#but as soon as I was leaving the sky completely cleared up

[mer-se]

Happy birthday mom ❤️

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow Azriel x Reader

a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333

synopsis: azriel takes you for granted

Warnings: angst

pt.2

He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  

Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 

The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 

They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 

He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 

He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.

Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.

They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.

 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 

She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 

When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.

The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 

Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 

Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 

It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  

The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.

It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.

“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  

He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.

He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.

He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 

Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 

He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.

It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  

They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 

He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 

*****

You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 

It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 

You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.

But he would never see that. 

Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 

He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 

You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?

You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.

You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 

But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 

Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.

*****

It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 

Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.

“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.

Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.

Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.

“There was something in my room.” 

“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.

“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 

He's usually the one doing the sneaking.

His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 

This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.

“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.

Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 

The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 

It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.

A shadow. 

“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 

The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.

Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.

Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 

His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 

“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”

There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.

With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.

When he turned them back on you stood before him.

The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.

“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.

Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.

“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 

Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  

“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 

 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 

The lights flicker again and you're gone. 

Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.

next->

[ihavethedreamies]

Ride a Tiger | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.3k

Pairing: Tiger-Hybrid!San x Deer-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Breeding Kink, Bath/Water Sex, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!San (not really, he's a tiger hybrid)

Author's Note: Just so you know, this is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny tiger cock. This is vaguely set in the Joseon Era of Korea, which is a pretty long time range. It is after the creation of hangul, so its post 1600s about. I only know a lot of this stuff from, and am copying from, historical/period dramas. I know in a lot of ways they aren't completely accurate, especially with women going around and not covering their heads/faces. This is not supposed to be accurate, by any means. Let me know if something is horribly wrong.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. Should I be packing? Yes. I did this instead.

P.S.S. If anyone has a picture of San in traditional/historical clothes, could you get it to me with a link or something, I couldn't find anything with Google Images or Pinterest. GOT ONE

"He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount." ~Chinese Proverb

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

When you had heard thunder rumbling in the distance earlier, you didn't think anything of it. You would be done before the rain came! Nope. You scrambled to gather all of the books you had laid out at your stand, getting them under the surface so they wouldn't get damaged. A giant flash of light followed closely by clap of thunder startled you, and you bleated, your long furry ears pressing back against your hair. Your short tail under your hanbok twitched, slightly rustling the fabric it laid under. Once all of the books you were selling were safe, you grabbed the sseugaechima you had and slung it over your head, stepping back toward the building you were in front of. It was some kind of accessories shop, but the roof awning was quite short and so you barely were able to hide from the downfall underneath it. People scrambled on the street to flee to rain, and the few of them that had coverings continued on their way normally. You peaked out from under your own covering, observing the sky best you could. It was clearly not going to end anytime soon; it was just that time of the year. You had no idea how you were going to get all the books back to your house. Your father didn't mind you working to copy and sell books for the local seller, but he wouldn't let you establish your own business. The seller you worked for also didn't have a store front himself and so the two of you would sell at stalls in the market.

You decided to wait just a bit longer, wondering if the shop owner of the building behind you would let you store the books for a bit. The street had more or less cleared out, but you watched a nobleman come closer. His clothes were nice, even nicer than yours, so his status was probably much higher. The gat he wore was adorned with a silk strap and the beading was clearly finely made as well. As you looked over him, the belt tying his jeogori accentuated his narrow waist and wide shoulders. Your eyes travelled up to his face and he was stunning. But also…he had tiger ears. As he got closer, you caught a glimpse of his long tail. Definitely a tiger. It was incredibly likely that the guy was not just nobility, he was possibly one of the princes. There were like eight of them so that wasn't too unlikely. Despite the downfall, he was simply strolling down the street, almost like there wasn't any rain. Since you were one of the few people still outside, he stopped in front of your seemingly empty stall. He lifted his head and his eyes met yours and you felt them widen. Instinct flared to life, your deer-like genes screaming at the sight of the predatory gaze. It wasn't that he was trying to scare or threaten you, he just simply was a predator hybrid, and you a prey.

"Have you nowhere to go to escape the rain?" He was definitely of high status, with not just tone but the exact words he used. You nodded dumbly, back pressing to the stone foundation of the building behind you. The sseugaechima over your head covered your deer-like ears and your tail was completely hidden by your hanbok.

"I-I have books to sell, and I don't want them to get wet." You pointed under the stall, and at the crate that held your wares. He made an 'ah' of acknowledgement. You wondered why he felt the need to stop at an empty stall.

"You might have to wait a while for the rain to stop." He looked up at the sky. You sighed, knowing he was right.

"Do you want me to help?" He offered and you flinched. Really?

"If you wish, my lord." You bowed a bit and he huffed.

"Shh. Pretend I'm not that important." His smile was much softer than you expected from a tiger. You nodded, not able to speak and he came around and you dragged the crate out, ready to use the sseugaechima to cover it.

"Use this." He corrected, taking the cloth that you had laid out on the wooden stall, and you wondered how frazzled you were that you forgot about it. He tucked the edges of the fabric over the books and easily lifted the crate. You moved around him so you could start to lead him home and you felt tense the whole time. Negating that he was a tiger and you a deer, he was clearly a nobleman, and he was doing physical work…Then again you were technically a noble yourself, and a female at that. Finally getting to the entrance for your family's estate, the door was open already and you waved for one of your father's guards to come and help. The guard took the crate from the tiger, bowing deep in respect and then dashing off to put your wares in your quarters.

"Thank you, my lord." You bowed again, sseugaechima still covering your head.

"San." he added, and your brow furrowed trying to wonder why he was talking about a mountain. Then it hit you, it was his name, he was one of the princes!

"Oh, yes, your highness. (Y/N)." You introduced yourself as well, staying bowed and making sure not to look at his face.

"Get inside and out of the rain Lady (Y/N)." He smiled and your eyes flitted to his gorgeous face. You bowed deeper and then dashed further into the courtyard and booked it to your quarters.

 ~*~*~

Looking up at the clear blue sky, you squinted at the tiny white cloud you could see. It had rained for nearly four days straight and therefore you couldn't set up your stall for that long. You didn't really have need for money since your father was…well, rich, but he didn't just give you pocket money to buy stuff for yourself. It was because you wanted books that weren't normally what noble women would read, you know, like things you could learn from. You had read more than your fair share of romances and adventures from copying them. After you had set out the final pile of books, you looked at your hand and rubbed your finger over the callus you got from holding the brush. Yes, it was painstaking, but you were extremely glad that you could use hangul, it would take ten times longer if you had to use hanja. Right as you got done setting up, two women strolled up and you continued your day.

About an hour before you would get ready to go home, you noted that you had done well for the day and had only about six books left, each a different one. Since it had slowed, you were sitting on a stool, people watching the few that were wandering around. It was nearing the evening mealtime, and you could smell the food from the restaurant down the road on the corner. Your stomach rumbled and you sighed deeply, ears drooping. You started to zone out a bit, watching some birds on the ground, not looking up when someone stopped.

"What is this one like?" the man asked, and you finally looked up so you could see which book he was pointing to.

"Hm, something about a servant seducing a nobleman's son…" You sniffed and looked up at the guy and startled. It was that prince from before. Even if you hadn't carved his face into your memory, it was a bit obvious from his tiger ears right under the brim of his gat. You immediately stood and bowed, and he looked around quickly.

"It's fine, I'm trying to lay low." He waved you off and your eyes caught sight of the black claw-like nails on the end of each finger. You risked glancing up at his face and he was smiling, dimples indenting his cheeks, your eyes focused on his large canine teeth. You felt your tail flick a few times, your skirt ruffling a bit. You felt his eyes moving over your face and your ear flicked at well, nervous under the gaze of his golden colored eyes. You froze when his arm moved, hand coming up and your eyes followed the movement till you couldn't see, and you felt a little tug on your earring.

"These aren't real." He made note of it, and you cringed. You had wanted real jade earrings, but you didn't have enough money, and so you had to settle with those instead. Your father might have bought those for you, but you really wanted them right then and there. You weren't even sure what they were actually made of.

"N-no." You bowed your head and he let them go.

"When do you leave?" His question startled you and your ear flicked again.

"In about an hour."

"Don't leave till I get back." He told you and he headed off further down the market road, back the way he came. You blinked after him, eyes wide, wondering what the heck that was all about.

You did as he asked though and waited for him to return. Glancing up at the sky, you had another ten minutes or so and he still wasn't back. If you didn't know he was one of the princes, you would have left, but he told you to stay. You still hadn't sold the rest of your books despite a few people stopping by, and so you started to put them in the crate. Looking down into the mostly empty container, you looked to the side and saw him coming. Even at a distance you could see his smile when he noticed you were still there, and he jogged to meet you sooner.

"You stayed."

"Well, you said to." You shrugged, not looking at his face. Part of it was because of his status, but it was also because he was so handsome. Too handsome, actually. You wondered if all the princes were so. You watched as he pulled something out from the interior pocket of his jeogori, a small but detailed wooden box coming out. He held it out to you, and you hesitated to grab it.

"Go ahead." He waved his arm a bit and you gently took it, lifting the hinged lid. You gasped, looking at the earrings inside. They looked nearly identical to yours, but they were obviously real jade.

"W-what?" You had to look at his face then, see what his expression was for some sort of explanation. His cheeks were a tiny bit red, and his own ear flicked some and you could see his long striped-tail swaying behind him.

"Your Lord Bak's daughter, from the Saseum Clan?"

"Y-yes?" He smiled a bit bashfully, looking down as he swung his leg around, drawing a circle with his foot.

"Could you take me to talk to him?" You nodded jerkily, a little shocked at the request. Before you could grab the crate, he took it, and you balled up the cloth from the stall and shoved it on top of the books. You walked next to him as you headed toward your home, feeling a bit weird, like you should be following him. You had never directly interacted with a prince, but you still knew the basic rules. Don't look at his face, walk behind him, don't be physically higher than him, speak formally… Yes, he was trying to lay low, but that didn't change who he was. You wondered who was genuinely ignorant enough to not know who he was since he was so obviously a tiger hybrid. When you showed up to the house with the same man carrying your book crate as the time before, your father's guard was a little skeptical. He still took the crate from the prince- San, his name was San, you remembered.

"Could you please get Lord Bak?" He asked and the guard's gaze flicked to you, and you gave a short nod. As he went to do so, you stood with the prince awkwardly, swaying just a bit so your skirt twirled a bit around you. Your ears were twitching so much that your old, fake earring jingled. Your arm twisted around your back so your hand could tug on the end of your braid, a nervous habit.

"(Y/N)? Who is this?" Your father came around the corner, strolling down the stone-paved path toward both of you. He glanced at San, and you cringed slightly at how much smaller your father was than him. His jeongjagwan was modified to fit around his antlers, only that put him at the same height as the prince.

"I am Prince San, Lord Bak. I have come to ask permission to court your daughter for marriage." You balked at this, turning to gape at him directly. Your head turned back to your father whose gaze had sharpened. You knew that there was a lot of noblemen that had brought their sons as potential suitors, and your parents had turned down every single one. Would San be different? You were lucky that your parents did take into consideration your opinion on most things.

"You are the fifth eldest, no?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents aware of your request?"

"Not yet, though I have been given more freedom since I am far down in the line of succession." It seemed the men were having another conversation through their eyes.

"Is that why you would be allowed to marry a prey hybrid?" The prince faltered for a reply, it seemed he hadn't even taken that part into consideration.

"I will need to request an audience with his highness." Your father answered and San seemed to deflate.

"What do you think of this?" Your father turned to look at you and you cast a nervous glance at the tiger next to you. You knew that you would have very little say in reality, and you wished you lived about a thousand years earlier. You know, before Confucianism ruined feminism. Though, the prince seemed to be very sweet, and he was extremely attractive. It could be way worse.

"If my lord finds it auspicious." You bowed your head a bit and your father hummed.

"Why don't you go back inside, (Y/N)?" The request was more of a command than a suggestion and you scurried off to do so. As you entered, your mother came down the hall and you met her.

"Geez, mother…" You led her to spin around, and she did, though with a confused look. Adjusting her binyeo so it was setting in her bun evenly, then she turned back to face you.

"Were you speaking with someone?" She peaked around you so she could look out the window, but she couldn't see.

"A suitor…" You told her and her long, furry ears perked up.

"I shall see then," she nudged past you and went to go out and you huffed a sigh, heading back to your room.

"(Y/N), your father requests your presence in the courtyard." A handmaiden came to summon you and you got up from your floor desk to follow her out. Your father was not alone, Prince San standing with him. It was only three days prior that your father had an audience with the king, and since the prince was there…

"Yes, father?" You came out and stopped before them, bowing at the waist some.

"It seems that it was auspicious…" Your father tossed a glance at the prince, and you looked up at both of them. Your gaze went to the tiger's handsome face, and he was beaming.

~*~*~

The next few weeks were a blur and before you knew it you had gone through the marriage ceremony, and you were moved into his own little palace that belonged to the greater palace grounds. Since he was one of the younger princes you shared a palace, whereas the queen and the crown princess had their own places. There was a place as well for any consorts that the royals might have as well, but it seemed San requested you to live with him. Honestly, you would think it quite impersonal for a husband and wife not to share a room and bed each night, but that seemed to be the norm for royalty. When you learned that even princes sometimes had consorts, you got a little insecure. What if you weren't enough?

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" San's voice caught your attention and you turned to him as he entered. You had been standing in the middle of the room, just looking over everything, the room fairly barren compared to the overall size.

“I was just…” You stopped, trying to think of how to word it. He hummed for you to continue.

“I was just trying to soak in everything I’ve been told to learn.” You lied, not ready to bring the subject up quite yet. Your head was pounding from all the new information you had been pumped full with and you were nervous about messing up. Luckily since you were a noble already, you knew most of the rules and practices, but you were going to be under a bit harsher scrutiny. Not a bit, a lot. Your head felt strange, having your long braid looped up into a chignon braid, the jade binyeo holding it up making it feel heavier. The cheopji sitting on the middle of the top of your head was heavy as well, since it was gold. Your hanbok was of much higher quality and you felt nervous about getting it messy or torn somehow.

"(Y/N)?" He called your name again and you snapped out of your tumbling thoughts.

"Why did your eldest brother step down as heir?" You finally remembered the question you had wanted to ask him, before your insecurities started to spiral. You had heard some of the other women talking about it but didn't want to rely on gossip.

"Hm. The woman he fell in love with was too low in status. He abdicated so he could marry her. That's why Hongjoong is the crown prince."

"I see. The eldest is Seonghwa, yes?" San hummed and you sighed, racking your brain for all the names you had learned. There were too many. Finally, you looked over San…your husband. Just the thought made you a bit giddy. Even though it hadn't been very long since you two met, maybe about two months, you had endeared to each other. He was so sweet, contrasted greatly with the normal thoughts of how tigers were. Then again, he was a hybrid, not a full tiger. He was in a much different ensemble than what you met him in, more princely clothes. He didn't have any kind of headwear on then, just his manggeon and you could see the streak of orange and white in his hair to the right of the center of his head.

"Are you nervous?" he asked and your ears flicked. Not really sure what he was talking about, you just nodded. You were, but you weren't for sure in what way he meant. He stepped forward and his hands found your waist, your own landing on his chest. San pulled you closer and your ears pressed back against your head. Your nervous habit of tugging on your braid was going to have to be replaced since it was no longer hanging down your back. You let out a noise similar to a bleat when he hauled you even closer, his nose nuzzling against your ear.

"We get to make it official." he whispered and what he was getting at finally hit you. The consummation of the marriage. You were nervous, and a bit worried as well. You were told that predators had a much more aggressive…mating process. Plus, apparently, tiger hybrids were much like real tigers, and had 'barbs' on their… You were in your own thoughts; you could say whatever; they had barbs on their cocks. Plus, you were a good 30 centimeters shorter than your husband and he was just big overall. Your hands on his chest fisted, digging your fingers into the fabric and you squeaked when the claws on his hands dug into your own clothes enough you felt them against your hips. You shuddered as his slightly rough tongue ran up the side of your throat. Your heart rate spiked, nearly taking your breath away, some primal part inside of you freaking out.

"Your high-"

"It's just us, call me San."

"San, I-"

"Your highness!" A eunuch called from the other side of the door, and you pulled back. He reluctantly let you remove yourself from him and you turned away from the door as he turned toward it. He allowed the servant in, and you were informed that the bathing chambers were ready. After the eunuch stepped out and the handmaidens were waiting outside patiently, San went back to you.

"Why don't we be efficient and take a bath together?" He had wrapped his arms around you from behind and you were sure he felt your tail wag nervously even through the layers of fabric you both had on.

"C-can we?"

"Hm. I don't see why not. Not exactly traditional, but…I can get away with a lot." He chuckled and you felt it rumble through his chest pressed to your back. When he finally pulled back, you turned to him, face warm and he grinned.

"So cute." He nuzzled your ear again and then came back, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was your first kiss as a married couple, not that you hadn't stolen a few leading up to that point. This one was different though and he nearly growled as he deepened the kiss. You squeaked, it was like he was trying to eat you and the obvious comparison was not lost on you. His tongue was rough against yours when it wiggled into your mouth and your head swam when his large canines clacked against your much smaller ones. When his lips let yours go, a trail of saliva connected your mouths and you let out a shaky breath.

"Go with the handmaidens and get ready, I'll join after." San pressed another kiss to your cheek and allowed you to leave his embrace. You stopped in front of the door, looking back at him again as the servant on the other side opened the door. He smiled warmly and you bit your lip giddily and then followed the maids to the bathing chamber. They carefully removed your garments and took your hair down, so it was still just in a braid, you didn't need to wash it yet. You were left in a simple white sokchima, not ready to be fully disrobed since San was still to come in. You heard his own servants getting him ready in the adjoining room and as soon as your maids left, the side door opened. He stepped in, closing it behind him and you gasped, eyes widening. Speaking of wide…his shoulders were so broad, especially compared to his waist. It was fairly obvious even when he was clothed, but right then he only had a pair of white sokbaji. His torso was toned as well and your mouth, still hanging open, started to water. Well, not really, but you were close. Feeling very small and delicate under his intense gaze, it softened when he noticed your shoulders were tense.

