious with the heady intoxication of pain and pleasure, fingers digging into his flesh in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. “You own me, Vox.” 

“Oh, Christ—” 

The confirmation has him cumming quickly, hips pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs violently, stuffing you full with copious amounts of thick, burning cum. His body stills, keeping his hips shoved up against you, almost as if he’s trying to plug you, to keep his seed inside of you, to claim you from the inside out. 

But it’s so much—too much—and you can feel it exuding past his shaft to dribble down your skin, leaving behind streams of pretty pearlescent strokes.  

Finally, he pulls out of you, another cracked curse falling from his lips as he watches with a sort of sordid obsession, his cock glazed with his cum and your blood, the tops of his thighs smeared with his own essence. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers to himself, claw reaching out to trace the V again, a hiss spit from between your teeth, body trembling with the effort to stay still, to resist flinching away from his stinging touch, to be good for him. “So fucking perfect.” 

Slinking down the bed, he wedges his head between your spread thighs to inspect the wound more thoroughly, teal tongue unfurling from his mouth to lave over the deep cut, mopping up excess blood as he follows the contours carefully once, twice, three times.  

“Mine,” he murmurs, planting a gentle kiss atop the wound, sealing the breathy claim into your flesh. “Mine, forever.”

“Yours,” you whisper, looking down at him as your finger outlines the V affectionately, a loving caress of what he’s gifted you. “Yours, forever.”

[doki-doki-imagines]

wc: 10k (next time I write this much shoot me down from the start) author note: wrote this to celebrate one year since I have been writing for bllk! Since my first post was about Sae I thought to celebrate with a fic about him. If you know me a bit, you know Sae is far from being one of my faves so I feel like a clown writing this much for him sob.

tw: none. 10k words of fluff more or less.

If you like my writing consider supporting me on ko-fi!

You are sitting on an iron bench, wet from head to toe, with no way to protect yourself from the incessant rain. Your makeup is ruined and tears can’t be discerned from the droplets of rain running down your face.

You look desperate and there is no need to look at your face to understand that, you supporting your head with your hands is enough, crouched on yourself, sighs sound dulled by the downpour.

“You look pathetic.”  It’s a familiar voice, one that makes your skin crawl and now increases your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You look up and you see him, in all his cold beauty. He is wearing a brown boiled wool coat, underneath a turtleneck black sweater peaking out. He is looking down at you, like a high-class rich when he sees a snotty kid, the grey umbrella covers a bit his face, but those ice irises pierce your figure anyway.

“Sae-“ You whisper out your voice full of disbelief and shame.

But how did you find yourself in such a miserable situation? We have to go back a bit.

One year ago

You have never been a fan of parties, they can be a good way to unplug your brain for a bit before going back to normal life. But after a while you need a break, the music and sweaty bodies overwhelm your senses. Your friend Elisa stays back, a guy caught her attention but she asks where you’ll go, in case she won’t see you for long.

You go outside, the cold breeze of winter hits your naked skin making you shiver, but at least you can now breathe. There is nobody else outside other than you and a red hair sitting on the small brick wall on the opposite side of the entrance. You decide to sit there too, at a safe distance not wanting to bother him but close enough to start a chat in case you stay there a little longer than needed.

You look around a bit, breathing in and out while you notice the leaves moving and bushes filled with trash. It’s not a great sight and for sure straining your sight for that doesn’t seem a good idea, so your eyes fall on the stranger sitting next to you. He is now checking his phone, red strands framing his face. You notice his long lashes, it’s always guys that have the crazy luck to have doe lashes, the lower ones touching the apple of his cheeks. He looks young, but he has a mature aura around him, an idea that comes from both his posture and his clothes. The sky-blue shirt he is wearing must be crazy expensive-

“Can you stop looking at me?” You widen your eyes, now comically big.

“You mean-“ You point a finger towards yourself, but you can’t finish the phrase that the guy snaps back.

“Yes, you. Stop looking at me.” He finally faces you, his teal eyes staring at you as you’d do with a cockroach; the same amount of disgust.

He stands up now in front of you “You must be the friend of my physiotherapist, right?”

You nod. After all, it is thanks to her if tonight you are here, at a party full of famous football players and hot beyond imagination models…you must stick out like a sore thumb.

“I guess you recognized who I am. Please, stop. I don’t want to know you, I don’t have time for a relationship.”

Your mouth is wide open.

“I don’t know who you are-“

“Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” He doesn’t even wave back, he just gives you his back and walks away.

You have never felt so angry in your life, and you had to deal with a lot of assholes to reach this point in your life.

You stomp inside, searching for Elisa to ask what the fuck is wrong with people and you find there, the guy from before still next to her but there are also other guys and girls and him. The first reaction is to walk away, possibly closing yourself inside the bathroom until they finished chatting or, at least, that guy walked away, but luck isn’t on your side your friend already waving at you signaling to go sit with her.

There is just your friend's body between you and that guy, but this time it’s your eyes that throw daggers at him every time he just even breathes your way; he doesn’t seem to care and it angers you even more.

“Oh let me present you to Sae! He is the football guy I work for!” She said looking at you with a smile that goes from one ear to the other, alcohol playing crazy tricks in her mind not to notice your cracked mood. You extend your hand, trying to be a decent person and you see him sighing. Why punching idiots is not acceptable in modern society? Maybe because you probably wouldn’t be able to stop, after hitting that ugly mug the first time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sae.” Your smile is fake, but you think you do a good job of hiding your feelings. The handshake is short, but while you tighten the grip to show you aren’t a weakling, the red hair slips his hand away the second your palms touch.

“Call me Itoshi.”

“Mh? Is that your name?”

“No, it’s my surname. I don’t like strangers to call me by my name.” He replies, back now hitting the red sofa of the club, looking somewhere on the dancefloor, probably at the butt of some dancer.

You look straight into the eyes of your friend and something finally clicks in her mind because you see cold sweat forming on her forehead after the interaction you had with Sae. No, wait. Itoshi.

“Well, guys-“ She claps her hand “it’s time for us to go, thanks for having us.” She stands up and you follow while she finishes to say goodbye to her colleagues. “See you tomorrow, Sae. Don’t exaggerate with drinks!” It’s clearly a joke, her tongue pokes out and Sae smiles back at her.

He would be cute. If only he isn’t such a shit. Your heart almost jumped with joy when the corner of his lips turned upwards, but your brain, thankfully reminded your body how he treated you a few minutes ago.

The walk towards your friend’s car is silent, the people inside the club making enough noise. Your silence gets broken when you enter the vehicle, before your friend can turn the engine on she stares at you.

“I leave you alone a few minutes and you get in a catfight with my client, really?” There is no real anger in her voice, knowing her position isn’t in danger. So you explode at her, telling her chapter and verse of what happened between you two.

“Is he always such an asshole? I feel sorry for you, I hope he pays you enough.” Your friend’s head hits the headrest, and a loud bubbly laugh escapes her mouth.

“Is he worse? Fuck maybe you should change job-“

“No, no. It’s that I invited you tonight because I hoped you could get together in the future.” Her voice is often broken by laughter and finally, anger free, you remember that she probably has drunk too much.

“Let’s switch, you are drunk.”

“No, c’mon. Sae is usually nice! He is a bit cold, but I thought a partner, or just a friend-” and it’s not hard for you to imagine he has nobody to talk with, every time he opens his mouth it’s the same as having two fingers in your eyes “You are also single, so I thought it could work out!” She slaps your shoulder and keeps giggling and now you are sure that you need to be the one to drive you both home.

“Don’t ever leave your job, you suck at playing Cupid-“ You giggle too, finally switching places and driving you both home.

The drive is filled with useless chatter, your friend seemed really into that dude of before, Leonardo is his name? Tomorrow with a more lucid mind you’ll dig more into your friend's new crush.

And you hope you’ll soon forget about that asshole of teammate too.

8 months ago

 When you return home after an intense day of work, the bare minimum you request is complete relaxation. No parties, no worries, no discussions; it’s the perfect way to welcome the weekend.

What you don’t want is to get jumpscared before you can even step in, a certain teal-eyed dude the first thing your eyes see.

“Fuck!” You are tempted to close the door, maybe it’s all your imagination and when you reopen he, the Itoshi, won’t be there anymore. But you don’t live in a fantasy world, sadly, so you know you’ll have the accept your fate.

“What happened?” It’s your friend’s voice screaming from the kitchen.

“Nothing, I’ve just seen a cockroach.” You reply with a monotone voice, closing the door with your foot.

You look better at the intruder, sitting on your couch. One hand has the remote, zapping between the channels, the other lying on the top of the furniture, fist keeping up his head.

He turns to look at you “Did you see yourself in the mirror?” And the sudden urge to hit him with the house key pervades your body. You groan at his comment, but decide to drop the topic; you have no energy to get angry.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you before but Sae is staying with us this week. His apartment is flooded and all his teammates couldn’t help him out.” She comes into the living room with a bowl of…freshly cut vegetables? You suppose it was your guest's request, as much as Elisa likes carrots there is no way this was a choice born from her brain.

Now you know why she didn’t tell you anything about it. You would have taken a hotel room and made Elisa pay for it if you knew what was going on. He, at least, thanks her and it surprises you because you thought he didn’t know what manner are. Or common courtesy.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” You sigh, your mind already adjusted to the idea of having that dude in your house. ‘It won’t be forever. Calm down. Don’t shout, don’t get angry.’ You repeat to yourself while wearing the comfiest pj in your wardrobe; you need it.

When you go back into the living room the film was already chosen, but you don’t mind, so tired that you know you’ll fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. The chat gets louder and definitely pick your interest.

“We both go to medical field universities! I finished my studies at home and as you know I work here, but-“ Elisa points her index finger at your figure, a fluffy cover hiding your body all crouched up on a side of the couch not to touch, or just get near, the guest “She is still studying to become a doctor! She will stay here one year and then she will need to go back home to finish her studies, right?”  You nod at your friend's words, now looking at the film.

“The film isn’t bad.” You whisper, humming in agreement.

“It was my choice.” A deeper voice replies back, it’s Sae.

You look at him until you meet his teal eyes. You see an equal amount of tiredness in his eyes and you seem to silently agree not to sassy reply back.

You are able to look at the film without falling asleep, at times you can feel Elisa asking stuff to Sae but you are too distant to understand what they say.  There is a pang of jealousy that stabs your heart, usually, you chat with Elisa while watching films and you don’t like the idea of being substituted by him.

You try to brush away the feeling. Maybe she is the one who has a crush on him, and even if you think she has questionable taste you won’t put yourself against their love. You yawn the second the end credits start to roll. You decide to go to bed, since you have no strength to add yourself to their pillow-talk, in the shared room you have to Elisa.

“I’ll come soon too.” She whispers while you nod, walking away; probably she wants a moment with her crush. You don’t even hear her opening the door, your brain voyaging dreamland the second your head hit the pillow.

You are the first to wake up in the morning, you step toward the kitchen trying not to wake up your roommate, and start to prepare coffee for the both of you. You are so used to making it that it becomes an automatism. It’s when the moka is on the fire that you start to look around, noticing a package that definitely wasn’t yours or of Elisa.

“That’s mine.” You hear croaking behind you, the sound makes you jump on your place.

“Yeah, it seemed pretty obvious. What is it? Some kind of tea?”

“Yes, it is salted kombucha tea. Want to try it?”

You snort and Sae looks at you questioningly, probably thinking his pronunciation is wrong.

“I hate tea. I’m team coffee.” You say pointing with your thumb to the moka, now gurgling a sign that your coffee is ready. Sae looks at you with disgust, a face you know pretty well by now.

“We are really different.”

“I was thinking that too.” You say now giving him the back to take the cups on the high shelf, a spoonful of sugar in your cup, nothing in Elisa's one.

Meanwhile, he has moved, opening the window of your kitchen. Summer is starting but the weather is still acceptable, morning breeze is a nice way to freshen the house.

“You want to make your own tea or I can do it for you? Do you trust me?” You say smirking, already knowing the answer.”

“I prefer to make it myself.”

You nod, a Chesire smirk plastered on your face. You point out where he can find the kettle, now sitting on the table, right next to the window, your head supported by your right hand.

He soon sits in front of you with his cup of tea, he looks outside for a moment, giving you the possibility to admire his features again.

He has a nice jaw, his skin is pretty smooth, probably he doesn’t have much beard, his upper lip is arched perfectly, his lips plump but not too big or better, they suit his face. His nose is slightly pointed upwards-

“You like to stare.”

Your head slid comically; you got caught, again.

“It happens when I look at beautiful stuff.” Really, the comment slips from your mouth before you can bite your tongue. But you feel him choking on his tea and it soothes the pain.

“You are also bold.” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, with such hatred in his eyes you almost worry to have done something way worse than throwing a compliment in his way.

“I just like to joke around.” You smile in your cup, a smile that grows wider when his eyebrows comically drop.

You hear him clicking his tongue, but you don’t say anything more.

You both finish your beverages, but Elisa is still sound asleep.

“Shouldn’t you wake her up?”

“Today is her free day, let her relax a bit.” You reply, putting his cup into the dishwasher.

You see uneasiness in his eyes, there is something he needs to tell you, so you make the first move as a good host.

“Is there something you need?”

“Usually I do yoga and meditate. Can you go out.” He formulated it as a request, but it sounded like an order in your ears.

“Can’t you do it in the living room? Or your bedroom?” You propose.

“My bedroom is too small. There are no windows in the living room and I’d prefer to breathe fresh air.”  You nod, his reasoning makes sense and there isn’t else you need to do in the kitchen.

“Can you teach me?” You propose half to piss him off, half because you suffer from terrible neck pain and you know yoga could help you out.

You notice how bad he takes it and you bask in the sensation of being finally able to take a rise of him.

“Don’t you have to go to university? Or I don’t know, student stuff?” He says it fast and makes you chuckle.

“It’s too early! I have all the time of the world now.” You get near him, trying to muster up the nicest puppy eyes ever done “I swear I’ll be a good student and won’t joke around.”

“No.”  Your nice façade drop.

“You are a real pain.”

“Look at yourself before saying that.” He looks at you with the same eyes as your encounter. The best choice is to leave him alone, and you do, but not without grumbling.

When you enter your bedroom Elisa is wide awake, already dressed for the day reading a book, a fantasy you guess knowing her taste.

“Mh? Elisa why are you here? You didn’t want to have breakfast with Mr. Sourpuss?” She clearly didn’t notice you entering the bedroom. She closes the book and smiles at your comment.

“I didn’t want to bother your bonding time.” She sing-sangs, book placed on the night table.

“Is this a way to force me to like your new boyfriend?”  Your eyes pierce her figure, muscles tense, trying to grasp any twitch or wince on her face. But nothing comes, if anything she replies to you with a pure laugh, not a fake one.

“I don’t see Sae that way, you dunce-“ Elisa stands up, hands now on your shoulders shaking you “I really think you can get along, please give him a chance.” She says exasperated.

“Tell him that, he is always an ass with me, and please-“ You say removing her hands from your shoulders “Stop playing Cupid, it’s really not your job.” You go towards your wardrobe ready to change for the day while Elisa keeps whining but no words get registered in your brain.