"Come here." San cooed, coming to meet you halfway and you let him hug you again, not able to help yourself placing your hands on his bare chest. His skin was smooth, and his muscles were hard and your thighs clenched as you practically stroked him. He chuckled and your eyes flitted up to his, ears flopping they were twitching so hard. His tail was sticking out the back of his pants, swaying slightly, his ears drooping just a bit.

"Can I take this off, (Y/N)?" The prince's voice was quiet but deep in your ear and his hands gripped the back of your sokchima.

"Y-yes." You did feel the amount of clothes was fairly unequal, but your final garment being removed would leave you completely bare. Shivering a tad as he pulled the tie open, the straps of the undergarment fell from your shoulders, then the rest of the fabric onto the floor. Your arms went to cover yourself, but his hands stopped you. Your face was hot, almost on fire and you could meet his gaze, ears no longer twitching but pressed back hard against your head. Your short tail was waving back and forth quickly, no longer impeded by any fabric over it.

"You're beautiful." San told you as he made sure you wouldn't cover yourself and he stepped back a tad, fingers going to the tie of his sokbaji. Your tongue ran nervously over your bottom lip, eyes immediately zooming in on his hands. He noticed your gaze's direction and he huffed a laugh but continued with his task. Your arm wrapped around your back, tugging on the end of your braid, now free of the pin holding it up that showed your wedded status. It was like time slowed down as he lifted the waistband up and over his half-hard cock and the fabric pooled on the floor as well and your eyes widened almost comically. You had never seem a man naked in person, only having seen what were basically medical diagrams in books. All you knew was that they probably weren't all that big, and he wasn't even fully hard. The little spines at the base and head of his cock were not quite like you imagined, unlike the barbed end of a fishhook you imagined. Your cunt clenched hard, and you swallowed hard as he stepped closer.

"Here." He grabbed your hand with his and brought it toward him. You both gasped when your small, warm hand wrapped around his cock, and you bit your lip as you pumped up with your fingers wrapped around him. You wondered if it would hurt with how thick he was, your fingers not even meeting, and you pondered what the flesh would feel like on your tongue.

"(Y/N)?" His amused voice pulled you from your thoughts and your head had to tip back to look him in the eye with how close you were. A drop splatted onto the floor, and you realized what it was when your slick thighs rubbed against each other. A rumble rose in San's chest and his nose nuzzled over your ear again, then down your throat and he inhaled deeply. The rumble picked up and his warm spiced scent grew stronger, and you felt his cock harden fully in your grip.

"Let's get in." You whined a bit in disappointment when he pulled back, but he took your hand and led you down the little steps into the water. It was nice and hot, but not too much so, flower petals floating in the water and carrying with them their sweet aroma. He sat on the bench that sat inside the large wooden tub and he hauled you into his lap, legs straddling his lap. You watched the wavy image of his tail through the water, your tail not able to wag as hard with the water resistance. As you rested on his lap, his hard cock pressed to your tummy and you pressed into it more, making him groan.

"You need to stop doing that if we're going to wait." His tone was a bit harder, his brow furrowing after your next press closer to him.

"Wait for what?" You gave him a coy look. You knew it would be "proper" to wait till you were actually in a bed to…bed each other, but…

"(Y/N), love, don't you want your first time to be-" He grunted when you leaned in, your breasts pressing into his chest, and he had to close his eyes to think.

"San, I don't care if you take me here, now, or in that bed. What matters is it's you." You rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling his neck, your head feeling foggy as you breathed in his scent. You heard the water sloshing before you felt anything, but his strong arms had wrapped around you, lifting you up a bit. His lips crashed to yours as he maneuvered you, only pulling away so he could flip you around. Your back pressed to his chest and he had you rest your knees over his so he could hold your legs open. Even with the water of the bath, your slick was still stuck to your folds, and he groaned as he ran two fingers over you. Your whole body jerked, thighs twitching at the little bit of friction, already sensitive. San's arm held you to him as his index finger breached your entrance, your slick easily letting him in. You had noticed earlier that he had filed his claw-like nails down to blunt them, and now you knew why. You had expected a bit of a sting at his finger's entrance, but you only felt pleasure. You had…tested on yourself before, but his fingers were longer and thicker, and your head fell back over his shoulder as a second joined the first. He grinned, watching your cunt swallow his fingers, his tail sliding through the water to wrap over your thigh, holding it to his. San ground the palm of his hand against your clit and your gummy walls clenched around the digits inside and he heard you whine right into his ear. Under normal circumstances, your flitting ears and tail would tickle, but he could use them to tell just how you were reacting.

"S-San!" You gasped, the pleasure he was bringing over you rising fast and your blunt nails dug lightly into his arm where you gripped it.

"Good girl, (Y/N). Fall apart for me." His prompting words led you to your climax and he rumbled as your cunt clenched and pulsed as your orgasm hit. When the little twitches finally died, your body slumped into his, he removed his fingers and helped move you once more. You faced him again and your nails dug harder into his shoulders as he held you over him, the head of his cock rubbing through your folds.

"Ready, princess?" He smirked a bit at the pet-name, though it was completely and officially accurate now.

"Please." You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth and down his neck. San grunted and your grip on him tightened as he pressed you down, fat cock finally breaching your entrance. It stung, burned in the best way though, the rubbery spines of his cock flicking against your clit as he finally got the head all the way in. The rest of his dick followed a bit easier, but each little increment deeper, the spines rubbed against the ridges of your cunt. He was only halfway in when you threw your head back, breath harsh, chest heaving at the sensation of him splitting you open. Your cunt spasmed and pulsed, you were already close, heat pooling and growing in your groin and lower stomach. Your flowery scent filled the air even more than the petals in the water, the pleasure and pheromones your husband were letting off spurring you into a semi-heat. Immediately, your cunt slicked even further, the thick wet not able to be washed away by the water. As he started to bottom out, the spines at the base of his cock flicked over your clit and against the folds of your pussy and you shuddered hard as your groin met his. San barely shifted and that was all it took, your second orgasm hitting quicker and harder than the first. His growl rumbled through his chest, you and the room as your cunt clenched hard around him.

"Fuck-" You swore softly and hearing the vulgar word leave your soft, sweet lips made him groan.

"Are you okay, love?"

"J-just give me a second." You were still shuddering in his arms, tiny waves still pulsing through your cunt.

"I can't last much longer." He warned and you shifted once yourself, pressing your knees harder into the bench of the bath and you nodded jerkily. You were prepared…well, you thought you were. San's arms around you tightened, almost to hold you in place, and he lifted you off his cock some, the pumped up his hips, fucking back into you deep. Your head flew back so hard he was a bit concerned, but he continued his thrusts, not even pulling out halfway before filling you once more. The water sloshed around you, your tail wagging hard through the water, his own wrapped around your right thigh.

"Shit-" He grunted, pressing you to him and standing. You yelped at his movement but then he lightly rested you against the rounded edge of the wooden tub. He reached past your head for a towel and balled it under your head.

"San?" You didn't get an answer to your prompting tone, and your breath hitched as he hauled your legs up to wrap around his narrow waist. One hand rested against your thigh to hold your leg up, the other taking your hand from his shoulder and lifting it up above your head. His fingers linked with yours, holding your hand tightly as his lips hovered over yours.

"Hold on, princess." He more or less warned, and your other hand flew to the narrow wooden column near you, barely getting a hold on it before he snapped his hips, relentlessly barreling his cock into you, head battering your back walls. You let out a choking sound, followed by unintelligible whimpers and babbles, your next orgasm rising already. With each thrust, he ground his hips down, the spines at the base of his cock teasing your clit and he didn't even slow down as your third orgasm crashed over you. If anything, it made him go harder, the water around his legs sloshing hard. He was full on growling at that point, tongue running over his long canines, a drop of saliva falling past his lips and into your mouth, gaping open, drool dripping from the side. Your eyes rolled back as his pace seemed to pick up, the thrusts somewhat shallower but even harder.

"Fucking hell, love, you're taking me so well." San rumbled, watching his fat cock split you open, the shine of your slick and cum on his cock made his head swim.

"Want me to cum inside? Fuck my cub into you?" He laughed cockily; eyes fixed on the joining of your bodies. You both weren't even sure how easy it would be for you to conceive, and he honestly didn't care if you couldn't. He was so far down the line of succession himself, let alone his kids. Though, if it was harder, that just meant he could try all the harder.

"Please! San, want your cum!" You whimpered, neither of you caring anymore if the servants heard the filth spilling from your mouths.

"Gonna make you my mate too, my wife…" He growled and his thrusts grew unsteady, his nose nuzzled your neck again and your breath hitched as the sharp ends of his canines met your skin. Your blunt nails dug into the wood of the column, hand gripping his hard as he finally fell over the edge himself. His teeth sank in as he came, white, hot spurts of cum coating your walls and filling your womb. Your orgasm helped him ride out his, core gripping him hard, eagerly drinking in his seed. You felt like you almost blacked out, brain clearing some as he stopped, licking over the bite wound in your shoulder. He pulled back enough to look down at your worn-out body, face red and splotchy but still so cute, so pretty. And you were all his.

The next few minutes passed with a blur; all of the servants being called to leave the hallway leading from the bath to your bedchambers. You only realized you had changed location when the still-wet skin of your back hit the silk sheets, and San was filling you back up. You had nothing to hold onto, so you white knuckled the sheet of the futon under you. Your legs were thrown over San’s wide shoulders, ankles by his ears, and animalistic noises were leaving him. He was salivating like a hungry…well, tiger, growls turning into near roars. You weren’t sure how many more orgasms he fucked out of you before he filled your womb with even more of his seed. Your mind was nearly gone, only little squeaks leaving you as you flipped you over, hips raised in the air, chest pressed to the bed below. His giant cock, with all those blasted spines, carved into you, and your cunt clenched hard, molding to him. You were both a mess already, the bath having been nearly negated. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your bare back, a thick mix of your releases coating both your thighs and forming a puddle below. A dark stain from the tears caused by the overwhelming sensations and drool formed below your cheek. Even with his claws blunted, they tore into the bedding some as he leaned over you, hips pumping hard, the slap of skin muffled by his grunts.

“One more for me, princess. Gonna get you pregnant, keep you stuffed full till you do.” He chuckled, pace stuttering, and your vision spotted as he came once more, squirts and sprays of your own release soaking his groin further. Soon, all that could be heard was both of your panting breaths and you were having trouble staying awake, all strength leaving your body. That was when something terrifying hit you…he was still hard.

hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over the heads. gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. hangul - the Korean alphabet we use today. hanja - the old Korean characters derived from Chinese used prior to Hangul's creation. jeongjagwan - a type of gat that noblemen would wear, it looks much like a pagoda. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. cheopji - a hair accessory worn by women, looks similar to a headband with a clip or pin in the middle. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually...

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[djarincore]

Down by the River

summary: Gale accidentally finds you bathing in the river.

pairings: Gale x reader

word count: 1k

tags: suggestive themes, nudity, fluff

a/n: am I a weirdo for loving the trope where someone finds a beautiful maiden bathing in a river and is entranced by the rivulets of water tracing down the curve of her spine??? I dunno....

Wyll's version

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All Gale wanted was a refreshing bath. Gods, he missed his warm baths in his tower back in Waterdeep where he would have a good book in one hand and another cradling a fine glass of wine. 

Alas, such luxuries could not be afforded on the road with mind flayer parasites burrowed in his skull. 

When he found the slow, winding river, he halted upon hearing a low melodic hum. He would have thought it were harpies again with their hypnotic melody if not for his own eyes. 

There—back turned to him, just toeing the edge of the river, completely bare—was you.

The full moon washed your body in a soft, ethereal light, reminding him of the intimate magic lesson you shared. The way the Weave shrouded you in a soft glow. He recalled how bright your eyes looked as magic danced around you for the first time. The soft caress of hands as they met and lingered at your sides. How you imagined kissing him before the magic fell away all too soon. 

Your toes grazed the crystal shore, rippling the gentle current, to test the water's temperature—cold, from the way your body tensed and a soft gasp disrupted your soothing hum. 

Gale could not move—could not breathe—as heat swam through his body and rose to his cheeks. Your hums continued as you slipped into the water slowly, completely unaware of his presence so far. 

It was wrong of him to be here, watching you in a quiet moment of peace and completely vulnerable. He would not break your trust, not when he already found himself holding you so close to his heart. 

Unfortunately for Gale, his departure was not as silent as his arrival. A cursed stick snapped beneath his feet when he backed away. 

The noise alerted you, who snapped around and attempted to cover yourself with your hands. Your arms pressed tightly against your breast and your legs were positioned sideways to cover your lower half. 

“Who's there?!” You demanded, voice quivering. Your eyes scanned the forest to find a figure attempting to slip into the bushes. But, you recognized those purple robes. “Gale?”

“My apologies,” he called back, sheepishly, raising his hands in surrender. The blush on his cheeks grew hotter now that he was caught. This was dangerous territory for a man who had a sensitive bomb in his chest. “I-I promise you, I didn't mean to find you here.”

Your gaze fell away to the water at your feet. “You came to bathe?”

“Yes! Though I'm sure I can find a suitable spot elsewhere. It's a long river, after all. Though I’m certain I won't find any more beautiful nymphs there,” he rambled. He didn't know how to stop.

Your eyes were wide when you looked at him again, a shy smile pulling at the edge of your lips. 

He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the sky. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

He turned, prepared to leave and berate himself for making a fool of himself, but stopped when he heard you call after him.

“Wait, Gale! Y-You don't need to leave.” You sounded as nervous as he felt. “Stay.” 

How could he ever ignore one of your requests?

Shedding his clothes seemed like a blur and suddenly he was just as bare as you, standing at the edge of the river. 

You had turned away as he stripped and sunk deeper into the river, chest deep now, busying yourself with washing up. Your hand ran along your opposite arm and up your shoulder. 

Gale watched, mesmerized by the curves that your hand danced along. You were beautiful, enchantingly so—a true goddess to behold. 

He slipped into the chilling waters, a safe distance away from you. He hoped you weren't uncomfortable. You hadn't looked at him since you asked him to stay. The two of you bathed in silence, backs turned to one another. 

After a while, you said, “I never thanked you for that magic lesson. It was wonderful.”

Pride burned through his body as he smiled. “You had an excellent teacher, after all. But, you were a wonderful student too.”

He dared to turn his head, just to look at you from the corner of his eyes. You were already facing him. There was always kindness and compassion in your eyes that never failed to draw him closer to you. The way you looked at him—he felt seen. It was almost too much sometimes.  

His eyes followed the slow rivulets of water that slid down your neck and further down your chest. 

“I was… glad to share a moment of magic with you,” he confessed when his eyes returned to yours.  

“I hope that lesson wasn't the last.”

“Of course not! I’d be more than happy to show you more illusory magic. We can start with a simple spell I learned when I was young. Tara taught it to me in fact.” 

Gale failed to notice you inching closer as he went on about what he would show you next—he was getting lost in his own words. He only slowed to a stop when your hand lightly brushed against his underwater. His fingers tensed before relaxing and allowing your fingers to drift along his knuckles. 

You uttered his name softly and he couldn’t help the hitch in his throat. “I hope we get more than just a moment.”  

Before he could respond, you leaned forward and kissed him. Your lips pressed against his, slow and careful, but it was over before there was time to properly savor the feeling. You pulled back, your hand still resting on his. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly. “I should have asked before doing that. Are you okay?”

Gale nodded, feeling all sense slowly coming back. For the first time in more than a year, he felt wanted. “More than okay.”

There was a hunger growing in his chest, he realized, but it didn't yearn for magic.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: im not entirely happy w this but i might revisit it one day :)

[bloddysnow]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Synopsis: You are summoned by Sylus in the middle of the night, a familiar occurrence whenever Sylus is drunk. Your encounter is filled with raw passion, where Sylus seeks solace in desperate sex as a way to cope with his inner turmoil.

warnings: nsfw minors dni. Sub! Sylus, soft dom! reader. reader is gn. (cock or strap), possessive behaviour, smoking, alcohol, anal sex. mention of masochism.

It’s three in the morning. The sky is dark, with stars peeking through the occasional cloud. The moon hides behind them, only occasionally slipping out to dimly light the street with its pale glow. You step out of the car, closing the door. The street is empty, everyone around is asleep, and only the sound of your footsteps can be heard.

You walk toward his house. The streetlight nearby casts a dim glow on the pavement, creating long shadows from the trees and bushes. A slight breeze rustles the branches.

You were asleep when the sharp ring of the phone jolted you from sweet slumber. You were ready to curse whoever woke you at such an hour until you saw who was calling.

You picked up the phone and brought it to your ear, still somewhere between sleep and reality. The voice on the other end was raspy, broken, with clear signs of drunkenness. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper:

"Could you come, please?"

As you get closer to the door, you notice that no lights are on. The house stands dark and still, almost abandoned. Pressing the doorbell, you wait, listening to faint sounds coming from inside. The door slowly opened.

Sylus appeared in front of you. He looks completely exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes suggest he hasn’t slept for several nights. He’s wearing a dark robe. His hair was wet, droplets of water clinging to the tips, as if he just got out of the shower.

He just stares at you for a moment, saying nothing, then steps aside, inviting you in without a word, leaving the questions for later.

As soon as the door quietly closes behind you, you feel Sylus suddenly pull you toward him. His lips find yours in a sudden, desperate kiss. He kisses you roughly, pushing you against the wall. His hands grip your clothes tightly, as if afraid you might slip away.

Your teeth clash against each other, and his tongue insistently invades your mouth, greedily sucking on your tongue, leaving you no room to breathe. You can taste the alcohol, and with every second, it becomes more and more apparent. This only makes the kiss wilder. His arms wrap tightly around your neck, pulling you even closer so that there’s no space between you.

Sylus suddenly pulled back, as if trying to control his emotions. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breathing becoming slightly more measured but still hot and heavy. You feel him take a deep breath of your scent. His voice is soft as he whispered directly into your ear:

“[name]… I need you as hell.”

This wasn’t the first time he drunk called you. Every time he was under stress, his only way to cope was to drink and then—call you. You knew this routine by heart: the late-night call, the raspy voice, and the plea to come. You knew that behind this was a deep emotional pain he could never express with words.

It was as if he was trying to drown something inside himself, and in sex with you, he sought comfort, or perhaps salvation. There were moments when, in the heat of passion, you noticed how his body trembled, and tears streamed down his cheeks while he held onto you.

Every time, it left you with mixed feelings. You kept coming because you understood that in those moments, he needed you the most, even though it was hard for you.

Each time you move faster, the leather couch squeaks, making rhythmic sounds.

At some point, you glance down and see Sylus’s body starting to convulse. His legs are tightly wrapped around your torso, knees tucked in, heels pressed against your back. His muscles tense up, and he throws his head back. You see him cum, his sperm spilling onto his own stomach. His face contorts in pleasure, eyes squinted, hands tremble as he clings to you, getting out his orgasm.

With each final deep thrust, you push into him even further until you feel a hot wave of pleasure wash over you, and you also reach your peak. Sylus, still immersed in his own sensations, let out a drawn-out moan as he feels your hot liquid inside him.

Finally, his body relaxed, hands slowly slipping off of you, and grip loosens. You could feel the tension leaving him, and as you get up, you sit beside him. Reaching for a pack of cigarettes, you took one, placing it between your lips, and with a flick of the lighter brought the flame to the edge. The first deep inhaled fills your lungs with smoke.

You heard the leather couch rustling quietly next to you. Sylus slowly moved, sitting on your lap. You pull the cigarette away so as not to accidentally hurt him. His face pressed against your neck. You gently run your hand through his hair, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Sylus, you like it? Feel better now?"

He tilted his head to meet your gaze, staying silent for a few seconds, just looking into your eyes. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t quite comprehend. Slowly, without a word, he reached for your hand wich was holding the nearly smoked cigarette.

Sylus brought it to his chest and, without breaking eye contact, pressed the burning end against his skin, leaving a scorching mark. A soft sizzling sound is heard as it begins to go out. His face remained calm, but you can feel the tension in his body, see how the pain reflects in his breathing.

“I like everything you do with me [name].”

It was truly difficult to understand him. Every gesture, every emotional reaction seemed so contradictory. He was a person who hid his feelings behind masks and extremes, making his behavior almost unpredictable. You tried to make sense of it, but every time you felt like you were only scratching the surface of what was really going on inside him.

He lowered his gaze, the corners of his lips rise in a sly grin when he noticed that you’re hard again.

[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 :)

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Perfect Stranger

Summary- Eddie runs into someone needing his help late at night, and like the gentleman he is, he knew he couldn’t leave you all by yourself.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- A drunk asshole not understanding when he’s made a girl feel uncomfortable 🙃

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

Word Count- 1.2k

Eddie took one last puff off of the cigarette butt between his fingers before tossing it to the ground, blowing the smoke up into the night sky as he began down the crowded sidewalk. Smaller shows were his absolute favorite shows to attend, he adored being able to support the local scene, just as long as they didn’t mind taking a flyer for Corroded Coffins next show.

They always ended the same: the crew would clear out their equipment along with a majority of the people in the crowd, meanwhile the band would be at the bar talking with friends and a few new fans. The only unfortunate part was that Eddie promised Wayne this wouldn’t be another night where he was out past 3 a.m. A smirk came to his lips as he checked his wristwatch. Only 1:45, so technically he was still on time.

Just as he put his arm back down, he jumped, not seeing you standing so closely to him, smiling big with a look in your eyes he’d only seen in movies. When those damsels in distress finally see their knight in shining armpit to take them away from whatever evil was keeping them captive.

He didn’t know how right he was.

“Hey!” You said, eyes wide with that same smile on your lips, “Where have you been, i’ve been looking all over for you?”

Confused wouldn’t even begin to describe the way Eddie was feeling.

There was this girl in front of him, a complete stranger, dressed up all pretty with your makeup and hair done. He started to think he saw you in the crowd at the show. Yet still, a stranger, who was clearly VERY happy to have found him. It was only when he looked up behind you and saw an irritated man a few feet away.

He was dressed up in the same clothes, another guy from the show he assumed, only this one didn’t seem like the type to not be a problem. Eddie glanced down and immediately picked up this schtick you’d begun when you looked into his eyes and mouthed ‘Help. Me.’ to him. That was enough to get anyone’s clear attention.

“Hey!” He smiled, his arm quickly going around your side to pull you close to him, “Sorry, i think i just got caught up at the bar, my bad.”

“That’s ok!” You nodded, hoping the relief in your voice translated as a ‘thank you’, “I told you he was around here somewhere,” You said to the creep, “he can get me back just fine.”

Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ easily.

“You’re sure?” He shrugged, “How do i know you’re not just making shit up? I’m just trying to be nice, you should be thankful.”

“Hey.” Eddie said sternly, even making you jump slightly, “Don’t tell her how to feel asshole, she said she’s fine.”

“Oh come on, I’ve been talking to this bitch all night and she’s been all alone until now.” From the way his words were slurring it was quite noticeable how many drinks this guy had at the show. Another drunk asshole thinking he can creep on any girl he wants, and Eddie wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Yeah, well her boyfriend is here now so i think you should get lost.” Eddie pulled you closer into him, getting ready to shield you just in case this guy decided to get any closer.

The drunk tilted his head with a sour look on his face, staring directly at you as he tried his best to stand on his own two legs. His attention was drawn elsewhere when he saw the familiar shine of the streetlights against the red and blue siren atop the police car that just so happened to be driving by.

With an eye roll and a scoff from the drunk, you thought you could hear him muster out something, but as soon as it started it was over. He shook his head as he turned on his heel, finally leaving you alone, especially after not wanting this to get any more serious than it had already been.

Eddie watched as the drunk turned the corner, keeping you at his side just in case he decided to come back.

“You alright?” He asked you, his hands holding your forearms tightly, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I’m alright.” You smiled with a sigh of relief knowing that he was finally gone, “He just wouldn’t leave me alone… Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it…” You were about to thank him formally but it had finally got you that you didn’t even know his name.

“Eddie.” He said with a smile, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Eddie.” You confirmed, taking his hand and giving it a gentle shake, “I’m (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You smiled before a quick deep breath, “Thank you again, really. That drunk asshole has been bothering me all fucking night.”

“God, i can’t imagine.” Eddie slowly walked with you closer to the bar, at least there you’d be around with people if that guy decided to come back, “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” You shrugged, “It wouldn’t be the first time some dick at a show decided i was gonna be his target for the night. It’s usually easy, im always with my friends, but the one night i decide to go to a show by myself…” You took another deep breath, shaking your head for letting yourself get so stupid and go to a show by yourself when you knew this would happen. Again.

Eddie gently put his hand to your shoulder,

“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but that asshole, he’s the one who got too drunk to notice how creepy he was being.”

His reassurance helped to ease your anxiety, and he seemed like an overall nice guy considering how quickly he caught onto helping you.

“Thank you.” You said with a kind smile, your eyes finally meeting his. They looked almost black in the night, but the chocolatey glare from the yellowed street lights made them seem so soft.

“Of course. If you like i’d be happy to stick around you for a little bit, or i can walk you to your car if you need me to?”

“Honestly, after all that,” You chuckled nervously, replaying the nights events in your head, “i could use a drink.”

“Hear, hear.” Eddie laughed, holding his arm out for you to take, “I’ll buy. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You cautiously took his arm, pulling close to him as you began your slow stroll towards the still open bar. It may have a few more drunk assholes left straggling around but at least this time you had some protection.

With the combination of the yellow streetlights overhead and the music of the bar playing in the distance, mixed with the rustle of the leaves as a breeze flew by, it made the moment seem almost romantic.

You may have just met one another, just you were happy to get to know this stranger. No matter how long it took.

[anathemaspeaks]

it's late. way past the threshold of an acceptable sleep time, but you can't find it in yourself to succumb to the drowsiness that threatens to spill out any moment now, luring you into that familiar, sweet slumber.

not when satoru is beneath you, propped up against the headboard, with his piercing blue gaze focused only on you. cushioned by soft pillows, with his silky white hair disheveled due to his position as you straddle his torso. not that you mind, though.

it almost forms a halo around his head.

you suppose that makes sense. every angel does have a halo, after all.

it's dark outside, and the dim lighting of the room doesn't help much, but you can still see those little stars dotting his perfect face clear as a beam of sunlight poking through gray clouds on a rainy day.

and you can't help but think he's beautiful.

beautiful, like the rainbow at the end of a storm. beautiful, like stars twinkling in the abysmal cloak of the night. beautiful, like the recklessly consistent ocean waves that never cease to mesmerize.

beautiful, nearly divine.

it was nights like this that you realized how heavenly your boyfriend truly was. how truly lucky you were to have him. and with his warm hands placed securely on your waist, you fall irrevocably more in love with him as he lightly caresses the area, as your fingers gently move across his face to help you count, with your other hand brushing away his hair from his forehead.

"seventeen, eighteen- mmph, 'toru!"

or rather, you would be counting, if it wasn't for satoru interrupting you with a kiss every other second.

it never failed to leave you dazed - the feeling of his soft lips on yours. no matter how many times he had kissed you, you would never not fluster at the feeling. a simple kiss could leave you a blushing mess. but if there was anyone you trusted with that much power over you, it would be satoru.

to assume you didn't have the same effect on him would be wrong, though, wouldn't it?

to him, you were simply irresistible. you're all he has ever needed and so much more, and his heart is beating so fast he fears you may hear it. he's flushed, the pink tint on his skin mirroring your own state. he just loves you so much he can't just not kiss you.

but the cherry on top was you. just being your normal, precious self and counting his freckles. it was so intimate, so intense and yet so soft - so undeniably you. he wanted to hold you in his arms forever, to shower you in kisses and to talk and giggle until late hours of the night.

you, with your gentle touches, showing love to every single part of him. you, who looks at him like he hung the very stars in the sky. you, who makes him feel so...complete.

and in this moment - with nothing except the both of you and stolen kisses and breathless laughter, you know you wouldn't trade this feeling for anything in the world.

old draft bc i wanna start writing again soon

[jolapeno]

12. stormy sky

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter twelve of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.6k chapter warnings: anxious!reader. allusions to bad mental health day/sadness. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is dedicated to all those who sometimes just need a day, a hug and a love. i see you, and i love you (notes at the bottom).

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It wasn’t often you felt the storm coming before it arrived.

At times, it was kind enough to make itself more obviously known than on other occasions. Sometimes, it just happened, almost beyond your control—a feeling that wells up inside, leaving you in a funk for a day or two.

An unexplainable force that commands you to smile outwardly but crumble inwardly.

Then, you rise again the next morning, or in a few, completely anew—like nothing had ever happened.

Occasionally, it rides in on unexplainable sadness that follows you like a rain cloud, spreading out into swelling grief that chokes you from the inside out. Other times, it would be a headache that bloomed behind your eyes into something uncontrollable, unmanageable, that only settled with bedsheets and darkness.

As soon as the email appeared in your inbox, you felt the latter. It throbbing, pulsing—beginning somewhere between your second to final nerve.

Things shifting; a wave forming. One which rose inside of you when you weren’t aligning with the person you were working with. It growing. Swelling. Expanding inside of you to the point you were sure it was going to dislodge bone and deform you forever. The words on the screen slowly blur, barely discernible as sentences and not just another paragraph of failure.

You knew this could happen. From time to time creative visions weren't always going to align. A thing you reminded yourself of regularly, routinely. Telling yourself it in the shower, mirror or as you make your third coffee past midnight.

It never does lessen the sting, though.

Just like now, when your hand can't seem to stop slamming the lid of your laptop shut, or when you find yourself nervously nursing your lower lip between your teeth, a bubbling sensation begins within. Your mind fractures, allowing a flood of negative thoughts to pour forth, corroding, spewing and slathering itself over everything good.

You clutch at your phone, feeling the rubber of your case. Not even thinking; not even checking the time—just calling.

And hoping.

Waiting.

As soon as you hear his sunshine-like voice say your name and 'Are you okay?' (practically spoken as one word), you feel yourself take a breath.

Becoming aware, only then, of how damp your cheeks are, that your hand is shaking as he repeats the question, more gently, less dunked in worry.

Surprisingly, it feels easy to say no. To unravel silently to him as he asks you a question you rarely have been asked: 'Do you want to talk about it or something different?'

It’s small, a simple thing. But your heart swells. Your shoulders unlodge themselves from your ears and your spine softens, making the choice, all with far too much ease. Taking in the sound of his voice as he clears it, you hear him ask lowly and gruffly if you're comfortable before he begins explaining how he has a non-permanent tattoo of a creature on his arm.

Not a dinosaur, Rainy. Not even something born or created from Jurassic Park—and how he was worried that due to its placement, people would think Harold’s had become rougher, more dangerous business.

“Dangerous?”

You swear you hear him shrug. “People might see me, all tattooed up and think the worst of the place.”

Giggling, your fingers massage your head. “Where is it?”

“Guess.”

For a brief moment, like when light shines from behind the clouds, you grin. Guessing, naming body parts you know it couldn’t be, but only to hear his laugh—bathe in the joy that he can only summon, rinse your woes in it in the hope tomorrow you wake lighter.

“Ass.”

“They’d definitely think Harold’s had fucking changed if my ass is out baby.”

Smirking, climbing into bed (his advice, one you happily took). “I think I’d visit more. It’s peachy.”

Peachy he scoffs, but you swear he’s grinning. Adjusting the t-shirt as you lie down—one of his, stolen (with permission) from the drawer you’d made for him, taking in the scent of him, all musk, wood and man as you welded it with the voice as you discover it’s on his cheek.

“How are you going to explain that one?”

His laugh flows down the phone, meeting your ear as you lean against your pillows, trying (with all that you have) to almost convince yourself that he was here—and not streets and streets away.

Morning, guess what doesn’t come off with soap and a scrub? A monster.

Hope you slept okay, baby. Can bring a coffee round on my break. Can even see if I can sweet-talk a larger one for you. Put it in a flask.

Rainy, you awake?

Baby I don’t mean to worry, I bet you’re fine, just busy caught up in doing work, but just let me know you’re okay.

I have the spare key still from that delivery. If you don’t want to see me, tell me.

You’re not sure of the time—drifting on wood out at the sea of your own making. Having done so for a while.

Distantly aware of the passing of time. That it was no longer 3 am, which had been the last time you'd last checked the time. The sun is far too bright through your curtains; desperate to claw its fingers in and yank you from your sheets.

It doesn't, can't.

Instead, you're floating; lost somewhere between awake and asleep—only being disturbed, rocked from it, at the sound of your front door opening. The stiffness of the door, the squeak of a floorboard. All things which should fill you with alarm, but barely make your head move.

Because it's thumping.

Pounding.

Too much stuffed in there to do anything but lie there. Split at the seams, the rest of you shaken like a snow globe.

It crosses your mind—briefly—that if they were here to rob you, they’d find very little to take. If they were here for you, they were most definitely mistaken. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even if your ears are tuning, trying to twist to each noise, only relaxing when you hear the intruder mutter fuck.

Because you know that fuck. Know the exact voice as though it lives in your head with the one that wouldn't quiet at 3 am.

For the most part, you have to admit Frankie is quiet. A skill he likely gained from his former life, the one where it was a necessity. He just didn’t know your home. You only being able to tell he’s here from the little things, like that he’s not completely aware your front door gets a little stuck when it’s really warm and that some floorboards are looser than others.

In the same way, he doesn’t know that if you open your partially shut bedroom door slowly, it groans like it’s being personally offended—

“Mierda.”

You’re sure you croak a Hi Frankie.

You think it anyway; wanting to give an invitation to come closer, to move further in as your eyes try to focus on the money tree named Moana. With each blink, the leaves slowly come into focus as you begin to adapt to the brightness cast in by, what you now assume must be the afternoon. Blinking when you see him crouch down, all soft curls and silky brown eyes.

“You worried me.”

Swallowing, struggling to shove the dryness back, you clear your throat. “Headache.”

He’s gentle, slowly placing his palm on the side of your head, thumb brushing over the skin above your brow as he shifts in his crouched position. “Worse than that time you told me about?”

“About the same.”

It’s quiet, the way he answers with okay. Thumb doing a final swipe before you hear a pop of his knee as he stands, a mumble of Be right back, baby before the floorboards creek and you can hear him opening and closing cupboards in your kitchen. With a sigh, you close your eyes briefly, being roused by a gentle breeze caressing your cheek to find he'd returned, a glass of water in one hand and a crinkling packet in the other.

“Do you want to get in?”

“Sure,�� he says, in the familiar deep voice—as you shuffle with ease.

Not daring to lift your head, to move too quickly or violently. The mattress dips as the bed groans when he throws his feet up, sliding into the warmth you’ve been creating for hours, finding his eyes—how that worry is still there. It swirling, likely mixing with the gold flecks and deep browns you admire every chance you can get.

You worry you've spoiled them, tainted them. Made them swirl with sadness caused by worry. And the thought makes your insides hum, as though someone has plucked all your strings. The twang of it trying to mix with the other emotions you don't feel equipped to unpiece.

“I’m s—”

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, firmly. Not accompanied by any smile.

A thing you know he means when he asks you, voice wrapped in satin, if you can take a sip for him. His arm slides around you, trying to pull you close as you do more than that, but rather consume, drain, and finish the glass.

When you hand it back, you think about the fact that a you with your head not coming apart might have teased him, might even throw your leg over his and asked him if he thinks sex gets rid of migraines like it does headaches. But, the words catch, stick and clag to the roof of your mouth.