You don’t see anybody for lunch, so you spend a quiet afternoon at home, reviewing your notes and refreshing the lesson of the previous day.

Elisa is the first to come home, there is still light outside thanks to the longer summer days and she helps you out cooking dinner.

“We have to cook something healthy, you know-“ She winks “For our guest.”

Damn, for a second you forgot about him. “Shouldn’t he cook? So we are sure to prepare the right stuff.”

“I don’t know how to.” You hear from the living room, it’s his voice. You walk to the living room and you see him, freshly showered you guess from the soft soap smell coming from him and with two bags containing what you guess is food.

“I asked my private chef to cook for all of us.” He says placing the bag on the coffee table in the living room.

“Thanks, Sae!” Elisa says “Let me take these to the kitchen, I’ll prepare the table.”

“Do you need help?” Elisa brushes off your question “I know how to put a tablecloth and cutlery.”

To you, it sounded like an excuse to make you stay alone with the redhair.

“Thanks, Itoshi.” You hate how his surname rolled on your tongue, but you had to accept it.

He nods, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You don’t miss to notice how at home he already feels; for sure he has good adaptation skills.

“So, how was your day?” You try to small chat, to break the unbearable silence it was already forming.

“Like always.” His answer is curt, but you can’t understand if it is because he doesn’t want to talk or just because it is him.

“And yours?” This surprises you.

“It was a good day. I was able to take a lot of good notes and the lesson was interesting.”

He nods at your words “I suppose it is hard.”

“Yes, but it is also really rewarding. For example-“ You start to blabber, and you notice it but you can’t stop, excitement guiding you even if you know your interlocutor has little to no interest in what you are saying. Embarrassing.

“Hey! It’s ready.” It’s Elisa that save you, stopping your blabbering. “What were you talking about?” She asks, curiosity evident.

You’d like to reply but you are too astonished by the food in front of you. Everything looked mouth-watering, you didn’t even know food could get such vivid colors, not to talk about the smell-

“She was telling me about her cardiac surgery lessons.” Sae replies for you, thankfully your eyes are already comically wide thanks to the food in front of you so nobody notices your surprise at his words.

So he was listening?

“Oh! I’m happy you are finally knowing each other, but now let’s eat! We don’t want the food to get cold.” You both nod at Elisa words and damn the food was as beautiful as it was delicious. There is not much chat, enjoying the meal in silence, just the background sound of the television to keep you company.

“Hey, you should accompany Sae to the aquarium one of these days.” Elisa says with a voice full of cheer. It doesn’t take much for you to understand where she took that idea, the advertisement of the aquarium still going on television.

“Well, it all depends on Sae, he has really strict hours-“

“Let’s go tomorrow. I have no training to do.” He says, no real force behind his words like he is just accepting his fate.

You gasp a bit “Oh, okay then. Is it fine in the afternoon?”

He nods, slurping down some of his cold noodles, you can only wish your technique will ever be as good as his, not a single drop of oil staining his shirt or mouth.

The dinner ends quietly, you place the crockery in the dishwasher and go directly into your bedroom.

The morning comes awfully quick and you feel even more tired than when you went to sleep. You proceed with your morning routine, not Elisa nor Sae insight so you take it easy. After you prepare yourself you go back to your books, your attention often grasped by anything going on.

Your attention gets caught one more time by a notification on your phone; it’s Eliza.

“Got a cute lunch date with a cutie. Try not to kill Sae and have a nice date &lt;3” Ugh. She can be so pushy at times. You sigh and notice the hour, it’s time to eat.

When you enter the living room you notice Sae already made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I tried to be silent. I was doing yoga so I didn’t make much sound.” He replies, boredom dripping from his voice as usual. You nod “Are we blessed again by your chef's food today or I’m on my own?”

“The latter.”

“Oh! Can I make you piadina? It’s an easy dish to make.”

He turns around, teal eyes finally looking at you “What are the ingredients?”

“It’s easy! It’s more or less a circle of bread that gets folded this way and you can choose how to fill it.” You walk near him and show him the screen of your phone, the picture on it the perfect example of a perfect piadina.

“So…I can choose something different than fried potato, right?”

“Yes, you fill it with whatever you want. Simply sausage and fried potatoes with pepperoni is a classic match.” He looks at you with disgust, and at this point it makes you laugh.

“Not a fan? I swear the match is heavenly.”

“Aren’t you a doctor? You should know fried potatoes are toxic to the body.” This time you chuckle out loud.

“Fried potatoes are the last thing you should worry about between the ingredients I told you. And anyway-“ You sign to him to walk with you towards the kitchen “You won’t die eating it once in a while.”

“I don’t know anything about this stuff. I just go with what my manager and dietologist tell me.” He replies, pointing to the fridge with the ingredients he wants.

“No? For real?” You start to cook his one, the guest always comes first.

“Yeah, other than football I don’t know much else.” You notice a hint of sadness in his voice, irises darkening a bit and it tickles something in the back of your brain.

“Well, next time why don’t you help me cook? You may have a personal chef but it is nice to have different skills.”

He nods, he doesn’t burst with joy, but he seems serious. You give him his dish, arugula, and tomatoes. You do the same, half because you like the match and the other half because you don’t want to prepare other ingredients.

You eat in silence, something you already expected.

“Are you ready to go to the aquarium?” You ask, putting the dish in the dishwasher.

He nods giving you his one. Previously Sae asked you if you wanted to go by car “If you don’t trust me I can always call my driver” but you refused his offer, telling him that you’d bring him there gladly and with the perfect vehicle for such a sunny day.

“Good, get ready because my vehicle is amazing.” He bends his head a little, confused by your words, but doesn’t inquire more. He supposes it will be a surprise.

For sure it is a surprise, but not the good kind.

“It’s a bike.” His voice drips venom, but you brush it off.

“Not just a bike, it’s a graziella! Perfect to carry people on the back!” You say, slapping the bike rear-rack.

“It’s too low, it will be uncomfortable for my legs.” He retorts but you don’t desist, smiling back at him.

“In fact, you don’t have to sit, you have to stand up on it on completely trust my skills.” The face he makes is pure comedy, it’s a mixture of scared, anger and, as always, disgust. “C’mon mister Itoshi. I swear you can trust me, not even a bug will hit your precious legs, let alone the ground.” You hear him gulp and see the gears in his brain running, you wait a few seconds but the answer finally arrives.

“Okay, but if something happens to me you’ll pay with interest.” You nod and smile back sitting on the saddle. You soon feel the bike moving under you with the added weight. You start to pedal not wanting to lose balance and make you both fall on the ground and his hands immediately find support on your shoulder, gripping tight on them.

“Let’s go!” You shout, the bike is harder to manage but you push forward. The ride is silent, the summer breeze dancing around you two, only gasps can be heard from the guy standing on the back when you take a hole making both the bike and Sae jump. His hands aren’t as tight on you anymore, probably he is trying to trust you as best as he can, it’s pleasing to think he is starting to trust you, the feeling runs to your head becoming a pink fog that makes you feel dangerously well and uncaring. You are sure you would look like a postcard if someone took a photo right now, you feel so peaceful that it’s hard to imagine you look bad right now.

Dangerous because you almost don’t notice that you arrived at the aquarium, pulling harshly on the brakes almost making your guest jump off the bike if it wasn’t for his hands harpooning your shoulders.

“Sorry-“ You say in between your teeth, wincing at your mistake. You hear him scoff but he decides to not salt in the wound.

“Put the bike there, I’ll pay for the tickets.”

“Are you sure? I can pay for my own-“ He doesn’t even listen to you, walking to the ticket office without looking back at you once.