Something rising, the emotions you’d shoved down trying to weave up. Climb. Stick their spikes into your oesophagus and crawl out your mouth. That is, until his palm spreads out, the width of his fingers sliding further up and along your spine. The act aiding you, guiding you to take a measured breath. One that stammers, hammers. One that floods inside of your chest, rising and rising like it wishes to crash against a beach and take everything to shore—

But, then it eases, calms.

All being gobbled back up, calmer waves lapping as you shift, seeing him lit by muffled, golden yellow. Listening to his heart, the breaths he takes as you try to follow them—even the scratching of his beard as he tucks himself closer and asks nothing, except silently, to be here.

Eventually, when you stop counting seconds, the quiet is broken—not rudely, or unnecessarily, but just with: “What can I do?”

“You’ve done it.”

Turning to see him—to find the gaze you know will already be on you. To look at the face you think of and have truthfully only wanted to see, there. You begin to explain, letting it all unravel, it unspooling from your tongue. Maybe sharing too much, like that no one you’ve dated has shown up like this before, and that you don’t ever expect him to do it again.

Shifting closer, as you continue talking, eyes closed to not aggravate what is trying to lessen, as you add extra context, sharing what happens, that you’re okay—but that sometimes you’re not. Statements, mainly. Likely broken sentences you somehow mash into paragraphs. Filling in the gaps, from the last weeks to now, to the email and then the call. How it happened—

“Maybe it’s because I’m happy.”

“Hmm?”

Shrugging gently against him, your chest fills with air before you exhale it in one long drag through your nose. “Maybe because I’m happy, my work isn’t that good.”

“Maybe.” His fingers find your chin, turning your eyes to his. “Or maybe he’s got very high expectations and the two of you just aren’t a good fit.”

Chewing your lip, you lower your gaze. “Yeah, maybe.” Unconsciously turning into the palm resting on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as you dare yourself to find his eyes. “I really hate people sometimes.”

Snorting, you feel his lips press to your forehead. “Let me tell you about this fucking asshole who tried to tell me the white paint he was buying wasn’t white.”

You press yourself closer to him ready to listen, hand sliding across his middle as you grasp more of his shirt, finding the smallest smile trying to crack through.

The next time you wake it’s to the smell of breakfast.

There's humming too, occasional words floating from the kitchen through the open door of your bedroom.

A coy smile already tugging across your cheek, the storm having waned, moved to the distance. But still, you test to see if it's safe as you lift from the pillows—sleep rubbed from your eyes as you spot the crumpled side of the bed. See the empty glass you’d drank before he held you, the jacket he’d been wearing when he’d showed up impromptu folded on the floor near the dresser.

Then, the grossness hits. The awareness that your skin feels claggy and awful, shuffling your feet from the bed, all the way to your bathroom.

His t-shirt peels from you with reluctance. The sadness eventually glides down the drain as the water falls down your skin—stepping out feeling refreshed.

Smiling as you head down the hallway, not forcing a smile as you slide your hands around his waist, fingers moving under the band of his tee, as they stroke over soft, warm skin and the dark hairs that swirl across his middle.

“Thank you,” you say, the words so large you hope they land with the weight you intend them to.

He turns and kisses you, whispering a don't against your minty mouth. Hovering for a moment there, before his mouth finds you again, more hungry, more laced with words as he presses you against the counter. Nowhere to go as he tilts your chin up. “You're worth showing up for, Rainy.”

You swear your heart triples in size as you bury your face in his tee and grin something stupid against him as he continues to sing whatever is playing out loud on his phone.

Do we need to go furniture shopping before or after you put the shelving in?

Probably before in case we need to order things. How’s your mini project coming along?

Well, I followed this tutorial by this very handsome man, and it seems easy to do, but my kitchen shelf isn’t straight.

Did you follow all of the instructions?

Now why would you assume I didn’t?

Because it sounds like you didn’t make sure it was level, baby.

Rude.

But did you?

I may have assumed that my eyesight was good.

How many holes do I need to fill in?

Oh, just the one.

In the wall.

Oh. Eight.

Since the moment he picked you up, you've been buzzing with excitement, just as you have been all week since he told you where he was taking you.

A skip in your step when you locked your door, the sun warming your skin in the short walk to the door he'd opened for you. Remembering how he teased you on the phone last night—you made a Pinterest board of what it could look like?—as you sat cross-legged on the couch, listening to him, shaking your head at the camera.

He handed you the coffee—brewed and made by him—only when you were seated. Another thing you were also sure had added to the swirling excitement in your stomach.

The drive, thankfully, hadn't been long. Undoing your belt when he kills the engine, his palm pressing down on your knee.

“No plants.”

“Are you asking me, or are you telling me?”

Leaning across the centre of his vehicle, he pulls your lips to his. “A very polite ask.”

“You don’t fancy your own Benedict or Henry?”

The tip of his nose touching yours, “I really don’t.”

You suggested other names as the two of you walked to the store's entrance, hand slotting inside his. Only silencing from your torment when your footsteps echoed softly against the glossy tile floors—blending with the rumbles of distant, murmured conversations, phone rings and furniture being rearranged.

Suddenly, the two of you were enveloped in the scents of polished wood and fresh upholstery, a scent you’re sure you used to like, but now really freaking loved.

Because this place is nice. The soft glow of overhead lights bathed the showroom in a warm, inviting ambience—casting a gentle spotlight on each carefully curated display. It was a scene straight out of a home decor magazine—every homeowner's dream.

"C'mon, Rainy," he coos, guiding.

Adding a soft this way from the back of his throat, becoming aware of his fingers brushing over the back of your jeans—along the pockets, along the expanse of your ass as you eye him, finding that same shy smirk that could explode into something more devilishly and ridiculously hard to resist.

A thing he already is without trying.

A thing which worsens when his arm comes around and keeps your side flush to his as the two of you make the way to the rows and rows of desks.

It makes sense to begin here.

To choose the ‘centrepiece’ of the room—as Frankie had explained on the drive—because everything has to fit around it. A thing you’d teased that you thought he was good at making things fit. To which he’d, playfully, replied that he was good, but he wasn’t fit-a-desk-and-a-dresser-an-armchair-and-shelving-good. A thing you'd promptly argued.

Stepping from his side, fingers brushing over the top of one, you glance over at them all. How they’re all vying for your attention, each with a unique allure. From sleek modern to rustic wood.

Catching Frankie's eye and with a mischievous grin, you take a seat behind one of the desks.

“Frank DIY’s office, how I can hammer you a good time today?” you say into the faux telephone, “Oh, I am sure Mr Morales would be able to… bend over and get himself in—I mean, you in.”

Frankie shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you get up and sit behind another, typing on the desk as a keyboard, pretending to stare at the unplugged monitor that had no computer with it. Then moving to another, one with a desk mat and no other items than a plant that looks chewed by tiny teeth, before pulling yourself on the wheels behind one with drawers and a keyboard but nil else.

“Oh, hello sir. Your 2 o’clock is here.”

“Is that right?” he asks, folding his arms. “What am I doing for this appointment?”

Smirking, fingers poised over the keys. “They wish to know how to check if a desk is stable. For two people.”

You hear him take in a breath. Lips threatening to spread into a smirk before he clears his throat. “To work at?”

Shaking your head, you grin.

“I’ll have to call my assistant in. She’s a handful, bad with drilling, but, she can help me.”

Laughing, almost hiccuping from it, he stares down at you—palms still very flat against the desk—as it fades and spreads into a smile that hurts your cheeks. “There it is.”

“There’s what?”

“My smile.”

Eyes widening, you snort. “Your smile?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Mine.”

Rolling your lips, standing from the wheely chair, you raise your brows. Moving around the edge, fingers dancing along the wood until you’re standing perfectly in front of him—eyeing him, as always unable to take your eyes from him.

“I think I like this one,” you add, running the tips of your fingers over the smooth surface of the desk. “There’s no price though—or sizing.”

Frankie glances at it, eyes flicking from each of the sides as he likely does math gymnastics. “You’ll have a lot of space for your dresser—the butterscotch one.”

“You just know that do you?”

“Grab a measuring tape and I’ll confirm it,” he grins.

Hand on hip, you arch a brow as Frankie's laughter fills the air, but you can see it in his eyes, the challenge.

“Get it yourself, Morales.”

Pinching your ass, he walks around it. “I’ll remember that.”

Shaking your head, he snaps a photo of the desk—staring at his screen to check it before locking it. His hand offered to you.

“Chairs?”

Leaning close, voice dropping, you—all velvet-like— whisper, “Your face not on offer when I’m working?”

Pink spreads up his neck, tongue clicking against his teeth, he smiles. Grins. His fingers tighten around yours as you’re sure his eyes actually sparkle. “From the way you weren’t able to form sentences last time, not sure you’d get much work done.”

The chairs, for how colourful and varying they were, felt less fun than desk shopping. Most of them were out of reach, high up on shelves—having to assess whether they were as comfortable as they looked or if it was a lie. A game that got less and less fun the more you trailed.

Frankie, likely guessing your joy was wavering, grabbed a basket at some point—allowing you to peruse the mini plant aisles and other decorative things. For your shelves, he said, for the shelves, you replied, grinning, even as you grabbed a particularly wiry cactus you named Cisco.

“You think you’ve got at least one of everything in here?”

Fake laughing, your elbow confidently finds his side—hearing a gruff huff from him. “Almost. I just need—”

Eyes spotting it, body moving all of its own accord as though the required item had been lit under a spotlight and heaven-like noises had begun playing. Fingers gliding over each, brushing over fleece fluff that left marks of your touch, to more knitted, firmer types, too many choices all to be shared at, contemplated.

You feel it before you see it. Pain flaring from your side as your head whips—meeting the disgruntled face of another shopper, the end of their cart still firmly against your side as though somehow, you were the one who was required to move. Even after he’d practically rammed the cart into you.

“Hey man, watch it,” Frankie says, arm sliding around you, pulling you close.

The smallest of gaps made, created, between yourself and the offending cart. The pain throbbing, the embarrassment simmering, as you fight rubbing the impacted sight as it continued to pound, hearing:

And maybe, if you had looked across, you would have seen the man scoff—observed the expression that made Frankie tense even more protectively next to you You would have noticed why his usually soft smile shifted into a thin line as a storm brewed inside of him before you heard:

“She's the one in the way.”

An adult-like response if you've ever heard one. A thing you shake your head at, but reach your hand up to touch Frankie's chest, tapping lightly as you watch him visibly swallow whatever had been about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he mutters a few choice curses under his breath, shooting a silent but determined look to the person as they mumbled the most pathetic apology known.

But, you didn’t, don’t.

Because, if you had, you'd have missed the way it all vanished when his eyes met yours. How it was erased, wiped all clean. Every affliction on his face, from the hardened eyes to the twitch of his nose, slipped away back to its recess.

“You alright, baby?”

Not one blame placed on you; not even a thought to do so, as his knuckles brush your cheek.

“I’m fine, Butterscotch. It's nice to meet protective you, though.” His eyes shifting from you quickly, the deepest of reds flooding his ears, you flatten your hand to his chest. “I appreciate it.”

Meeting your stare, he swallows. “You sure you're okay?”

Biting the inside of your cheek when his palm, warm and spreading heat, begins stroking over the offended area, you nod. Grinning.

Because if anything, you're pretty sure you might be in love with him.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

notes: i've drip fed rainy's difficult client for a few chapters now, as well as her little wobbles with anxiety. i know this isn't everyone's experience, but i think we can all relate to those days when getting out of bed just feels hard. i hope you're all okay, and just know i'm always here. no one is ever alone when the grey clouds are overhead, even if they clouds hope to make us feel that way. ily all, jo.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo teasing the heck out of you after realizing you get flustered by his eyes

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: After working with smooth operator Gojo Satoru for years, he slowly but surely began to realize what your true weakness is: his bright blue orbs. And he wouldn't be Satoru Gojo if he wouldn't use that against you...

Warnings: none really, language maybe. Shout out to the anon who requested this! I know I already posted it yesterday, but my Tumblr completely broke down at some point and I had to write support multiple times so this got lost in translation somehow...Hope you still enjoy <3

Tag List: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 (if you wanna get added to my permanent tag list leave a comment to let me know)

Urgh, why does this man have to look so shamelessly good? Your eyes dart towards him when his skilled fingers are about to take his blindfold off. You truly hate Satoru Gojo and the way he carries himself with so much self-consciousness. Yes, Satoru Gojo is one of those men who know exactly how good they look and how to use this power over weak people.

Weak people like yourself.

You aren’t even able to realize how blatantly you stare at him before his eyes meet yours, cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Enjoying the view, (y/n)?”

Oh, how much he loves the blush that immediately turns your cheeks red, whole face screwed up in pure embarrassment. You’re like an open book, so easy to read that he just can’t help himself. Over the last months of working together with you as teachers at Jujutsu High, he slowly but surely began to realize the power he has over you. How your gaze always wanders towards him, eyeing him up and down. How you seem to automatically walk his direction without even noticing. Yes, it is clear to everyone else that you are attracted to him.

And you are miserable at hiding it.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, you huff, shielding your eyes from his intense orbs.

Fuck, he caught you staring again. You swore to yourself to stop this madness. Yes, you are a grown woman, a truly skilled teacher at Jujutsu High. Seeing a good-looking man shouldn’t leave you all flustered. What about Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto? Why are you able to act professional around all these ridiculous gorgeous men?

Because they don’t have those eyes.

Oh, those striking blue orbs that seem to hold the entire oceans of earth, the eyes that shine like diamonds in sunlight. As soon as you catch a glimpse of him without his blindfold or even better sunglasses you are completely doomed.

And he knows. Satoru Gojo definitely knows. And that’s exactly why he uses every little bit against you whenever possible.

“You’re staring again”, he purrs.

You shake your head vehemently. Stop this madness, you are too old to act like that! With a swift motion you turn on your heels, walking away from him as fast as possible while sweat runs down your forehead. Why the hell did he have to catch you again? How embarrassing, why do you have to act like a horny teenager? Satoru Gojo is nothing more than a beautiful man with way too much charm. What is so special about him?

“You’re walking the wrong way. Your students are waiting over there.”

You stop in your tracks. Please, let the ground break open and swallow you whole.

“Screw you”, you hiss under your breath.

-at training-

“You’re doing quite well today, (y/n). I’m impressed.”

You swing around elegantly, avoiding his attacks under any condition. You narrow your eyes over his dumb comment, gazing at him just long enough to witness how he’s taking his blindfold off.

Oh.

What a gorgeous man. That bright blue orbs that elevate the delicate features of his face so well, how they seem to match the sky above so perfectly. Satoru’s eyes surely have something no men else has. Is it charm, is it the infinite power he holds in those eyes? You can’t put a finger on it.

In fact, you aren’t even able to react when he sweeps you off your feel, back clashing against the hard floor underneath.

Ouch. You groan in annoyance, gazing up at him in distress. This…this was on purpose. That fucking asshole.

“You have some nerve”, you hiss through gritted teeth, face going completely red in the split of a second.

You look so lovely to his feet, whole face screwed up in anger while a wave of embarrassment rolls over you without mercy. Yes, he caught you staring again. Why does it have to be so damn amusing to mess with you? But there’s something else…

Sure, he messes with Utahime and his students all the time just for the fun of it. Something about you is different, though. Yes, it’s not exclusively about laughing his ass off. He likes the way you blush under his gaze, how you react when he looks at you with his bare face. The way you aren’t able to control your emotions at all pulls on his heart strings in a way it shouldn’t.

“Need a hand?” he questions, stretching out his hand in front of you.

“Leave me alone”, you bark at him, smacking his arm away while standing up.

When will this madness finally end? Why can’t you just pull yourself together? You know Satoru Gojo for many years by now, you fought on his side so many times that you lost count. Why? Why on earth are you still not able to contain yourself? Why do you have to get all flustered when this jerk bats his eyelashes at you?

“It’s quite cute to be honest.”

“What?”, you mumble, turning away from his intense stare.

“The way I make your knees go weak just by taking my sunglasses or blindfold off.”

You swirl around, rage running through your veins. Did he really say that out loud? God, please let lighting hit and kill you right on the spot. Why…why did he have to say it like that? Your face feels hot like a thousand fires, it seems like you forgot how to talk.

“What, cat got your tongue (y/n)?”

He sneaks up on you, step by step nearer. Oh god, you feel like fainting. What the hell is happening here? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes completely locked with his intense gaze.

“T-that’s…not true”, you stutter.

Within all the years you knew Satoru Gojo, it was never more than an innocent crush, never more than him teasing the heck out of you. But now he lingers above you, heat of his body so near that it feels like you’re burning alive. No, you never allowed your mind to wander this far, to imagine him this close. But now…

“Are you sure about that? Your body tells me differently. For example, the way your cheeks burn up…”

His fingertips brush against your cheek, gently caressing it.

“Or how your whole body trembles…”

He lets his other hand glide over your shivering arm.

“Oh, and the way your breath got stuck in your throat. What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did you forget how to breathe?”

His face draws closer, only inches away until…

You let out your shaky breath. He suddenly stops, only inches away from the heat of your lips.

“See, I told you I make you weak”, he purrs.

Oh god, lord have mercy. What are you supposed to do now? It seems like your mind went completely numbed, glossy eyes staring at him wide open. He is so close that you can smell him, so close that you can literally feel him. This isn’t about his eyes anymore, it’s about him. Satoru Gojo and the goddamn power he has over you, how you fold just by one glance of him.

“Well, I need to get going now. See ya, (y/n)!”

As fast as this sweet moment approached he is gone in the wind, already on his way back to Jujutsu High. You stay behind, glancing at his back completely bamboozled.

That asshole. He only played with you.

“I fucking hate you Satoru!”, you shout, running after him with your fist flying through the air.

“Nice try”, he comments, catching your hand mid-air.

“But I meant what I said, you really are cute. It’s just that I have a meeting in…oh, 30 minutes ago. Bye (y/n).”

With one last glimpse into his ocean blue eyes he’s gone. That jerk who sweeps you off your feet with his orbs only, the man that makes you feel like a child again.

You sign to yourself. Wow, you really are weak.

[blu-ish]

🌦️Song of the storm (Sonadow fic)

...

It seemed like it was never ending. The rain poured like a faucet throughout the forest, bending leaves and branches down with a powerful force. Completely soaking the soil below. It was almost as if the world itself wept. Shadow couldn’t help but stare in awe, almost completely forgetting the figure that sat beside him. 

“It’s coming down pretty hard huh.” Sonic said, leaning a bit forward to look out at the darkened sky from their makeshift shelter in a small cave. Small wasn’t even the correct term, there was barely enough room for the both of them. However, Shadow could appreciate the hedgehog’s attempt at digging some of the dirt out to create some extra space.

He could see Sonic reaching out his muddy gloves to wash with the streaming water on the cave's lip. The ebony hedgehog hummed in agreement, “Yes, it is.”

“Interrupted our race too!” The blue hedgehog pouted, which was sorta amusing Shadow supposed. 

“It’s no biggie though, the plants needed a drink.” Shadow grimaced as Sonic shook his hands to which he could only fathom was to dry them, not so much himself though. He grumbled, shooting a glare at the hedgehog who only chuckled nervously in response.

All became silent yet again in the hedgehog's burrow, all except the song of the storm.

Another hour passed, and a second, and then a third, soon both hedgehogs seemed to grow sick of their shelter turned prison. 

Shadow hugged his knees, there was no possible connection out here to get in touch with Rouge or Omega. Even Sonic had tried to contact Tails, Amy, and even Knuckles at one point– which surprised the hybrid because he wasn’t even aware the echidna could get a signal on his floating island.  

Shadow didn’t necessarily get cold, but each time a drop of water happened to make its way inside and landed on him, he would shiver at the sensation. He started to wonder why Maria ever told him she had once dreamed of standing in the middle of one of these like they did in her novels.

He was really debating if maybe he should just convince Sonic to make a run for it and find their way back home. But he realized Sonic’s brother’s workshop would most likely be miles from where they both decided to get lost too. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking about any of this before, why is it whenever that hedgehog drags him into anything he loses himself?

Shadow’s ears suddenly perked up, a noise, almost a murmur at first came from Sonic’s direction. He turned slowly to face him as he realized Sonic was singing. He couldn’t name what song it could possibly be, Shadow knew very little of the modern day artists. But he never took Sonic for one who could possibly carry a tune. 

“What song is that?” He found himself asking, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “If I may ask.”

Sonic blinked, he took a moment to just stare at the other hedgehog, almost like he had no clue what he was talking about. Which just caused Shadow to get even more embarrassed and frustrated that he said anything at all. That was until a lightbulb seemed to go off in Sonic’s head, he “oohed” and smiled. 

“That? It’s a lullaby, I used to sing it all the time to Tails whenever we were traveling and I would spend hours trying to get him to sleep.” He smiled fondly, eyes drifting in thought. “He doesn’t do too well in thunderstorms.” Shadow could faintly catch the blue hedgehog’s frown.

“I see.” Shadow said a little more plainly then he’d hoped. So he added, “You're worried.”

Sonic simply shrugged, “What can I say, I’m his brother. That’s all I’ll ever do.” He laughed, and Shadow found himself softly doing so as well. 

As time went on, the hedgehogs found themselves telling each other stories to pass the time. Sonic would make Shadow swear on his “coffee beans” every time not to tell Tails all the embarrassing stories he’s told him about when he was a fox pup. Shadow found it rather odd, he wouldn’t tell, but if it gave the strange hedgehog reassurance he would go along with it.

Soon the stories shifted to Sonic's childhood. Shadow never realized how long Sonic was alone when he was younger, about his life on Christmas Island. How he described the world, how even then he was willing to risk his life for all who inhabit it. The hybrid was reminded how he spent his own early days, on the Ark, but he had Maria. Just like how Sonic has Tails. 

Without really realizing it, Shadow had started telling Sonic more about his past. The experiments, the pain. About how much pressure he felt on his shoulders trying his damn hardest to be a cure for her. That’s all he ever wanted to be.

He’s not sure how it became so easy to talk about these things, he supposed it took time. Especially with someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. But he concluded that’s exactly the reason why, because while he and Sonic were complete opposites at times… they were an exact mirror image of the other. A mere reflection of who they are inside, two hedgehogs willing to risk it all to protect the world and all they love, for who they love.

They were only interrupted by the occasional sharp clap of thunder that would echo through the woods. Causing them to jump only a few times, and then laugh once more.

Soon, Shadow didn’t even notice until he glanced down that he and Sonic were basically leaning on each other. He suspected the blue hedgehog was cold, and surprisingly, he didn’t mind. He knew how Sonic felt about personal space, that was something they had in common after all. 

“How are you doing, with all this water?” As much as Shadow relished the silence, he was genuinely curious. Sonic let out a delayed “hm?”, he realized he might have caught the hero dozing off. 

“You think I can’t survive a bit of rain Shads?” Sonic scoffed with a toothy grin. “How dare you.”

Shadow’s quills stood up ever so slightly, clearly annoyed. “That’s not what I was insinuating at all.” He moved his arm away from Sonic, a very clear cold filling the void. They both noticed it, and stopped. They didn’t dare bring attention to it.

Sonic instead for whatever reason, shifted, standing as close as he could to “standing up” as he could get in the burrow. He glanced over at Shadow who was looking at him with what he guessed was an amusing expression since the blue hedgehog stifled a laugh.

“Want me to show you instead?” Sonic asked, reaching a hand out to Shadow. Right when he thought he was just starting to understand this hedgehog that confused him so, he goes and does something he would never expect. Especially from someone he knows has an innate fear of water. 

“What do you think you're doing, Sonic?” 

“You don’t have to,” Sonic said almost unnaturally softly. “But, I want you to trust me.”

Shadow sat there for a moment, trying to juggle his options as quickly as his mind allowed him. But as soon as Sonic started to put his hand down Shadow swiftly reached and took it. An action that felt a little too familiar.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I will.”

Sonic grinned, and at that same time Shadow could feel a strange twist in his chest. Perhaps he has been in here too long.

The rain was surprisingly not as wild as before as they exited their shelter, with rays of sunlight peeking through the whitening clouds above. The raindrops caught onto both their quills, beading down one by one. It was almost refreshing, but still cold, very cold.

Except for the warmth that came from Sonic’s hand. He felt that weird twist again as soon as he let go. 

“See?” Sonic uttered, breaking Shadow out of his plaguing thoughts. “Nothing to it, a little water never hurt me!”

Unbeknownst to Sonic however, Shadow could see how often his ears flicked as the water touched them, or how his fingers flexed with anticipation. As soon as Sonic’s quills started standing up, Shadow confirmed that Sonic was, in fact, not enjoying this. Which gave the hybrid an idea. 

“I see, how about a challenge then.” Shadow stated, grabbing the blue hedgehogs attention rather quickly. He grinned.

“A race, in the rain.” He then pointed back toward the direction of which he hoped would be one of the Mobian villages they were previously at before their first race. 

“First one back wins.” 

Sonic smiled, “Oh, you're on Shads!”

As they got into position, Sonic dug his shoes into the mud, trying to get as much of a grip as he could. Shadow had already felt at a slight disadvantage since his air shoes relied on heat from his chaos energy to activate; he was sure they’d work just fine, but he was hardly thinking about the mud. The rain that sprinkled his skin, kept his mind from wandering for too long.

From the moment they took off to the moments they stole glances at one another. The rain was there. 

They twisted and winded their way in between the trees, over boulders, and across the grassy hills. And again their race had turned into a game. A game of chase, just like before.

Sonic would lose Shadow, but then Shadow would find him. Shadow would hide behind something, then purposely bump into Sonic. They’re usual competitiveness was still there, but soon something else was too.

They would circle each other occasionally, with little to no real known reason between them. It was almost like a dance, one Shadow didn’t see himself losing. 

Their combined speed broke through the rain, sending raindrops flying in every direction with each sonic boom. The sound in perfect sync with the distant thunder. Each breath filled with damp air. The earth under his skates, and someone to enjoy it with right next to him.

With the village in view, he could feel Sonic beside him speed up, and so did he. He blinked raindrops out of his eyes, using a bit more energy to pass Sonic ever so slightly. 

Until it hit him.

He saw Sonic zoom away, seemingly not realizing Shadow stopped until he was a bit farther away. The blue hedgehog came rushing back, worried.

“Shadow?” He could feel his eyes darting around him, he slowly got closer to Shadow. “Are you okay, why did you stop?”

Shadow chuckled, staring up into the sky with a smile. “This is what she meant, by being in the rain.”

Sonic paused, he raised a curious brow, but smiled fondly anyway.

The two hedgehogs squinted as the sun finally made it completely through the clouds, the rain reduced to occasional sprinkles as the warmth reached them.

Shadow felt Sonic nudge him a bit, raising his arm over his shoulder. The hybrid rolled his eyes and leaned into it. Just this once.

They watched the clouds for a bit before Sonic spoke up, “You do realize I won right?”

“Oh? Did you?” Shadow peered up a bit, he felt Sonic stutter before clearing his throat. 

“Uh, yeah! You're the one who decided to have a moment in the rain while I crossed into town.” He smiled. “So what do I win?”

Shadow shrugged, “I wasn’t planning to lose, so I didn’t think that far.” he said flatly.

Sonic fake scoffed, “Oh, how you hurt me so~” Yeah, he was still as annoying as ever.

He eased Sonic away from him as he pointed a finger to the blue hedgehog's chest. “You decide what you win then.” 

Sonic had paused for a moment, back to staring at the other, and for a second Shadow could almost sense some sort of inner turmoil. Before he could ask Sonic shouted.

“Don Fachio’s chili dogs! I’m starving!” Sonic finally said, quite enthusiastically too, before adding slyly, “Your treat.”

“Fine.” Shadow could do that. But not before shooting Sonic an unheated glare. “But, you owe me one for getting us caught in that storm.”

“It’s a date then.” The blue hedgehog replied teasingly. Shadow couldn’t believe for the life of him that only a few hours ago he was letting his heart leak a bit and telling Sonic things he’s never told anyone. It was becoming a troublesome habit. But he supposed Sonic did the same, he knows a lot remained unsaid, and he’s not sure when they’d ever reveal themselves. But he did know one thing.

He wouldn’t mind being caught in the rain with him again.

[sttoru]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒.

‘malaysia, ah. . . yeah, malaysia —kuantan would be nice.’

☀︎｜nanami kento x female reader. fluff (or is it?) + heavy angst. jjk spoilers (season 2, episode 18) / chapter 120. you’re married. mentions of blood. sad / bittersweet ending. major character death. don’t show your friends who stan nanami this, they might jump from a building <3

sunny weather with a gentle breeze and the sounds of the crashing waves eventually landing ashore. the peace and quiet that most long for.

“kento, you’ve been reading for a while now.”

ah, and the voice of his lovely wife whom he cherishes most. a perfect setting — a safe space for someone who doesn’t know what right or wrong is anymore. for someone who’s tired of the way the world is.

time seems frozen when you spend it with the one you love most. and when you spend it somewhere you wish to actually be.

kento looks up from his book, eyes meeting the alluring clear stretch of ocean and the blue sky that held no clouds. his gaze then falls back down on the page he had last read — or, perhaps it was the previous page that he had been reading. or maybe the one before that. or perhaps he hadn’t even started the story.

he doesn’t know anymore. the pile of books that laid next to the rocking chair were all but a beautiful mystery. he had opened them, read them over and over, yet not a single word had been remembered.

kento doesn’t remember.

“kento?” your voice calls out once more. the sorcerer tilts his head back to look up at the one calling. there you were, standing next to him, hands on his shoulders with a gentle smile on your face.

you looked angelic. you looked like all he wanted. all he needed — a perfect complete picture.

kento hums and simply nods in response before looking down at the unknown novel in his hands, “yes, sorry, darling. i got a bit too caught up in the book.”

typical him.

a calming sound of laughter leaves your lips and kento instantly relaxes his shoulders — which he didn’t even know were tense in the first place. as if on cue, your fingers move to massage the muscles.

kento closes his eyes and sighs. he doesn’t bother putting a bookmark between the pages before closing the hardback. not like he needs it if he couldn’t even recall what he had skimmed through.

his eyes move under his eyelids — almost like they’re searching for something under the darkness of the curtains that were casted. the only thing he was focusing on right now were the noises on the beach and your sweet voice.

kento furrows his brows; the sounds of the crashing waves had soon overwhelmed the soft sound of your voice. a moment of peace was disturbed by the loud waves—waves that sounded more aggressive than gentle like they were seconds ago.

waves that sounded like continuous slashes.

a droplet of something warm falls on his skin and his eyes flutter open.

the sea was still there. the beach was still there. the house he had bought was still there. but most importantly, you were still there. though, there was an undeniable change in the atmosphere.

“you’re having a nosebleed.”

your worried comment makes kento stare up at you in confusion. a nosebleed? the pad of his thumb grazes over his upper lip. and there it was; the crimson stain slowly flowing down his finger, “oh.”

kento remembers. he remembers everything clearly. the sudden calmness in his surroundings that were once hectic; why he couldn’t recall what he had read; why the sounds of the waves had changed into something more ominous as the moments passed.

the realisation dawns upon him — and it hit hard.

“i’m tired. i really am tired.” the sorcerer mutters at last. his body was exhausted. his eyes were droopy. things were beginning to fade. the realisation was beginning to kick in. the effects of the hallucinations was starting to wear off.

he gazes at you one more time. his weak hand reaches out to yours and he interlocks your fingers. it pained him to see your eyes filled with sorrow and worry. even if you were but a fraction of his imagination.

maybe that’s how you actually are sitting on the couch in your shared home. maybe you are waiting on him to come back to you.

kento wouldn’t blame you if you did. he did promise that he’d be back, as did he do every other day. and he did come back as promised each time.

well, except for today.

“i didn’t know you were here.” the blonde sorcerer’s hoarse voice calls out once his peaceful surroundings had disappeared into thin air.

malaysia, kuantan — the beach — you. all but a nice dream. perhaps an alternative reality which he wished he could be in right this moment.

“yup. the whole time.”

kento looks down at the familiar face. the blue-haired executioner who was on the brink of finishing his lifetime once and for all.

one last sigh leaves kento’s lips; his life flashing before his eyes. both his regrets and satisfactions—his achievements and hopes.

and lastly, the moment of peace he had experienced before his time was over. you had helped him until the very end — giving him the peace he much needed during his suffering. a dream in the form of all he wished to have; of you.

the dream was a sweet replica of what could have been. but unfortunately, human dreams must always come to an end — and reality is what must be faced once they do.

that’s the way it is.

[hellishjoel]

delicate - chapter one: someone new

3.4k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

summary: Sarah decides it’s time for her dad to start dating again. Joel isn’t sure he needs to, but decides if it’s for Sarah, he’s willing to give it a go. After a few failed attempts, he finally stumbles across someone new. 

A/N: This is the first chapter of a new fic co-written with @thetriumphantpanda - we’re both so excited for you all to finally read what we’ve been working on. You’ll be able to find the masterlist on both of our Tumblrs, and we’ll be taking turns in posting chapters, so if you want to keep up to date with posting, please make sure you’re following us both! 

warnings: Joel being terrible at dating apps, mentions of being a single parent, flirting, rom-com vibes, allusions to more mature themes but nothing explicit as of now, foul language, mentions of food & alcohol, Sarah & Tommy being menaces. 

“Dad, have you thought about settling down soon?”

Joel had nearly just sat down at the dining table, a warm bowl of chili stinging his hands as he set down a glass of water with a quiet huff. 

“Am settled down.” He grumbled, diving straight into the warm bowl with ferocity. 

Sarah sighed quietly and circled her fingertip over the rim of her water glass. 

“I mean,” she tries again, “settled down with someone.”

Sarah knows this is a weird topic to bring up over dinner. She can see it in the way her father stops chewing on his food, his water glass halfway to his lips now frozen midair.

Since she was a small girl, her father’s world revolved around her. She put the sun in the sky and the smiles on his face. He put her through years of soccer practice and clarinet lessons, drove her across the state for tournaments, and made her favorite dinner when it was her birthday. She was his little girl. 

Sarah knew she had a very loving father, always lucky in that regard, but that love felt a little lost when she started attending university. All she could think about was leaving her dad in an empty house with no one to cook for, no one to bug about cleaning their room. He didn’t have anyone besides Uncle Tommy. And Sarah was sure that was the last person he wanted to spend his free time with.  

Fresh from graduating with a bachelor’s degree in biology from Texas State University, Sarah opted to live at home for a year in the hopes of saving up money for med school. And perhaps she could complete the side quest of finding a potential date for her dad. 

Joel clears his throat and wipes his hand on a paper towel, smearing it a reddish-orange from the chili.

“Don’t need anyone else when I’ve got you, peanut.” He gave a lopsided smile and continued eating. 

Why would she ask something like that? Why was she thinking about finding someone for him? 

Joel thought of himself as an independent man. Never went looking for love, going on about his business, so why start now? 

Sarah looked unsure of what to say next, wanting to push the conversation and letting that uncertainty fill the air between them. 

Joel sighs, his spoon sputtering in the bowl and listening to it clang around the rim. 

“You don’t gotta worry about me, kid. I’m fine on my own.” He insisted, shrugging casually.

“Uncle Tommy and I were talking about you, more specifically about you dating-”

Joel buried his face in his hands, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh as he ran his hands down his face, calloused palms scraping against beard stubble. 

“Sarah, what did I tell you about talkin’ to Uncle Tommy? Take nothin’a substance from those conversations.” 

“Dad, please.” His little girl was frowning now, desperate puppy dog eyes searching his own. “How bad would it be if Uncle Tommy and I put you on a few dating apps, y’know? You could meet a nice woman, take her out for dinner, do whatever you want, but you can’t not try anymore.” 