The visit was actually really fun, for you at least, Sae never expressed any kind of emotions, the corners of his lips a line that never twitched upwards or downwards. You see teals eyes looking around, but it seems nothing catches his attention. At least he stops when you ask, not a groan of disapproval, not a happy smile either.

“I like penguins.”  You say looking at the glass separating you from the cute bird wobbly on its feet. A gasp of surprise escapes your mouth when one of them dives into the salty water to stop exactly in front of you. You pull at the end of Sae’s shirt, the excitement going straight to your head, too busy being ‘a finger apart’ than ruining your guest's clothes. You shout in happiness but the sound is drowned by the squalls of kids around you.

“I can see.” Finally, a hint of a smile appears on his face, but you are now too busy looking back at the penguins to notice it. Meanwhile, Sae is too busy looking at the features of your face, looking for once at you, not looking down on you. The blue and soft lights of the aquarium make you look like a dream, the joy in your eyes matching your smile.

Something moves inside him, it’s pleasant but it fades in a snap of a finger when you face him again, prompting him to walk towards the next glass. You talk about colorful jellyfish or something like that. It’s not that he is interested in anything there. After all, he accepted Elisa’s offer not to sound too rude even for his standard. But he thinks, that moment of happiness on your face was in part worth the deal.

Not that you’ll notice head entirely elsewhere.

“It was nice. Thanks for paying.” You are now outside, bike on hand while you walk near the seashore. The wind is stronger there, and more than once you shrink in your place, while the guy next to you is perfect, as always. A porcelain doll crafted by the most expert hands ‘too bad they didn’t lose another minute to work on his personality, tho’ you think.

“No problem. Can we stay here a minute longer?” Sae asks, but he is already still, as always it was an order, not a question. You nod, the sun is setting, painting the sea warm colors, waves are big but reduced to nothing when they arrive so near your feet. You see him breathing in, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.

“Do you like the sea, Itoshi?”

“Yes. I used to always visit the beach with my brother.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a sibling! Is he hot?” You chuckle, blossoming in full laughter after he sides eye you, annoyance mixing with the green of his eyes.

“He isn’t your type.” He clicks his tongue “You like handsome guys and he is not.” His voice is flat, as usual.

“Handsome guys? Yeah, I like them, obviously but why do you have this idea of me?”

“Simple-“ a smile, a real one, grace his features “You like me.” You gasp at his world, pushing his shoulder, but his body barely move.

“Mister Itoshi, your ego is way too big!” You puff out your cheeks, but there is no real anger in your words.

“Sae.”

“Mh?” The silence lasts very little but it feels like an eternity.

“Call me Sae.” His teal eyes link with yours. His voice is low, serious and makes your knees wobble a little. He looks happy, the sun painting beautiful shades on his fair skin. It’s honestly a breathtaking sight.

“Okay, Sae. Your ego is still too big!” You break the tension, too heavy all of a sudden. Too intense for two strangers who couldn’t even suffer each other.

Just too much.

The spell is broken and you see him wince, ‘probably he didn’t want to sound so intense’ you think telling him to go back home. The ride is silent, when midway it’s Sae who decides to talk.

“Why are people looking at us weird?”

“Maybe because you are a football superstar?”

“No, the look when people recognize me is different.”  You hum, but you come up with another motivation quick.

“Maybe because you are the one being carried! Usually is the guy that carries around the woman.” You state, no malice in your words. He is silent for a few seconds.

“Let’s switch.”

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t care about this-“

“I said stop pedaling and switch places with me.”

“Stop ordering me around! Plus if you have never done that there is no way you can keep me-“

“If you don’t switch I’ll jump off the bike, I’ll hurt myself and do you remember what you promised me this afternoon?” You feel more of his weight on your shoulders like he wants to remind you of his upper position, just figurately now “I’ll make you you pay, remember?” It’s the same voice he used on you the first time you met and it made you reflexly pull the brakes, this time slower so he could jump off without any risk.

He sits on your place and clicks his head, as a sign for you to stand on the back.

“But if you hurt me? What do I gain?” Your voice is wobbly, not trusting him at all. Your hands grip tightly on his shoulders and you are sure there will be a red sign there tomorrow.

“I’ll kiss it better. Now shut up.” He starts pedaling, not checking you once. For sure you didn’t like his answer but jumping off now sounded like a good way to sprain your ankle.

“Do you know at least the road to go home!?” He takes a hole and makes you jump, you suppose it’s the karma for how you drove before

“…okay. Talk just to tell me where to go.”

You arrived home, safe and sound. You don’t kiss the ground just because you don’t want to act overdramatic, but feeling the ground under your feet with no wounds on your legs seems a real miracle. Elisa welcomes you both with a big smile, her eyes are tired but you notice a drop of happiness in her eyes so you do not worry. The week goes by naturally. You and Sae don’t banter as often, but calling what you have a friendship would be a stretch, Elisa still tries to push you into something more, but her attempts are failures, if not disasters most of the time. Thankfully Sae doesn’t dig further, not that he cares since he is so sure you have a mind-numbingly, heart-shattering crush on him anyway.

The real surprise comes when he goes back home, everyone is back to their normal life ‘till one day receives a message from an unknown number. It’s not a text, but a picture of you two, of when you were going to the aquarium since you were the one pedaling. There are ginormous texts on the sides probably it has been published by one of those gossip magazines you tend to avoid.

“Who are you?” You text back, and an answer will not be long in coming.

“Sae. Elisa gave me your number.”  You smile thinking how happy she probably was when Sae asked for it. She was probably giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Why did you contact me? It’s a problem if we were seen together?”

“No” A dry texter, exactly what you expected.

“Then let me say; we really looked beautiful.” You write it with a heart bursting in happiness. You both looked happy, your faces radiating joy. You may not be an earth-shattering beauty but nobody would have been able to sincerely say you looked bad.

“We did.”

You are happy to know he feels the same.

5 months ago

You are at a beach party. Honestly, you would rather be somewhere else but after closing yourself for two months at home to pass your exams you need a bit of fresh air. Summer is now leaving its place to autumn, the days are still long, but at least the temperature is acceptable. Stars are shining high in the sky and everyone seems to enjoy the party. You wear a cute dress, ‘the one for good occasions’ you repeat to yourself. It’s not tight, the skirt is large enough that you can easily move around, but it hugs your waist before getting larger again on the chest area-

“Hey-“ Elisa elbows you “Sae is sitting on the couch all alone, why don’t you keep him company.” She laughs but this time it isn’t for the alcohol; she is just dumber because she could get with her crush, Leonardo. Actually, he was the one to set the party all teammates and their partners invited. You actually came thanks to Elisa's invite, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t matter seeing Sae.

Something more keen to a friendship developed between you two during these months, the messages you exchanged a clear sign. What surprised you the most was that he also was the one to start conversations, asking if you were fine, checking if everything was okay. You had no other occasion to meet in person, between matches and studies you both had your hands full, so you don’t mind actually catching up with him.

“Hey sourpuss, it has been a while!” You plop down on the couch next to him. He widens his eyes in surprise, looking like a scared kitten, before returning to the bored expression, not even greeting you.

“Not even a hello? Bad night for our Casanova?” You chuckle as he clicks his tongue knowing full well you are teasing him.

“You know I’m not interested in a romantic relationship.” He is bored out of his mind and you decide to tease him some more…maybe you drunk too much.

“Well, it seems to me you are liking that girl over there. Your eyes are glued to her-“ You can’t finish the phrase, his index finger pressing against your lips.

“I never thought you were one for physical contact.”

“Never know you liked to drink this much either.” He takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip from it. “It actually tastes good.”

“I know it, you big bully! I just wanted to cheer you up and I get treated this way.” You whine. The redhead looks at you for a minute too long, pondering what to do, when his hand decides to find the crown of your head, patting you.

“Shh baby, everything is fine.” It’s a smile full of mirth and it reminds you that he is really handsome, in case your memory fails you. You must look like a pathetic cat in front of him, all pouty and a bit stupid thanks to alcohol.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You whisper out, but for sure he could hear it, getting closer to you. This time you don’t see any mirth in his eyes, back to his usual seriousness so you decide to be direct with your feelings. “I missed you. That week living together made me really change my opinion of you.” This time you don’t whisper and you see Sae getting taken back by your words, batting his long lashes at your words. You can’t hold his gaze so you fix yourself on the fire in front of you, made to perfectly set the beach party atmosphere.

“Then we should meet more often.” You look back at him, but this time it’s Sae looking elsewhere, not at a specific person on the dancefloor, simply looking in front of him. “Taken with moderation it’s nice talking with you.” It’s his usual sarcasm and you feel melting, like he just removed a heavy weight you didn’t even know to carry.

“Okay, let’s promise!” You hold your pinky out and it makes Sae raise his eyebrow.

“I appreciate you wanting to integrate my culture, but we stop doing that after elementary sch-“

“Shhh, don’t break the magic! Just do it!” He sighs before rolling his eyes but at the end, he gives up intertwining your pinkies together.

“From now on we promise to see each other more often, like good friends!” The words roll from your mouth carelessly, even if you are serious about it. You feel Sae tightening your grip on your pinkie at the ‘good friends’ part but you don’t give it much importance.

“Are you next week?”

“Yes, I am now that exams ended! Do you have something in mind?” You ask a bit too excited.

“My manager told me to participate in a cooking video or something along those lines. He said it would be good for my image and they pay a lot, but-“

“You hate not being prepared, right?” You interrupt “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a mouth-watering recipe!” And you compliment yourself for being really smooth when your hand, linked to his just by your pinkie, perfectly slides to hold it, palm to palm but not bold enough to intertwine fingers. Sae doesn’t jerk away from your touch if anything holding your hand tighter before nodding at your words. He holds your gaze and just then you notice how close his face is to yours, how there is just a whiff separating your lips…

“It’s time for the toasts! Everyone come!!” The shout of one of Sae's teammates awakes you both from the moment separating you two as quickly as you got near to each other. You don’t talk much to each other the rest of the night and you decide not to overthink what just happened, you probably drank too much and he probably was too tired to tell you to step back. For sure beach liked to play tricks on you.

Obviously, not overthinking was easier said than done, even with a pounding headache your mind started to wander and it only got worse when Sae texted his free day, to which you replied with a thumbs up. You aren’t worried about the recipe to make him cook, you have done it countless times and your mother sent you the right ingredients not so long ago. You are worried because maybe you are harboring feelings for him and you’d hate to tell him he was right all along. You can already see his smile, going from one ear to the other; you can accept being rejected, but not being made fun of.

Thankfully Lady Luck is on your side the day you finally meet up, but in a wicked way, making the chain of your bike drop something you had never to deal with. So when you hear the bell ringing your mind goes in tilt not being able to choose if panicking for your bike or for the guy in front of your door.

“Hi Sae.” You whisper out, leaning on your door.

“You are dirty.”

“Is this some new kind of dirty talking-“ He pushes you to the side, entering the house.

“So what happened? You look like a flea that just swam in petroleum.” 

“You are always so delicate Sae.” You slump your shoulders before explaining what happened “I tried to watch a video to fix it myself but it was no use.”

“I can help, where is the bike?” You look up, hope shining in your eyes.

“Oh the garage is the first left door at the end of the corridor, but are you sure-“  Sae already walked away, the squeak of the garage door telling you he got the right door.

When you reach him he is already on his knees, fingers deftly working to put the greasy chain in its place.

 “Done.” He flips the bike as easily as you’d flip a pancake, not even a sneer of fatigue appears. “Anything else?” You are shocked by how fast he fixed it.

“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t know anything other than football?”

“Yeah, but I had a childhood too. My little brother always messed it up. Do you have anything to wash the grease off?” You nod wanting the clean yourself up too.

“Now that we are all cleaned up, let’s cook! Today I want to teach you how to make tortellini, a type of stuffed pasta, have you ever heard of it?” The red hair waves his head left and right, you see curiosity in his eyes and it makes something bubble in you. “I have already done the filling, it’s easy to make later I’ll tell you the ingredients, but now let’s focus on the dough. As you can see I did a little fountain with the flour and we will have to put the yolks and the eggs white inside, like this-“ You show it to him, his teal eyes still fixed on your movements “Now grab a fork and start to mix, not everything together, just a bit and then always more until you can start to knead with your hands.” This is the worst part, the dough is hard and you need a lot of strength to mix it to perfection. “Wanna give me a hand?” You gasp already tired. He nods, but you didn’t expect him to help in this way.

His right hand locks with yours, the other already at the bottom of the dough, and his chest is impossibly close to your back. You feel his chin on top of your shoulder, his breath hitting your neck.

It’s intimate, too intimate for your standards.

“H-Hey thanks but you don’t need to hug the chef to do it, you know?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to move your head far from his, but his body caging you doesn’t let you move far.

“Mh? Sorry I thought it could work better. Feeling how your fingers work on the dough and everything.” It sounds like a poor excuse even for your ears, but you brush it off his arms not blocking you anymore; probably he just needed affection or something like that.

You move to the side, watching him knead, but your eyes soon travel up, to his face noticing a new detail…

“You have freckles?”

“I get them when I tan, I hate them.” The corner of his plush lips turn downwards, his hands working harsher on the dough.

“Why? They make you more human.”

“What are you saying? That I’m a cyborg?” He stops, green irises gazing straight into yours.

“I’m saying that looking ‘imperfect’ makes you more beautiful Sae.” You say it as a universal truth, your voice doesn’t waver, and your eyes don’t either. This time it’s he who has to break the eye contact, you see him biting his inner cheek.

“So now?” He points at the dough.

“Now we have to roll it out. We should use a rolling pin, but it is too much of a pain so we’ll use another device-”

“No, let me do the old way. I’m not a weakling like you.” His voice drips of malice and the urge to knock his head with the rolling pin is harder than ever.

“Okay then, use it. I’m curious to see how you’ll handle it.” Sae takes it from your hand and tries to use it. The shape wouldn’t even be bad if it wasn’t so poorly distributed, some places thin others awfully thick, plus you can see he isn’t using the right muscles, making him more sore than he should be.

“You are terrible, can’t you see it all has different thickness? Move let me show you how to do it.” You push him away, no real force In your movement but he moves away, giving you the rolling pin with a provocative demeanor. “We say you have to make love with the dough, use your hips like this and you won’t have to use all your arm strength. Now do it.” You give the utensil back, Sae nods eyes filled with concentration.

Too bad he keeps making the same mistake. You click your tongue “Sae, do I have to teach you how to make love?” You snicker when he sides-eye you.

“Okay  mister icicle, let me show you again how to do that.” Your hands lay on his hips but you look at his face to understand if you crossed any boundary, but he doesn’t say anything, to say the truth he doesn’t even look at you, so you take it as consent. “Instead of using just your arm strength, help yourself with a push of the hips like this-“ You move it synched with his hands twice, before letting go of the hold you have on him. “Yeah, that’s exactly how you should do it!” You notice Sae smiling, it lasts very little but it is there and you feel really proud of his work.

Then you teach him how much filling is needed inside and how to close them up.

“I can’t do it, my fingers are too chubby, see?” The half-made tortellino’s dough tears in his hands that are, in fact, a bit too chubby to deftly close it.

“Hey, don’t trash it away! You can’t fix it but you can always have…an early taste.” You reply, winking at him.