Joel snuffed out a scoff, quickly dialing it down once he was receiving daggers. 

“Peanut, ya just… you get to a certain age where you give up on that type of stuff. Love n’all. M’an old dog, been outta the game for too long.” Joel returned to his dinner, thinking the conversation was done and over with. 

Sarah let out a heavy breath through her nostrils and crossed her arms. “Dad, we’re finding you someone,  or at least we’re going to try. You can’t just-just shrug off your feelings!” 

Sarah’s chair scraped backward, standing up suddenly and commandeering the room. 

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. What happened with Mom was a long time ago. You can’t shut off trying to find love. I saw you go on two dates when I was growing up. Two! You can’t say you’ve tried, you can’t say you don’t want it, everyone wants to find their special someone. And you,” she said with wide, frantic eyes. “You are not done trying. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

Joel sat in silence as Sarah retrieved her bowl of chili and glass of water, fleeing up the stairs to her room. He sat back in his chair, shifting his jaw from side to side in thought. 

Guilt festered in his chest. Seeing Sarah so adamant about something like his love life was telling it was something she thought a fair amount about. She worried about his happiness, his life alone. 

Though he thought a life of solitude worked well for him, he couldn’t deny that small part of him that wished he had someone to share the little moments with. Sarah wouldn’t be living at home forever, and she would never be replaced in Joel’s heart, but maybe she was right that it was time for him to start trying again. 

“Okay, so I downloaded Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, eHarmony, and Farmer’s Only.” 

Sarah paraded around Joel’s smartphone, downloading different online dating apps left and right while he watched helplessly beside her on the couch. He could feel a headache spark in his temple already. 

“M’not a farmer.” 

Sarah simply shrugged and opened up the first app, Tinder. “True, but we’re trying to keep our options open.” 

Joel sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions, hearing the front door open without a knock. His brother, Tommy, paraded inside, a six-pack of beer in his hand and a jean jacket in the other. 

“The hell are you doin’ here?” Joel asked as he saddled his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the couch, eyes narrowed on his younger brother. 

“What? You think I would miss Sarah putting you up for auction?” 

“Hey,” Sarah said defensively, disliking that her Uncle Tommy was making fun of her genuine attempt to find Joel a woman. “Don’t make him feel bad. It took several hours of convincing just to get him to hand me his phone.” 

Tommy sneered and plopped down into Joel’s recliner, cracking open a beer despite it only being late afternoon. Hell, he might need one too. 

“Okay, Dad, focus. We need to fill out some of the Tinder prompts.” Sarah patted the section of the couch beside hers, Joel joining her after a few grumbles of resistance. 

“Prompts? What sorta prompts?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the phone screen she held up in her hands. 

“Prompts to get to know you better. You know, like, what are your likes and dislikes, what are you looking for in a relationship, where would you want to take someone for a first date,” Sarah continued the list until Tommy’s chuckle broke her concentration. 

“Ain’t Tinder for hookin’ up with chicks?” Tommy asked, making Joel’s head snap to Sarah. 

“Sarah, the hell are you doin’ to me?” 

“It’s not just for hookups, dad-”

“Yes, it is.” Tommy snicked, making Sarah glare at him. 

“C’mon, we’re trying everything to see what sticks.”

Joel felt rather hopeless about the whole ordeal. They added pictures, and Sarah crafted answers for his prompts. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing with the whole left, right, swiping action. At one point, he expanded the age search by accident and didn’t realize it the next morning until he got a very forward message from a young woman. 

Hey, good looking ;) you look like a big man in more ways than one, if you catch what I mean… how about you come over to mine and show me a good time, I bet we can make it fit if we try hard enough. 

Joel storms into the kitchen, shoving his phone at Sarah’s face, “Take that damn app off,” He demands, “It ain’t for me.” 

“What did she say to you?” Sarah snorts, taking the phone from him, Joel watching as she holds her finger on the icon until it wobbles. 

“That ain’t for you to know,” Joel shakes his head, “Just delete the damn thing off my phone.” 

He watches as Sarah presses the cross in the corner of the icon, making a mental note of how he can delete the rest of them later when she’s not watching, she hands his phone back to him, taking a sip of orange juice, whilst he pockets the phone. 

Despite his first attempt at dating apps failing horribly, he was intrigued. A lot of the women out there were beautiful, some with children of their own from past relationships just like him. 

Joel was trying to watch the first Dallas Cowboys pre-season game with Sarah when his phone buzzed with a notification. It was just one of those that stated he had potential matches out there on Bumble. 

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, flicked his eyes up to the television screen, and clocked he wasn’t missing anything before he opened his phone. 

A few profiles later, he landed on a woman he found with a nice smile. He read through her profile, even letting out a quiet chuckle. 

Sarah’s eyebrows were drawn together with curiosity, watching her father smile goofily at his phone. 

“What’s goin’ on with you? You’re scaring me.” She teased as she pushed herself off the couch and leaned over his shoulder to see he was actually on one of the dating apps. A small sense of pride filled her. 

“I like ‘er. Got a nice smile, funny too.” Joel affirmed with a nod. He swiped like he was directed to, but then there was nothing. 

His face fell, smile and happiness swirling down the drain as he grew frustrated. 

“How the hell do I message ‘er?” He asked, neck craning as he held up his phone to Sarah, his silent way of asking for support. 

“You can’t message women first on Bumble. They have to like you back and message you first.” Sarah said with a shrug, snagging her dad’s beer from his hand and taking a quick swig. 

Joel was only scowling in disappointment and frustration. “Y’mean, I can’t even talk to ‘er? I can’t be a proper gentleman and make the first goddamn move?” 

He grunted in annoyance, swiped back his beer, and threw up the glass bottle to drain the last of its contents as he deleted the app. “Sick of these damn datin’ apps already. None of them are worth a damn.” 

Sarah sighed quietly and found her way back to the couch, nervousness settling inside of her. He wasn’t a very disagreeable person, in fact, her dad was neutral about a lot of things. What did he want to have for dinner tonight? Anything was fine. Which movie did he want to watch? He didn’t care, said she could pick. So why was he finding so many excuses with the apps? Not even the women, but the apps. 

Part of her thought about him trying to find a woman the old-school way, but he was maybe too out of the game to brush up a conversation with a random stranger. He might fail miserably, but maybe it would help with his confidence. He only had a few apps left, ticking off one by one. 

Joel stared at the ceiling, encapsulated by the slow-circling fan overhead. Darkness laid a dark veil over his bedroom, a sliver of moonlight being cast through the window. His head laid back into the pillows, jaw ticking from side to side as he lay wide awake. He lightly scratched his chest, feeling the dark hair that clustered at his sternum as his head rolled to the side and read the digital numbers on his clock. 

Another sigh left his parted lips. It was late, far too late for someone who worked the early mornings to be awake. At least tomorrow as Friday. 

His phone vibrated gently on his nightstand, a little chime he wasn’t accustomed to. He plucked his phone from the charger and squinted at its brightness, sitting up on his forearm to read the text. It was a message from a woman on Hinge. They had matched. 

Joel grunted and stared blankly at his lock screen until it went black with inactivity. No. Just go to sleep, Joel. Forget about it. He set his phone on the bed and laid on his side, digging his cheek into a pillow and forcing his eyes closed. Well, what was she doing awake at this hour? 

He opens his phone, clicking on the ‘H’ icon with its tiny red notification dot. He pays no mind to reading the message yet, instead clicking onto the mystery womans profile. The first picture is one of her wrapped up in a big coat, plaid scarf wrapped around her neck with a bobble hat and something warm clasped in her hands - it looks like she’s in a big city from what he can tell from the blurry background behind her, but he notices how happy she looks - big grin plastered on her face that reaches all the way to her eyes. 

Scrolling further down her profile, he finds the first prompt ‘Best Travel Story’ - her answer reading about a time she’d been hiking with her family. She likes the outdoors Joel thinks - something he and Sarah also enjoy, but he shakes his head before he thinks too much about a third person he can take hiking. There’s another photo then, clearly taken in the summer - she’s in a lovely dress, sitting at a table with a young boy on her lap, perhaps a nephew? He tries not to imagine that he’s stumbled across another single parent, what good luck that would be. 

Joel doesn’t make it much further down her profile - just to the section with all of her basic information. She’s around his age, shorter than him but not by much, she’s got a yes next to drinking, but a no to smoking and drugs, and she works in marketing. A steady job, he thinks. He’s praying, silently, that when he clicks back to her message, she’s sane. 

Good evening Joel! Sorry for such a late message, I’m a slight insomniac. I love your profile, you seem lovely! How are you doing this evening? (Or this morning depending on when you read this!) 

The corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile. A slight insomniac who thought he was quite lovely. Her words, not his. Maybe asking Sarah for help on his profile wasn’t such a bad idea. His fingers twitched above the keyboard, but he was unsure of what to say next. 

Joel sat up in bed, about to shove the covers off his lap and ask Sarah for help, when he took another look at his digital clock. It’s too late to wake her, he thinks. He’ll have to craft a response on his own. He dreads it, words never really being his strong suit. Would he look creepy if he replied this late back? 

Looks like we’re both slight insomniacs. Besides being unable to fall asleep, my evening was fine. How are you doing tonight, ma’am? 

Joel sighed and stared at his response, picking it apart and cursing under his breath. Now, he was wide awake. 

Ma’am? Way to make me feel 101… charming though, I like it ;) I’m doing okay, thank you. Just enjoying the only peace and quiet I get before I go to sleep. What’s keeping you up then, Joel? 

Joel’s face crumpled, pushing a hand through his hair after reading his response over and over again. He meant it in a gentlemanly way, not to make her feel old. He really screwed the pooch on that one. Nipping at his lower lip, he tried again. 

No offense intended ma’am, I’m just a Southern man is all.  Don’t mind about what’s keeping me up, I want to know about you. You don’t get much peace and quiet until midnight? How’s that?

None taken, just not used to someone being a gentleman on these things - normally at this point someone would be asking for a picture of my tits so you’re doing well so far. It’s usually my son that keeps me up, he’s been asleep a while but I only get so much time to clear up after him, so midnight is me time once that’s all done. You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s keeping you awake? 

Joel’s smile only grew larger as she responded, and rather quickly, too. He imagined they looked quite similar right now. Different towns, different houses, both curled up in bed and staring at their phones, waiting for the other to reply. He wondered if she was smiling like he was, trying to push away an undeniable flutter in his stomach. Making him feel like a damn teenager. 

His face softened at her response. My son, she said. That boy on her profile, with chubby cheeks and a toothy smile, a head full of hair, and glee all over his face, was her son. She was a mother, just like he was a father. He wondered if she saw the young woman in his pictures and knew that was his daughter, Sarah. How could he subtly drop the hint? 

Those aren’t gentlemen, just boys. Sorry to hear they were wasting your time. I understand your limited personal time. When my daughter Sarah was young, my alone time consisted of sitting in the truck during her soccer practices and after she went to bed. It’s not easy. What’s keeping me up is partially Sarah’s fault. She’s the one who urged me onto Hinge. I don’t really know what I’m doing, to be honest. Just know a pretty flower when I see one. 

Is Sarah the young girl on your profile? She’s beautiful if so, you must be so proud of how she’s grown up. Well Joel, you don’t seem clueless, you’re keeping my attention pretty well, especially calling me pretty, I might be blushing. What made her decide now was the time for you to start dating? 

He’d never admit it if anyone asked. But it looked like he still had that Southern charm, you never really grow out of it. He reached over and plucked the string to his lamp, sitting up against his bedframe and sipping on a glass of water as he read over her reply again and again. He had a fondness for the way she complimented his baby girl. She got extra points for that. 

Yep, that’s my Sarah. She’s going to med school next year, couldn’t be prouder. I suppose she graduated from college and thinks she knows everything now. Thinks I need a love life. I think she’s felt this way for a while, but she knows I’m stubborn. What’s your son’s name? Looks like a good kid. 

Smart and beautiful, you must have very good genes Joel. That’s incredible though, I can imagine how proud you are of her. Well, I for one am pleased she’s pushed you here, you seem a really nice guy Joel. My son is Noah, he’s seven so full of beans, I’ve never known anyone have so much damn energy! 

And you seem like a real nice woman, ma’am. Sarah had so much energy at seven, that’s when I put her in soccer to run all that damn energy out of her. 

His fingers hesitated, typing out the message but not quite pressing send. He liked her. He liked how sweet and funny she was. Plus, she understood what it was like to have a kid, someone who would always be put first. 

Since it’s technically 12:57, are you doing anything tonight? Is having a drink okay for a slight insomniac? 

Well, thank you very much Joel. I have a feeling Noah and Sarah would have gotten along well if they were the same age, he’s just started soccer practice for that very reason. And, lucky for you, Noah has an evening with his grandparents tonight, so a drink sounds lovely. Just let me know a time and a place.

His heart was thumping in his chest, a tired little grin on his face as he offered to take her to The Aristocrat Lounge on the North side of Austin. They settled on seven, enough time for Joel to get home, shower, and convince Sarah to help clean him up a bit. A daunting feeling pressed into his chest, making his breath snag tight in his lungs. He was nervous, those strange butterflies still fussing around. He shoved them down, persistent on ignoring the feeling. 

It’s a date. Try to get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, ma’am. 

[diremoone]

under the clouds, in my heart | g. satoru

it’s these kinds of days that make Satoru the happiest — that remind him of the wonderful things he has in his life now; thunderstorms where his wife and children are safe and protected inside of his home are all he could ask for

w — post canon! gojo, canon-divergence, pregnant! reader, former first-year student! reader, mentions of underage relationship, mentions of being in a former! student-teacher relationship, Papa Satoru & Mama Reader, Satoru and Reader have a (growing) big family, this ended up shorter than I anticipated

a/n: another fix it fic you guys 🤧 this one has been in my drafts longer than 236

[ apart of the TFFTS universe! ]

He loves seeing you cozied up in his sweaters, no matter the time of year (he secretly keeps it colder than normal in the summertime so you’ll put them on, but he’ll never tell you that). He loves how the hemline rests at your knees, a testament to the cute height difference between the two of you.

With your pregnancy belly, like now, sweaters only seem reach mid-thigh.

Ah, he’s not complaining.

He’s back from a mission overseas a day early, one he committed to speed-running like a demon so he could get back to his growing family. It wasn’t too necessary, considering he doesn’t have to do many more missions nowadays. The only reason he was summoned was because of his long, long influence, to which he most definitely used to get back faster.

But the universe hits his Pause button the second he warps back into his lovely home. For good reason. His heavenly blue eyes take in the scene in front of him, soul imprinting this memory into itself for eternity.

Seiji, his five-nearly-six year-old firstborn, was curled up on your lap, head using your thighs as a makeshift pillow. Traitor. Satoru can hear little snores escaping his lips at the awkward position his head is in. But if Satoru tilts his head, he can see his son’s protective decision from where his head and body lay.

Sanari, his sweet daughter, is curled up by your left arm. Her white curls of hair are splayed out on the pillow behind her as her head rests on your shoulders. Satoru chuckles. He can clearly see drool at the corner of her mouth pooling onto the sweater of his you’re wearing.

Lightning lights up the sky outside. And suddenly, the gushing sound of rain is all Satoru can hear — a downpour. Huh, the clouds had been just as white as his hair earlier. He supposes anything can happen though.

He can’t even see outside anymore now. The greenery has been completely overtaken by the opaque gray of the intense rain and thunderstorm.

Satoru’s head snaps back to you and his sleeping offspring. As much as he wants to join, he can’t bring himself to. He wants to do anything besides ruin the picturesque moment in time before him.

Just look at the family he’s made for himself.

Ah, but the squirming toddler in your arms may do just that anyway. So he doesn’t debate taking Junpei from your arms as he begins to scrunch up his adorable little nose.

Besides, Satoru’s sure you’re bound to wake up soon. His Six Eyes tells him that because the cursed energy from within your tummy is starting to become restless, the twins are finally waking up.

A big family hadn’t been on his mind. You both agreed on leaving your family with Junpei as your youngest. Especially with you falling pregnant so soon with him after having trouble with Sanari’s pregnancy and birth.

But things don’t always go to plan, do they? Satoru muses.

Taking the littlest that'll soon be a big brother wakes you from your nap. You inhale and exhale deeply as your eyes flutter open, blinking quite a few times before your vision clears.

“….’toru~” Your sleepy inhale sounds like a cute sniffle; he can’t help but grin. “You’re home?”

“Surprise, baby,” Satoru mumbles as he sits down and leans over the couch and over your pregnant belly to sweetly kiss your lips. “I’ll be home for awhile this time,” he adds softly. One arm holds his son, the other wraps around the back of your shoulders, hand resting on your upper arm to gently pull your body into him to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, and he smiles and giggles into it in return.

Lightning brightens the sky, this time for the longest you’ve ever seen. And following it, is the mightiest thunderclap you’ve ever heard. It makes even your husband jump, surprised by the deafening boom. Your lips separate from Satoru’s, who’s looking out the window with you, impressed by the power of Mother Nature.

It wakes Seiji and Sanari, who despite their maturity for their age, show their age by the fat tears pooling at their eyelids. Junpei, fully awake, begins to cry too, slightly louder than his older siblings. The toddler buries himself into his daddy’s shoulder for comfort and protection. And when the other two see their dad, who’s back home early, they jump to him and do the exact same, hugging him and burrowing into his chest and neck.

You’d take a picture had your babies not been so scared.

When your hand rubs Seiji’s back, the little boy turns to you, eyes watery with fear. He takes two little steps on the couch and softly stumbles into your outstretched arms. He rests his bottom on your thigh, head burrowed into the crook of your neck, little hands balled up into fists with the sweater you were wearing between his itty bitty fingers.

“Come on, Seiji. Off Mama’s belly,” Satoru says, a slight tinge of worry to his voice as he sees him lay a little too heavily on your rounded middle.

The little boy gasps lightly and moves. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry babies.”

You chuckle and kiss his tiny forehead. Satoru presses his lips to the side of his son’s temple, his free hand reaching for his sides to tickle him, saying things about how cute he was.

Sanari takes the moment to detach from her daddy’s side and dives back into your ribs, albeit much more carefully than her older brother. She sniffles, still scared from the clash of thunder, but much calmer now that both her parents were home and awake. She burrows her head under your arm, almost behind your back, leaving her nose room to breathe in the cool air and the sweater that smells like both you and her papa.

It’s so cute, Satoru thinks. She’s the complete opposite of him. She’s the more quiet and reserved one of her siblings. And he still suspects that she still will after her younger twin siblings will be born. Satoru has a feeling, knows in his gut that they’ll be the most extroverted of his children, bouncing off the walls just like he does every day.

Though not so much anymore, heh. He’s still a childish person at heart, but his age is slowly getting to him, slowly beginning to chip away at his ability to be the flamboyant jujutsu sorcerer he used to be. He can feel the ache of time and age begin to take root in the bones of his body that had been so tempered.

In its place, however, took fatherhood, took a new and different kind of responsibility that he was more than excited for — days filled with new challenges, watching his kids grow as he smothers them with love.

His former students were more than capable of handling the load he used to. There’s plenty more of them nowadays than there is of him. With most of them all Special Grade sorcerers, too, he muses. Including you. But you don’t partake in missions like that, mostly being in the reserves of jujutsu society and using your reverse cursed energy like Shoko has.

Especially since becoming a mom.

Satoru sees the rainy day lulling you back to sleep. Being five-and-a-half months pregnant with twins, while also caring for three more while her husband was away would make any woman tired.

His offspring, however, were wide awake.

“Go upstairs and go to sleep,” Satoru says quietly. He sees the waves of fatigue hit every time you blink several times in one go. Your happy expression is getting harder to hold as you grow tired all over again, and Satoru thinks he’s going to have to carry you upstairs, fearing you falling.

But you, ever-stubborn, refuse. “I’m okaaay,” you reply, yawning into the words.

The white-haired man chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to bed,” he says, this time in a more commanding tone. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours with food ready.”

And when he makes that face, the cutesy one that also means he’s more than happy to carry you to bed, you don’t argue. He does, however, help you up off the couch and watches from the bottom of the stairs to make sure you lose balance and tip backwards. Satoru blows you a kiss, to which you chomp down at, mock-devouring his kisses. He gasps, fake offended, and it gets the giggle out of you he’s hoping for before you go into the bedroom.

Satoru’s heart swells with adoration and love. It overflows even more as he turns back to his two sons and his daughter. God, he almost wants to cry. What did he do to deserve such happiness in his life? After everything he’s done, that’s happened to him, when did the universe decide a beautiful wife and sweet, adorable children were in the cards for him?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s going to hold his family close to his heart and protect them until his last breath.

a/n: this got published at a completely random time lmao, where did this even come from? this’ll flop for sure but everyone who reads pls enjoy anyway

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.7 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warning: mentions of trauma, violence, abuse

See masterlist

All her life, she has been an outcast. After all, rumours spread fast when you live in a small place.

"She is cursed."

"No normal being has what she has."

"Stay away from her."

"Did you hear? She is not fae because of that."

All because of one traitor. All because she trusted the wrong 'friend' to tell and show it to.

It did not get better when the rumours reached him either.

She still has the burns on her legs from that night to prove that.

He was tying her onto the table. She was screaming, trying to fight him, pleading for whoever would listen, to come save her. No one came.

A slap across her right cheek.

"Shut your mouth! You have already embarassed me enough by having your deformity be the talk of every Illyrian camp to exist."

She was completely tied to the table. Her weak, bony, bruised arms and legs were secured to the edges with really tight and thick ropes.

"No! Let me go!"

That was when he took the heated metal, red-hot in appearance, and started to come closer to her.

He prepared for this. He was planning to do this to her all along because that iron did not get so hell-hot in a matter of seconds.

Maybe today was the day. Her end.

To her surprise, he applied it not to her chest, but to her legs. Nonstop, taking turns for each leg.

She tried. She really tried not to scream, not to give him the satisfaction of her pain but, how could she not? She was being burned for Cauldron's sake! She held out for a minute before succumbing into the pain.

She did not remember the rest because she passed out after who knows which burn.

She was 15.

So why her? Why was she the chosen one? Why should she close the gates? Was she not the cursed one? Why did The Book of Breathings send her here? What is her purpose?

So many questions. Seems like her plan to go home as soon as possible and leave them to deal with their own problems would have to be erased.

With a sigh, she looked up at the bright blue sky as she and Fenrys finally made it out of the warded area into the clearing.

Apparently, all this thinking has made her blind because the next thing she knows, y/n is colliding with a hard wall- no, muscle. She looked up to see that it was none other than Fenrys, holding her by her arms so she can balance her body once again. She was pressed to his body.

With an awkward move, she staggered back and tried to stop herself from blushing like a tomato. And from the amused smirk on Fenrys' face, she was doing a terrible job at keeping herself composed.

"I-...sorry,"

He let out a small chuckle as he came closer, "Let that be a lesson to not daydream while walking."

She scoffed and turned her face while crossing her arms, "I was NOT daydreaming."

She tried and failed to hide her sneaky smile.

He turned her around so that they were face to face as he said, "Hmmm sure, whatever you say. I can winnow us out of here now. Hopefully, this time you won't make a scene about it."

"I was NOT making a scene either, I was just- wait. Did you just say winnow? As in, the way we say it in Prythian?"

Fenrys simply shrugged before taking her hand and as the world around them began disapearing, all he said was, "Just a slip up. I will never say it again."

Y/n could not stop the smile that formed on her face.

When they arrived at the grand hall, the first thing y/n noticed was that her legs were sore after walking for so many days. Scratch that. Her whole body was sore. Sleeping on the ground does that to you. Damn those tall trees and their dense leaves, she couln't even fly! Going to bed right now and sleeping for a whole day or two did not sound like a bad plan at all.

The second thing she noticed was that Aedion's right arm was covered in bandages and hanging from a sling. How on earth did he manage to break his arm? Looks like they were not the only ones who had a tough journey.

And the third thing she noticed was a new face. Silver hair like moonlight highlighted a face so beautiful, y/n wondered if this woman was even real. Lips covered in a seductive red color that would make any being fall on their knees for her. When her eyes that were the color of burnt gold locked with y/n's gaze, the woman seemingly assesed her from head to toe. In turn, y/n did the same. She was wearing some kind of scale-embossed black, leather coat-dress with a silver chain around her torso, and a small, red fabric dangling from the chain. Her simple, black pants and knee high boots added an air of dominance to her overall look.

Was this Manon? Fenrys mentioned her name earlier but y/n was too distracted with the loud roars coming from that weird flying thing that she was almost not paying any attention.

"Shhh"

"Don't shush me!"

"This is getting a little too intense guys"

"No, it is getting exciting. Just look at the way they are coldly looking at one another! Fight, Fight, Fi-"

"Gods, Aedion stop that! Are you a child?!"

Y/n was pulled out of her haze as she looked around the room to see everyone looking between her and Manon. Apparently, they were too intense with their assessment of one another.

Manon, seemingly unfazed, just kept on staring at her face with cool indifference. So, y/n did the same. She was not about to look scared in front of this woman.

Aelin, clearly seeing the tension, came forward while clearing her throat.

"Y/n, this is Manon. Manon Blackbeak. She is The Queen of Witches and our bestest friend." she said jokingly as she tried side-hugging Manon, to which the woman scoffed and removed her arm while smirking slightly.

So she was a witch. The Queen of Witches. Oh, Nesta would have loved her.

"Manon dearest, this is the one and only Y/n. Anddd I would be glad if you could stop giving her death stares now. You too, y/n."

Y/n held her ground under Manon's penetrating gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. She could sense the power and confidence radiating from the Queen of Witches, and while it intimidated her, it also intrigued her.

"Manon Blackbeak," Y/n echoed, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "I've heard a lot about you."

Manon raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading slightly as she regarded Y/n with a calculating gaze.

"Have you now?" she replied, her tone neutral yet tinged with curiosity.

Aelin interjected with a nervous laugh, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "Yes, Y/n, Manon here is not just the Queen of Witches but also quite the force to be reckoned with."

Manon's lips quirked in amusement at Aelin's attempt at diplomacy, but she remained silent, her eyes still fixed on Y/n.

Y/n took a breath, deciding to address the tension head-on. "Look, I don't know what your impression of me is, but I'm here to help," she stated firmly, meeting Manon's gaze with determination. "Whatever it takes to close those gates and protect our worlds....aaaanddd finally get me to MY world."

Manon's expression softened for a quick second, a hint of respect gleaming in her eyes. "Words are easy." she remarked cryptically, her voice low but carrying an undertone of acknowledgment.

Rowan cleared his throat, attempting to diffuse the palpable atmosphere. "Yes, well, we're all on the same side here," he said diplomatically, giving a pointed look to both Y/n and Manon. "Let's focus on why we're all gathered. There's a lot at stake."

Manon's gaze lingered on Y/n for a moment longer before she finally broke the stare, her expression unreadable. "Agreed" she said simply, her voice carrying a tone of authority that resonated through the room.

Lysandra got up to her feet "Very well then! Who wants to go first?"

The second she saw Lorcan open his mouth, Lysandra put up her hand as she said, "Nevermind, we will go first."

There were a few chuckles and a full on cruel smirk from Manon directed right at the angry giant.

The green eyed female turned towards her husband and Elide as she said, "Dearest crew mates, shall we begin?"

Aedion was about to say something when she also shut him up "Do not. I am still pissed at you for what you did. Elide, sweetheart, will you do the honors?"

Aedion rolled his eyes as he scoffed and grumbled something under his breath which made Eva let out a wide eyed laugh.

Elide sat on one of the chairs surrounding the large table and sighed "Well, as much as Lysandra just added dramatics and made it seem like we discovered something beyond shocking, we only managed to find one thing that could help us."

"Hey! We needed to add some dramatics to make it seem bigger than it is. Or else they will be disappointed that we don't come with much information. I guess it is all ruined now anyway." Lysandra finished before jokingly sticking her tounge out at Elide.

"If I may-"

"No you may not Aedion."

"Lysandra, please, starlight."

"Fine! Do whatever you want. It is not like I was able to stop you before!"

Y/n, feeling the tension between them, murmured to the blond queen beside her, "What happened with those two?"

Aelin simply sighed and shook her head "If only we knew."

Aedion cleared his throat before adressing the room, "So, after a two day journey JUST to reach the Sanctuary, we were able to acquire a meeting with the head monk. Thanks to Elide's lovely acting and sweet talking. Once we met with the wrinkly, bony, ghost-"

"He was not that at all! Yes, he was quite ancient but so sweet! He even gave us sweet drinks." Elide said before casting a glare at the blond warrior.

Aedion continued, "Yes. Well, he was only sweet to you. I still did not get over the fact that he called my wife a half-beastie."

Lysandra scoffed "You should have let me deal with him on my own! There was no need to cause that fight!"

At that, Aelin interjected "What fight? What on earth are you talking about?"

Lysandra pointed a finger at Aedion before looking at her queen "Did you know, your cousin-"

"What is wrong with protecting my wife-"

"ENOUGH!"

To everyone's absolute shock, it was Elide who shouted that word and got up from her chair, striding to the center of the room with a determined look on her face.

"Look, we went, I charmed the old folks, they allowed us to go through their manuscripts and ancient whatever else. Of course, even my smooth-talk had its limits because we did not get a full access and there were monks and sages looking over our shoulders at any point."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "So, what we managed to find was that the gates are indeed weakened. Apparently, the barriers between realms are awakening. And guess what? The Valg are exploiting these vulnerabilities to gain access to not just our world, but to any world possible."

She then looked pointedly at Aedion and Lysandra "There was this one specific manuscript. Its cover looked very promising I was just about to take it and quickly go through it but..."

Rowan crossed his arms as he urged, "But...what?"

She sighed before looking at no one in particular "But, a specific shifter and a specific warrior ruined it all."

"Wait what-"

"I ruined nothing-"

"Why me-"

Manon's voice cut through the growing commotion, "You fought with a monk because he called Lysandra a half-beastie?"

Aedion got up to his feet, although y/n did see how he hissed a little due to the condition of his arm.

"No. I was beyond mad when the monk said that in the beginning of our little visit of course, but Lysandra somehow managed to calm me. It was not until these two were searching for information and I was in the hall, looking through the window. That cranky old bastard once again came near me and....and fucking dared to not only insult MY wife again, but also MY queen. Saying things how, 'now she remembers them', that Aelin is a 'spoiled brat' and whatever not. I could not take it no more."

Utter silence was in the room as y/n, seeing the state he got into, carefully asked, "And how exactly did you break your arm?"

He sighed before plopping down on the couch and looking her fiercely in the eyes. "The bastard managed to push me quite forcefully with his magic into a wall. I beat him up in the end of course, but he still managed to win this one from me." He paused as he pointed to his arm before looking at his wife and then, cousin "But I would do it all again if it meant that I could rip his head out this time. The females of my household will never be disrespected."

Rowan came forward and put his hand on Aedion's shoulder, a sign of respect and gratitude for protecting his mate's honor.

Aelin also came forward and sat next to her cousin, put her hand on his right shoulder, before continuing, "You should be more careful next time. I am grateful nonetheless cousin. Hopefully, those bony bastards will know their place from now on."

Before anyone could say anything, she cleared her throat and looked at her mate and Lorcan, "What about you two?"

The two warriors exchanged a look before Lorcan said in a voice so...not agressive or angry that y/n thought she must be hallucinating.

"Anyone who is standing might want to sit down for this one."

Rowan looked at his companion before nodding and then gazing at everyone else in the room.

"When we went to The Riftgate Ruins....while we were studying them, trying to understand anything about what was on them, we noticed that there were recent disturbances or traces of Valg magic that indicate current activity."

Lorcan came forward and continued the story on his brothers behalf, "Since I am, after all, the best and most skilled tracker that there is,"

Y/n nearly felt her eyeballs hit the back of her head because of how hard she was rolling them.

"Detecting Valg magic that leaves distinct residues and traces was not hard. Rowan and I found lingering traces of Valg essence or dark magic around the ruins, which clearly suggests recent Valg activity."

Y/n felt the room physically grow cold as the uncomfortable silence stretched on and on. Is it possible then? Are Valgs back?

Chaol, who was apparently standing by the doorway and listening, asked "But how? We killed them all during the war. Erawan is dead. Shouldn't their connection be severed?"

No one answered him. No one could answer him because no one had an answer to give.

Aelin, fear and determination evident in her gaze, said, "What if they are not all dead? But how would that be? Were they not connected to Erawan?"

Manon sighed before turning her head towards Chaol, "Yrene. Did she find something yet?"

Chaol came into the light and oh Mother above...did he even sleep? His hair was completely dishelved, there were bags under his eyes and why in the seven hells was he limping?

He said in a tired voice, "She is getting close. The language is clearly something she has never seen before so she is giving it her all. Give her some more time."

It was Lysandra who asked, "She won't let anyone into the room, is she atleast well? eating? sleeping? taking care?"

"Of course. My wife is my number one priority. I make sure that she is well."

Fenrys, who had not spoken until now, came closer and put a hand on the brown haired man as he said, "You need rest as well. We will take care of Yrene in whatever she needs. Do not forget what happens when one of you is not well. It affects the other."

What? Y/n made a mental note to ask Aelin on what on earth that meant.

Chaol nodded and got up as he said, "Yes, I will. For her well-being, I will. Just came to give you all the latest news. And apparently got shocking news in turn as well," a look directed at Rowan and Lorcan.

Aelin sighed, "Just go rest. You gave up much of your energy. You both did. We got it for now."

Once Chaol was gone, the queen looked at Eva, smiled sadly and said, "Thanks to Eva's precise book spotting and my exceptional page skimming skills, we managed to quickly find some interesting facts. The Book of Breathings contains ancient spells capable of containing the Valg. In fact, it has a specific text dedicated to sealing them. If this is true, it could only mean one thing, the Valgs already existed when that book was created."

It was Eva who came closer to y/n and looked up at her "But isn't that book in your world? How can we get it into this world?"

Y/n had no idea on what to say apart from, "The book was created using the last of the molten ore used to forge the Cauldron, I thought it only contained spells to control the Cauldron's powers. But if there is a specific area in it that is dedicated to the Valgs then it could mean that when it was created, the Vags attempted to endanger my world as well."

Lysandra put her face in her palms and muttered "This is getting worse by the minute."

Elide sighed as she turned her head towards Fenrys and said, "Please tell me you two atleast found something less....depressive."

Right. Y/n and Fenrys also had to tell about their findings. Great.

It wasn't until Fenrys came and stood near her that y/n realized how her heart was about to rip out of her chest. She was anxious and uncomfortable just by talking about what they found out.

All of a sudden, she felt this overwhelming amount of calm and soothing overtake her body. She turned her head to her right to see him standing right next to her now. She would never say it out loud but, y/n was glad that Fenrys was beside her during this revelation.

He seemingly understood her state because he cast her a quick glance before beginning to talk about their 'lovely' little journey.

Fenrys looked at everyone in the room as he recounted the events, from the appearence of the otherworldly seers to the revelations thrown upon them. Once he was done, the room went through another intensely extended period of silence as everyone processed his words.

Aelin had pure shock on her face while Rowan was just staring at the wall, his gaze unfocused, Lysandra tilted her head backwards and closed her eyes, Aedion stared at the ground, unmoving, Elide gasped before putting her hand on her mouth and looking at no one in particular, Lorcan had a frustrated look on his face directed at Fenrys, Eva was just looking up at y/n with wide eyes and Manon....well she was harder to understand but from the slight furrow in her brows y/n guessed that she was still analyzing Fenrys' words.

Y/n cleared her throat and came a little forward "Well, it seems like I can not go home until we solve your problem."

Aedion, still staring at the ground, replied "It may also become your world's problem if we do not put an end to this quickly."