“But won’t it be dangerous? The filling is cooked, but the pasta-“

“I swear you won’t die superstar, I’ve done it countless times and I’m as healthy as you are.” You say smacking his shoulder, but by the look, the redhair isn’t fully convinced. “C’mon try it!” You spur him like a granny urging her nephew to eat her home-cooked meal.

The shine in Sae’s eyes after the bit of food hit his tastebuds is a telltale sign that you really nailed the recipe. Not that you had any doubt to start with.

 You finish closing them up and invite him for dinner telling him that Elisa is out so she won’t mind. Sae refuses your offer, his manager needs to see him so they’ll dine together.

“Well at least bring back home a bag of these!”

“Won’t you die of starvation?”

“Don’t act stupid, I won’t give you them all, I’m not that nice!” You prepare two servings “In case you want to share a meal with a special guest.” He replies with a huff, but you don’t care, knowing well how he can be.

“See you soon Sae.”

“If that raw pasta will kill me my lawyer will bang at your door.” He replies already out and walking towards the driver he called before.

“Don’t be overdramatic, it doesn’t suit you, ice man.” He smiles back at you behind the window of his car but you can’t see him since it is tinted.

From that day you don’t hear him until the famous cooking video he told you about appear on your screen. Obviously, they made him cook something way easier, too bad he had a blindfold on and his teammate had to tell him what to do.

“I hope your teamwork works better on the football field.” You text him, a winking emoji at the end.

His answer doesn’t long in coming “Worry more about your exams.” It hurts you more than being run over by a car.

3 months before

“Sae can you pick me up?”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing that bad, but could you?”

“Send me your position, I’m coming.”

“Thanks” You sniff.

You are not used to crying, or better, you are not used anymore. Years of university thickened your skin enough to be able to deal with most wounds.

Most, not all.

You studied hard for this exam, it was one of the few ones you had to do to finally get your degree, one step closer to reaching your dream. But you failed it, and now you’ll have to wait months before being able to take it again. You didn’t meet with anybody, barely talked with Elisa, and you share a bedroom with her, skipped meals to be sure not to lose time, and repeated the paragraphs till your voice gave out.

All of this for a fist of nothing.

You cried and gasped the moment you were far enough from the classroom. Weakness isn’t accepted and pity is a sign you won’t survive long in this world; this is what you’ve been taught. You forgot how shit you could feel while crying, how lonely you are. You wanted to call your parents, they have always been good at reassuring you, but then Sae's name was the first contact to appear and you clicked without thinking twice.

Maybe harsh love is what you need.

You regret your choice the second you hear the first thrill. He must be training, maybe he is in the sweet company of someone, you can already hear his ice-cold voice snapping at you for bothering him. But you don’t have the time to close the call, Sae picked it up and was coming to help.

You recognize the car, it was the same one that picked him up when he went back home from his house, but this time he is the one driving.

“Come in.”

You sit on the soft leather. While you waited for him you tried to dry up your tears to improve your current condition, but to no avail; eyes still red and puffy and some tears still escaping.

“Are you bri-bringing me home?” You brokenly say between gasps.

“No. What happened?” Sae’s eyes stay fixed on the road, raindrops fall on the windshield, ironic how the weather matches your mood.

He snaps his fingers in front of you, bringing you back to earth so you start to tell him what happened.

“I know I must sound so-so dumb but-“ Gasps keep interrupting you “I feel like a failure. Maybe I am.” You look at him, your vision is foggy due to the new tears, but this time he looks back at you. You didn’t even notice he stopped the car, now off the road.

But what it comes to surprise you. No harsh words, no sarcasm.

Sae hugs you, hands patting your back.

“Everyone fails, even cyborg guys like me. Everything can be fixed and a little misstep on the road doesn’t define you as a person.” He pulls away, face relaxed, and goes back to driving.

“One hamburger and a chips portion.”

Were you parked in a fast-food lot? You were so out of your mind and outside is so dark that you didn’t notice. You have been silent, still recovering from the hug and those words that sounded so encouraging and not like Sae at all.

“Why the chips? You don’t like them.” It’s the first thing you are able to blabber, at least you didn’t stutter anymore.

“This isn’t for me. It’s for you.” The redhair says putting the paper bag on your legs “Junk food can be nice once in a while. And stop crying-“ the back of his curled index finger swipes away a lone tear running down your face “I hate looking at ugly stuff and tears reduce you to a really ugly mess.” 

Ah, the old Sae is back. You can finally recognize him, with all his rude comments. But something inside you blossoms while he drives you back home and you bite into your hamburger.

Does it mean he finds you beautiful every other time? You feel blood running to your face for a minute you hear a whistle in your ears, but you impose yourself not to bash your head around it. Now you have to find a nice way to explain the situation to Elisa without making her worried sick and hide who brang you home to avoid her dumb smile and endless teasing that would come your way. You look outside the car window, mind already wandering somewhere else.

In the end, Elisa discovered everything, for sure Sae insisting on bringing you inside crumbled to pieces your plan, and your mood was too devasted to be able to efficiently hide your feelings. At least your attention wasn’t on the football star anymore.

Your mind already planned to think about them for the next weeks anyway.

Today. Night

“I suppose the date didn’t go as planned.” Sae doesn’t move, no intention of shielding your body under the umbrella.

“No, but it was my fault.” ‘Because I’m in love with you’ you add in your brain. “You want to know what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Bad for you because I’ll tell you anyway.” You joke between gasps. Sae doesn’t move away but he keeps looking down on you. “He was so nice, he took me to the restaurant and even wanted to pay. The small talk was incredible and we have a lot in common-“ You look down, not able to keep his gaze “But my heart is for someone who considers me barely a friend-“ Your hands now cover your face “And then when I arrived here to cry in peace a couple walked in front of me being all cute and I crumbled.”

“It could have been us.”

“Umh?” You can finally gaze back into his eyes, liquid fury while looking down at you.

“Who is the guy you have a crush for? The loser-“

“It’s you. You are the loser.” Your brain still struggles to phantom what is happening. You were freezing cold a few minutes ago, you couldn’t feel the apex of your fingers, but now you don’t feel anything.

But something inside Sae’s mind clicked before yours, the umbrella waving left and right, the grip on it clearly loosened.

“You are an imbecile.” His words are sharp knives on your body, but you can’t grasp in pain because something is pressing on your lips.

Sae is kissing you, his cold hands gripping you by the collar of your dress to keep you close, raindrops fall down from his cheeks to yours, the umbrella is left abandoned in a bush, the wind tearing it apart.

“For how long?” He pulls you up from the bench, his right hand gripping yours while the left one is on your back.

“The exam fail.” You whisper almost in a trance “And you?”

“Let’s go home-“ He starts to run out from the park, calling for a cab to bring you both to, you suppose, your house. You notice him looking around, probably searching for a place to shield your bodies from the rain; not that you have much to protect anymore both wet from head to toe.

“It has been longer...Sae! That’s why you have always teased me.” You finally laugh shivers of cold and joy running down your back.  “Sae!” You shout stopping in your tracks. Sae turns back but doesn’t have time to snap at you, this time it’s you kissing him. Your hands go to caress his cheeks, one hand sliding a bit back to scratch the back of his neck. You probably nailed the right point, because you hear him moan into your mouth. His hands slide lower caressing your waist to your hips, but never brave enough to go to your backside.

Or better, when you feel him sliding closer…

“Mister Itoshi, come in the car!” his driver came to pick you up, using the horn two times to announce his presence.

Sae looks at him, gnashing his teeth before looking back at you, his expression getting softer again. “Let’s go” he kisses you in between your eyebrows before pulling you towards his car.

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me when you fell in love with me.” You feel the hold on your hands tightening, no need to look at his face to understand what’s going on in his head.

Maybe he’ll kiss you dumb to make you forget about that. Maybe he’ll be brave enough to propose showering together…your mind starts to daydream, maybe he won’t have the courage and you’ll have to take the reins, but one thing is sure.

You’ll both be happy.

[iliverae]

00. THE COOLEST IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

SYNOPSIS — You don't know anything about soccer, but you do know Sae Itoshi. He's pretty cool. His brother thinks so you're pretty cool too.

note: first post!!! hi guys im iliverae bel !!! omg !!! anyways i miss the itoshi siblings so much hguuhu why wont they be happy

wc ; 2.2 k

"Mama... I don't want to." With your mother's larger hand gripped tightly in your own, tinier one, you tug on her pointer finger with a chubby pout. She looks down at you, age 5, with a smile, pinching your palm lightly.

"It'll do you good to have some friends, baby. Just spend some time with him."

You look down, cheeks puffed out and feeling frustration well up in your small, childish mind. You didn't want to! You wanted to go home and play with your dolls, not spend time with a stupid, probably stinky boy.

Your other friend, who was a nice girl, told you that guys have a weird sickness that makes everything they touch stinky, so you were a little scared.

You stand in front of the door, a little over triple the size you were, behind your mother's legs and still holding tightly onto her hand. Your tiny heart races in your chest when the door suddenly swings open, and there stands another woman. She's the same giant height as your mom, with pretty teal eyes and dark hair.

The thing that catches your eyes, however, is the thing standing behind her. Around your height—maybe a little smaller, Sae was always a small kid—and holding onto a weird checkered ball tightly in his arms. He didn't look the least bit embarrassed to see you, only looking up at the conversation the adults were taking part in and pretending to listen.

"Right!" The other woman smiles and her hand falls on top of the red head of hair. "Sae really wanted somebody to play with, since little Rin is far too small to even think about holding a soccer ball, haha. It'll be nice to sit down for a while and chat instead of running around outside kicking a ball around."

"Oh no, I get that," Your mom laughs, and you step out from behind the wall of her legs and tug her shorts when she speaks again, hand atop your hair, "Our tea parties are very eventful, but maybe some sport wouldn't do too badly."

Sport? Tea parties? You wanted to have a tea party, but not with this weird boy, who was now kicking that ball up and down leisurely.

"Sae!" The call of that name—it's probably his—catches the boy's attention, and he looks up at his mom, big eyes blinking. She looks down at him fondly, "Will you take [name] outside? Be nice to her, and don't play too rough. If she doesn't want to play soccer, don't force her."

He blinks silently a little longer, before he looks down—at you—and then back to his mother and he nods. She smiles, patting his head before bending down and smooching a kiss on his forehead, "Thank you."

He scrunches his little nose up and starts wiping the place where his mother kissed with pink cheeks, face all puffed up and chubby-and you giggle.

You didn't smell anything too bad. Actually, his house smelt like lavender and jasmine. It was nice. Maybe your friend was wrong.

Your little fit of giggles catches Sae's attention, and he looks over at you—where you were moving away from your mother with a little bit of encouragement from her—you stand in front of Sae, clad in your pink stripey dress with white stockings-you smile at him, toothy and cute.

"Go on," his mother steps out of the doorway, and Sae turns around, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Follow me." He says, speaking for the first time you've ever heard. His voice sounds much different from those of your girlfriends, but it's not deep by any means. It's actually squeaky. You comply and as he rushes down the hallway with pitter-patter steps, you, in your tiny Mary Jane's, follow.

You don't even glance back at your mother as she smiles when you're rushing behind the smaller Sae Itoshi.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You follow the redhead, right up until he leads you outside (with much struggle opening the screen door—he was about to burst into tears until his mother rushed over and opened it for him), where you two stand in the warm sunlight.

You two rush past some garden beds filled with all sorts of vibrant flowers, various pots and gnomes, and even an outdoor lounge set until you're both on a large, green field. Two goalposts on either side were already set up—tiny goalposts, fit for somebody of your size.

"What's soccer?" You ask with your head tilted and tiny pigtails on either side of your head moving with you.

Sae furrows his little, red brows and his teal eyes squint angrily, "How do you not know what soccer is?! It's the best sport in the whole wide world!" With his brash tone and squished up, frustrated little face—it would've been more believable if you'd just told him he was a "poopy-head" rather than this.

"I don't play sport," You frown, shuffling your feet on the grass. "I like playing with my dolls."

"Dolls are boring," He kicks the soccer ball up and balances it on his toes. You're impressed by this show, but you can't let him see (lest his pouty expression grow coy), only turning your head and glancing subtly.

"Nuh-uh! They're so fun! I bet soccer is super boring!" You stick your tongue out at him. He huffs, catching the soccer ball and holding it under his arm. Sae seems to take heavy offence to your statement, cheeks puffed out, baby fat accentuating his cute, child-like features.

"That's not true!" His voice makes you jump a little, and he moves closer to you, looking directly into your eyes. "If you play it, you'll totally see it's not boring at all!"

"I dun' wanna." You shake your head, crossing your arms. "You said dolls were boring."

Sae frowns, looking down. He grabs his chubby hands together and fiddles with his fingers. "Fine... Dolls aren't that boring. I'll play dolls with you later if you play soccer wit' me now."

Your eyes light up and you smile wide, toothy and excited, "Okay! You have to promise to do a tea party with me!"

Sae looks embarrassed at the prospect, turning around and rushing after the soccer ball as he calls out, "Fine! But you needa play with me!"

"Okay!" You rush over to where he stands, in the middle of the field with the soccer ball on a white circle. "What do I do?!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Your little foot misses the ball completely, and you slip, falling onto your butt on the grass. You let out a shrill scream of frustration, eyes narrowing at the ball and you glare, "Soccer sucks!"

Sae glares at you from where he stands in front of the goal, on the small field, he runs over quickly to where you planted yourself on the grass, "Hey! You're just bad at it!"

You huff, folding your arms over your chest and shuffle around with your legs so you're not facing him, "No! This game is just the worst!"

"No, look." He runs over to the goal you're facing, the ball in tow in front of him, and he kicks it with the side of his shoe, and it flies into the goal. You watch with wide, starry eyes at his goal—you're sure it is the most amazing thing you have ever seen.

"Woah... cool..."

He turns around, hands on his hips proudly and chest puffed up, cheeks pink with your praise, "Cool, right?! Soccer is super cool. You're just not cool enough for it yet."

You stand up, tiny hands balled into fists in front of you while you defend yourself, "What?! I'm cool!"

"Then you should get good at soccer, cuz then, you'll be the coolest." He pokes his nose up in the air, eyes shut closed. "Like me."

Sae Itoshi is undeniably cocky and perhaps, even at the ripe age of 5, he is too egotistical for his own good. You are completely and utterly aware of this fact. Even so, when you stare at him, you can't seem to pull your little eyes away.

You look at where the sun shines from behind his head—even though he's wearing a stupid Transformers t-shirt, and his bangs are choppy and frankly, really ugly, you look at his chubby face, and you believe him.

Your eyes sparkle, and your cheeks grow pink.

That was the day you realised Sae Itoshi was the coolest in the whole entire world.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

From the safe cradle of his mother's arms, Rin wordlessly and mindlessly wakes up from his nap, eyes opening slowly. He's yawning, and the two mothers are fawning over his cuteness. It's not every day Rin gets to sit in his mother's grasp like this, because of how Sae is always stealing her away to play some sport with him, but it's not like Rin holds any contempt towards his older brother for it.

He loves his older brother—and that's why he wonders what's so different about today. Sae spends every waking moment playing this sport, soccer, and every chance he gets, he asks their parents to play with him. When his father was home, he would ask him. When he wasn't, he would ask their mom.

Their father was at work right now—so why hadn't Sae come running up to ask? This is what makes Rin start squirming in his mom's grasp and reaching his hands out in the direction of the screen door, crawling across the couch towards it when she lets him go.

"Do you wanna go outside, Rinnie?" His mother asks him sweetly, looking down at her two-year-old son. "You can play with your big brother if you ask him nicely."

Rin can talk, easily, but all he does is make a muffled "mm" sound (you know the one that babies make) before getting up off his knees and rushing outside, feet only clad in socks as he runs on the concrete.

He only stops when he's right on the edge—a step forward would plant him on green grass. He looks up and sees his older brother rushing after a girl, who he has never seen before. With frilly socks and black leather shoes, a flowy pink dress and a pretty ribbon in your hair—the way you twinkle in the sunlight—Rin thinks you must be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You slam the tip of your shoe into the ball, and it goes flying into the goal before Sae even has a chance to stop it—and you cheer. You raise your fists into the air and giggle, jumping up and down with excitement. Your hair flutters alongside you with your movements, "Sae! Sae! Look! I did it! I got the ball in! I'm so cool!"

He pouts, crossing his arms and looking away, "It wasn't that cool..." But with his tone—it's easy to sense the jealousy. Rin sees you wrap your arms around his older brother in a tight hug from the side—you only giggle when he tries to push your face back, away from his.

You both look excited... Rin wants to celebrate with you two as well. He ignores the prickle of grass under his grey socks and rushes over—tiny steps making a little pitter-patter sound until he stands in front of you and Sae. He looks up, eyes wide and sparkly, and the laughing in your mouth dies down at the sight of the little child in front of you.

Your arms are still wrapped around Sae's shoulders—you look at him and ask, "Is this your brother?"

Sae groans, obviously annoyed and he looks away, "Ugh... Rin, get off the field."

Not understanding Sae's words, he keeps blinking wordlessly up at you two. Rin tilts his head to the side and clutches the bottom of his blue hoodie. Sae keeps glaring at him, arms crossed. "Rin, go away. You can't play with us."

You remove yourself from Sae and give him a look—especially when the words start sinking into Rin and his eyes grow glassy and wobble, "Hey! Why not?!"

"Cuz he's a baby! I dun wanna play with babies," Sae huffs, turning his head away. Rin starts wailing at his words, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto the grass below. The elder Itoshi rolls his eyes and turns away, stomping towards the forgotten ball. "See, he's crying!"

"He's crying cuz you're mean!" You glare at the older brother, then look down towards Rin, who's still sobbing, but quietly now. He looks so much like your younger cousin, who you spend so much time with at family get-togethers, that you can't help but lean down and wrap your arms around him. "Dun worry... Sae's a big fat jerkface. He's a huge meanie pants."

Your voice is a low whisper, and Rin grips the back of your dress with even tinier hands. Rin sniffles and the tears slowly stop pouring down his cheeks at your comfort. His lips tremble and he looks up at you, tears clumping his long lashes together and glittering in the sun, "R... really?"

"Yeah!" You pull away, taking your comfort with you—you don't see how Rin makes a gurgled baby noise and grabby hands at you—and place your hands on your hips. "I bet you could be a really cool soccer player too! Like me! I'mma convince Sae to let you play, promise!"

You giggle, jotting your thumb towards yourself.

Rin looks up at you, big blue eyes sparkling from the sunlight that you emit, and the way your hair flutters behind you in the soft wind. His cheeks are puffed out and his hands are clutching the ends of his blue hoodie when he stares.

His eyes are sparkling, and his cheeks grow pink.

That was the day Rin Itoshi realised that you were the coolest in the whole entire world.

[artist-ellen]

Rhaena Targaryen

Since the time skip has happened, Rhaena and her twin Baela have grown into older teens/young adults (the show is very vague and inconsistent with the ages of the children characters. It's very funny to see the 24 yr old actors vs 12 year olds and being told they have all aged 6 years). The pink has deepened to a more red variation. The center-belt decoration has moved to the side (raise your hand if you remember Cersei's designs, are the connections between the series recognizable?) with plenty of pearls and teals for House Velyaron. We also have the long sleeves that Laena styled.

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[mondaymelon]

when you ask to touch their ears... ♡ (tighnari and gorou x gn!reader)

warnings! fluff ig?

(a/n) @iamdedinside come and get your tighnari ♡♡

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

tighnari ♡

he doesn't think he's heard you right the first time.

"you... want to touch my ears?" there's a look of utter confusion on its face, as he just blinks at you, wordless, with round eyes. the look of absolute shock takes you by surprise, was it really that preposterous of a proposition that he'd be acting this way...?

"well... i mean, if you'd be okay with that..." you grin sheepishly, wondering if you've crossed the line. sure, "i mean- uhm... nevermind..." you know him well, but it's also common knowledge that forest watcher tighnari doesn't like people touching him - especially his animalistic features.

but what surprises you is the embarrassed glance he gives you, face bright red, before his fluffy ears droop awkwardly before he mumbles to you, so quietly you almost can't hear it, "i'd... i'd be okay with it."

"eh????"

and that's what brought you to this situation.

you're sitting on a couch, tighnari's head resting in your lap, eyes closed as you gently rub his ears, marveling at how soft they are. they're silky smooth, and it's obvious that the male takes great care in them. the dark fur runs under your touch with ease, and you smile softly. tighnari's strangely silent, flushed face hidden in his gloved hands, but you can tell he's actually enjoying this from the way his ear's twitch at your touch and his fluffy fox tail waves back and forth against your side constantly.

"mhmm..." the sound of a contented hum escape's tighnari's mouth before he can muffle it. instantly, his ears are pressed flat against his head as he turns up to look at you, face burning red.

"hehe, you're cute, tighnari."

"...d-don't say that."

gorou ♡

he's embarrassed that you have to see this side of him.

gorou has his fair share of rumor going on about him, the most popular one being, "if you want top dog gorou's victorious luck, give his pointy ears a rub." it's caused him quite a few troubles, and since then he's just about prohibited anyone from rubbing his ears for his so-called good luck.

so when you ask him if you can touch them, he's quite startled. but his shocked expression isn't enough to mask the rosy blush that instantly creeps onto his face.

"you... want to-!? is this... about the rumor that's been going around?? i didn't think you would be roped into this too...!" gorou sighs, face flushed, as he shakes his head. "but... if you really want to..." his blush only deepens.

"i-i... i wouldn't mind. if it's you." hesitantly, he scoots closer to you before laying his head in your lap slowly. "just... be gentle, okay?"

as you take the hazel fur in your fingers, astounded by how smooth and velvety it is, gorou makes a muffled whine from where he's buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed beyond belief. "s-sorry," he mumbles quietly, not moving from where he is. "just... ignore any sounds i might make. my ears and tail are really sensitive to touch." he grumbles softly, and you can clearly tell he's embarrassed just by his voice.

but it's hard to ignore it when he's whimpering and yelps quietly whenever you even slightly brush his ears. you persist anyway, lightly petting and stroking his twitching ears that flick back and forth restlessly. still, you continue, because you can see the way his fluffy chestnut tail whips back and forth excitedly.

as you pull away your fingers, just about satisfied, gorou turns to look at you with his teal eyes, looking slightly... upset...?

"oh... are you done?"

"just about." you smile, giving the male a little headpat. he flushes at the action, pausing for a long moment.

"if y-you want to... i'd be okay with you touching my ears from now on." his face burns, he doesn't look at you, he can't, not with you watching him so diligently.

your eyes widen. "wah- really?"

"m-mhm."

masterlist ✩