Before y/n could reply, Rowan said to no one in particular "We need a properly constructed plan" before seemingly coming back from his haze and immediately leaving the room followed by a confused yet determined Lorcan.

Y/n saw how everyone, especially Aelin was still processing the information so, she said with a sigh, "I am going to rest. I do not think my mind is able to form any coherent thoughts right now." without looking back or waiting for an answer, she turned around and ascended the grand stairs.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was all the time she could sleep for- or atleast force herself to sleep for. Her body was begging her earlier for some good sleep and food but now, as she lay in bed, she was neither hungry nor sleepy. After staring at the ceiling for the past thirty minutes, y/n huffed before getting up and going to change into a more comfortable attire.

Once she discarded her turtleneck, y/n gently touched her throat, pleasantly surprised by how effective Isolde's salve had been on her injury. The mark that had once marred her skin was now barely noticeable, a testament to the healing properties of the salve. With a contented sigh, she planned to apply it once more later, confident that it would soon vanish completely.

Choosing a clean white turtleneck from her wardrobe, y/n slipped it on, followed by dark brown pants and boots.

Once she was ready, y/n stepped onto the balcony, the serene evening view stretching out before her. With a deep breath, she leapt into the air, feeling weightless and free as she soared above the grounds, her mind momentarily liberated from the concern's coming their way. Where she was going, y/n neither had no idea nor did she care as her wings flapped and she felt a sense of happiness and relaxation fall over her.

Fenrys was tired. Exhausted even. There was so much happening that he could barely keep up. He trusted Rowan to make a proper action plan without his help because if he had to stand for another minute, he would end up falling asleep and kissing the ground.

But, after what happened between him and y/n in the woods, Fenrys also had another question bugging his mind. Who hurt her?

He knew that he shouldn't care. That she meant absolutely nothing to him and therefore, he should let her handle her own problems. In fact, he should be delighted that someone caused her discomfort here, made her realize she is not safe in this world. It should have brought him great satisfaction when he pictured her scared face.

But all it brought to him was an overflow of anger and violence. Something within him forced Fenrys to turn violent whenever he thought of her in danger. He will find whoever caused her that mark. And when he does....let the nonexistent Gods have mercy on them because Fenrys for sure won't.

But first, sleep. Just as he was walking the halls to get to his room, he saw her, flying high in the sky, looking so ethereal-

No. Don't be stupid.

He ignored her, continuing on his path. Just go to your room and rest Fenrys. Yes. You don't need to care for her. Or follow her.

5 minutes later, he was outside getting ready to shift into a wolf and....follow her. Whatever this feeling within him was, it was as if he was being tugged or pulled to go wherever she goes.

In his defense, Fenrys tried to reason with himself that he was doing this for safety. What if she was a spy? Maybe she was going somewhere to meet with her accomplice? He was doing it for his queen. For his country. For his family.

But even as Fenrys shifted and began his way into the woods, he knew what a lie it was. He has no reason to still see her as a suspect because even the seers confirmed her innocence. And value to the book apparently.

After what seemed like twenty minutes, he found her, sitting on a medium sized boulder, overlooking the grassy views of Orynth.

He slowly approached her. Like a beast sizing its prey. If he jumped her now, she wouldn't even have time to react before he ripped her throat. But for some reason, even thinking of such a scenario left a sour taste in his mouth.

Apparently she knew he was here because without even turning around, her honey-like voice said, "Seems like you have this severe obsession with hunting and catching me."

She knew it was him without even having to look back. It made no sense how she would always recognize Fenrys out of a thousand others. So, as the giant white wolf shifted beside her into the familiar male, y/n felt a mixture of excitement and curiosity. The transformation from wolf to man was seamless, a testament to Fenrys' mastery over his shapeshifting abilities.

He wordlessly came and sat beside her on the boulder, leaving a respectful distance between them even though just last night they slept in each others arms. It looks like he won't bring that conversation up anytime soon. She won't either.

So, y/n, still not looking at the male beside her, asked, "Where do your people live? Looks like the forests here are very large."

Fenrys who was apparently also preferring to look towards the view instead of her, replied, "These are the palace grounds. I know, they are quite big but the people live just outside this forest. There are towns and villages. Aelin's subjects love her very much."

Y/n smiled a little "Seems like she is a good queen then."

At that, Fenrys also smiled "Yes. The best."

After a minute of silence, he asked "How....how is your life back in your world?"

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. Fenrys was asking her a question and not throwing another snark remark? Was he being civil with her right now? It surely must be raining rocks.

He should not have asked her this. What even made him ask her this? Why are you entertaining the idea of her? Get up and leave. Now.

But he did not move. Not even a single inch as he watched her turn her head and look at him for the first time since he arrived here. And....what a sight for sore eyes she was.

The sunset was casting a natural glow over her features as she angled her head towards him and those kissable lips began moving- enough.

"My life....well I have um....gone through many different moments in my life- well, I can tell you about my years serving in the Night Court?"

Why was she hesitating to talk about her life? Some uneasy feeling settled over him but he ignored it as he nodded his head slightly, urging for her to continue.

Y/n took a deep breath before looking back at the view "When I met my High Lord, I was a trainer-of sorts for my own academy. Anyways, he and I had some...common beliefs regarding well-"

"Regarding?"

She sighed "Illyrians. Females like me, coming from the Illyrian mountains. That place is....not a kind one. Towards females, I mean. The males there are so traditional, sticking to the old rules where the only job of a female was to cook, clean and work as some kind of a breeding machine. There is this tradition that when we become old enough...female wings should be clipped."

He felt nauseous. How could a place like that exist? How could- wait. Did that mean..."Did they treat you like that? Did they try to clip your wings too?" even saying these words made him see red.

She was clearly uncomfortable now. Her face suddenly became shiny with a thin layer of sweat as she started fiddling with her fingers and looking everywhere but at him.

Something is wrong.

"Y/n-"

"Velaris is a very beautiful place to live in. Rhysand, my ex High Lord, and his ancestors kept that city a secret for a long time. Protecting it from our enemies."

She was avoiding him but it was alright, he would not press on the matter. After all, he would also avoid it if she were to ask him about his past. About what Maeve would force him to do, about his years as her slave- No. Don't go there. Just listen to her soothing voice.

Why was she even telling him these things? Apparently she was greatly missing home and needed someone to vent to.

"Rhysand introduced me to his family who later on also became my family. Cas or well...Cassian, Amren, Mor and...Az."

She felt him slightly stiffen beside her as he asked, "Who?"

Y/n cleared her throat "Azriel. He um...he-I....we were....acquinted."

She saw Fenrys put his arms on his legs and clench his hands slightly as he asked, "Mate?"

Her heart sank. She hates that word. Despises it. Especially the memories it brings up about Azriel.

Clearly, her frustration got the best of her because she snapped, "Not a mate."

Did his shoulders just relax? Why was he mad at her?

"Then...what?"

With a sigh, she tilted her head backwards and looked at the sky "We...we were lovers. 52 years. We were happy and in love or atleast I thought that but clearly I was wrong because this whole time he took me for a fool and played with my feelings."

She was on her feet now, pacing around, fuming to herself "I was such a fool, you know. I thought we were mates, that the bond would snap at any moment. That we were destined to be together. In the end, he found his mate, cheated on me with her for two whole fucking years, confessed how he never loved me, how he only saw me as a placeholder for her, and how my so called 'family' knew of this the whole fucking time!"

She saw nothing, her heart was racing, her vision blurry as she continued, "Feyre, long story short, she was a human once then became a high fae. When Rhys first introduced her to us, I was the one who constantly kept her company, I was the one who ensured her well-being, her proper transition to her new life. I taught her how to improve her shooting skills before the war against Hybern. I was loyal to my High Lady. I would follow her to the ends of the earth."

She let out a cruel, mocking laugh before continuing, "Then came Nesta and Elain. Feyre's two sisters. The King of Hybern threw them inside the Cauldron and turned them into high fae against their own will! And guess what? It was me again who took care of both of them. Especially Nesta because she was so misunderstood. I was the one who stood by her side through thick and thin. I was the one to join her little training session's as a sign of support. That was where I met Gwyn. The cause for my downfall. I was the one who talked sense into Cassian about being a proper mate towards Nesta. I-"

Her words were stuck in her throat. She wanted to cry. No. She won't.

"I...trusted them Fenrys. All of them. Mor and Amren, they were like sisters to me. We fought back to back on battlefields together for Cauldron's sake!"

She suddenly turned around and looked at him but did not see anything as her memories took over her "Do you know what I was doing right before I came here? I found out that the male whom I loved for so long was unfaithful to me for 2 years! 2 years, can you imagine?! And everyone fucking knew. Everyone. I was there for them when they were at their lowest but no one ever was there for me when I started descending into darkness all because Azriel was a little coward! But I was an idiot. Of course they would defend him. Protect him."

It felt good. So good to finally let your emotions out. To let your anger out.

But she could not breathe. She fell on her knees. Her mind was being bombarded with memories, her vision was getting more and more blurry, she was-

Y/n suddenly felt her body being pressed to a solid chest. She looked up to see Fenrys on the ground, holding her tightly to him while a mixture of anger, concern, frustration and pain was written all over his face.

His hands gently smoothed her hair as she laid her head on his chest, hearing his beating heart, "Shhhh, calm down now princess. It is in the past now."

She pressed her face further into his clothing as she murmured, "That doesn't make it any less hurtful."

She felt him sigh, "No, it doesn't."

His voice was so distant now. Y/n moved her head away from his chest to take a better look at his face and...yes he was definitely somewhere far off now, staring into the sunset with a mournful expression.

She quietly asked "What about you? What is your story Fenrys?"

He slowly looked back at her "It is a long one."

Her hand moved before she could even think, finding its place on his cheek. A look of surprise passed over his features as his gaze landed on hers. She smiled slightly, "I am willing to listen."

He gave a weak smile back, "You didn't tell me your full story now, did you?"

She sighed and looked down while closing her eyes, "No. I did not."

The next thing she knew, he put his thumb on her chin, followed by his index finger under her chin, and lifted her head up.

They were so close now, his breath was hitting her face. She could count the freckles on his face. Oh how otherworldy beautiful this male was.

Fenrys' gaze fell onto her lips as he quietly said, "Then we shall talk of our lives some other time."

She gave him a slight nod. Did she? y/n could not even remember because her gaze was locked on his as they started inching closer and closer, their lips about to-

A loud rumble shook the whole place as they were both ripped back from their haze and immediately got up.

Y/n turned around quickly so that he wouldn't see her embarassingly red blush that was beggining to form on her face.

"I-um...thank you...for letting me talk my nonsense."

She felt his hand on her arms as Fenrys turned her around. He had a very serious look on his face as he said, "Do not apologize. You did not talk 'nonsense' you let your feelings out."

Before y/n could reply, there was that loud growl again. Fenrys chuckled "Seems like Abraxos is not happy right now."

Right. Abraxos. That giant beast thing.

"I don't understand how you guys have such giant beast thingies-"

Fenrys let out a full laugh at that and for some reason, y/n wanted to engrave that sound in her memory for ever. Because he is always an arrogant prick who does not know what fun means, she kept telling herself.

"Wyverns, they are called Wyverns. Did you see him yet?"

"What?! No, of course not."

"Then let's go."

"Fenrys wai-"

But Fenrys took her hand and they were gone. The next thing she knew, she was in the middle of the palace grounds and there was this large beast thingie- Wyvern in front of her.

Manon was also here together with Eva and Lysandra as the young girl tried petting it.

As they got closer, she could hear Manon saying, "How many times have I told you to not eat the flowers in the royal gardens?! Just eat the flowers here, you know Aelin and how pissed she gets about her sweet little royal flowers, just avoid me the headache and eat the flowers on this side of the land, you stubborn brute!"

Abraxos only snarled back as Eva and Lysandra laughed loudly.

Eva was the first one to notice them as she ran towards y/n and took her hand, dragging her towards Abraxos.

"Y/n! meet Abraxos, he may look scary but he is the sweetest little creature everrr!"

As she came near it, y/n let out a little uncomfortable chuckle, "Doesn't really seem like a sweet little innocent creature to me."

Lysandra put her hand on y/n's shoulder and smirked "Well, he is the weirdest that's for sure. Unlike other Wyverns who eat humans and whatever living being they can get their teeth on, this fellow over here eats...flowers."

She heard Fenrys chuckle behind her as Manon scoffed.

Before anyone could say anything, Abraxos moved towards her with surprising gentleness, his massive wings folded back in a display of docility. His scales shimmered in the final few rays of light coming from the sunset, reflecting hues of deep blues and black that glinted like polished gemstones.

Y/n stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to retreat or stand her ground. Abraxos approached cautiously, his large eyes fixed on her with an almost curious gaze. She could feel the warmth of his breath as he sniffed the air around her, his demeanor unexpectedly gentle despite his imposing size.

Eva beamed beside her, her enthusiasm undimmed. "See? He likes you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with delight.

Y/N managed a nervous smile, tentatively reaching out a hand to stroke Abraxos' scaled muzzle. To her surprise, he leaned into her touch, emitting a low rumble that sounded almost like contentment.

"He's... actually quite sweet," y/n admitted, her initial apprehension melting away in the presence of the gentle giant before her.

Manon crossed her arms, a begrudging smile playing on her lips. "Don't let him fool you," she warned, though her tone held a hint of fondness. "He's a soft spot for anyone who shows him kindness."

Lysandra chuckled softly. "Well, you've won him over, y/n. Not many can claim that honor."

Fenrys stepped forward, his usual guarded expression softening as he watched the scene unfold. "Abraxos has a way of surprising us all," he remarked, a note of respect in his voice.

She felt the world around them fade away as if it was just her and this beast who was starting to warm its way to her heart. How is this even possible?

A servant came running towards them as she said, "Dinner is ready your majesty and....ladies and...lord Fenrys...." The poor girl squeled and ran away the second Abraxos moved and everyone let out a chuckle, especially Fenrys who said while shaking his head, "Still can't understand why they don't call me by my name when I am not even a lord."

Lysandra and Eva began going towards the palace as the former said while still smiling, "Well it sure is hilarious to watch them stumble over their words when they are in your presence."

Fenrys smirked and moved towards the palace but stopped when he saw y/n still petting Abraxos.

"Aren't you coming?"

"You go. I will join you in a minute."

He smiled slightly but turned around and walked after Lysandra and Eva.

"You know that Eva has a crush on you right?"

Y/n was startled by Manon's voice. She was leaning against her Wyvern's side, arms crossed, watching y/n like a hawk. Seems like The Queen of Witches also hadn't left yet.

"What? No, of course she doesn't"

Manon looked towards the palace as she said, "The girl literally has hearts in her eyes whenever she looks at you. Clings to you like a koala bear. Besides, I heard her telling Lysandra how she can't wait to grow up and confess her 'undying love' for you. Poor child."

The silver haired witch looked back at her. Y/n let out a laugh that was soon joined by a small smirk on Manon's face.

"Well then, I guess I will have to wait for the next 5 years for her to come of age and confess her love to me. Pity that I am over a hundred years older than her." y/n said jokingly while still chuckling.

Suddenly, she let out a low hiss as her hand got pricked by one of the sharp, small scales on Abraxos, causing her blood to trickle down her palm.

No, not here. Please. Not now.

She had to hide her curse. Her lifelong secret. Her lifelong doom.

Manon can not see-

A gasp came from beside her as The Queen of Witches took her hand and inspected it. After what felt like an eternity, Manon raised her head, eyes slightly widened as she said,

"Your blood is blue. You are an Ironteeth Witch."

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

A/n: Sooo y/n's secret is out now. Wonder what will happen next;)) Thank you all for reading!

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[serpentandlily]

Untouchable Part IX Teaser

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Azriel growled at his High Lord. “I’m leaving. Now.”

Both Azriel and Rhysand looked worse for wear. Rhys’s face was littered with bruises and cuts and Azriel was sure he looked no better. But he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was that his mate was in the hands of that fucking sorcerer and he was going to rip that male apart limb by limb for ever thinking he could take her.

“We need to think this through, Az,” Feyre pleaded. “If you rush in, you’ll end up dead and be of no help to Y/n.”

Azriel’s hands tightened into fists. These past two days had been hell. Once Rhys had misted the Prince in the clearing, he had winnowed the three of them back to Velaris—to start planning their rescue mission.

He hadn’t even gotten two words out before Azriel pounced on him. He could barely remember those first few hours after she had been taken. All he knew was the anger he felt—the rage. The mating bond snapping into place. The bargain breaking. And her…his love being taken away from him, his heart and soul with her. 

And Rhys, the fucking asshole, had been at the center of his anger. For making him agree to that bargain with him in the first place. For making him stay away from her—his mate.

It had taken Cassian, Mor and Feyre to pull them apart that day. 

He had stopped starting fights with Rhys but his anger still pulsed under his skin, ready to strike at a moment's notice. 

"We've had plenty of time to think,” Azriel snapped at his High Lady, causing Rhys’s head to shoot up with a warning glare. 

“Watch your tone,” Rhys bit back at him.

“Fuck you, Rhys!” Azriel slammed his scarred hands down on the desk between them. “I’m going and I swear to the Gods if you try to stop me, I’ll rip your throat out!” 

“No, fuck you, Azriel!” Rhys yelled, standing up to his full height. “Stop acting as if you’re the only one affected by this! She was my sister long before she was your mate! Maybe if you hadn’t gone behind my back—” 

“Maybe if you hadn’t made us make that stupid bargain with you in the first place, we would’ve never had to! I could’ve had centuries with her. You stole all those years from us!” 

The second the bond snapped between him and his mate, Azriel swore he lived a whole lifetime. A whole lifetime they hadn’t been afforded. It had all flashed right before his eyes. His mate…His beautiful mate. She deserved so much better than this and as soon as he got her back in his arms, he would give her the whole world. He'd tear the sun from the sky if it would make her happy. 

“Guys, stop! This fighting between the two of you has only made things worse! Fight all you want once we get Y/n back, but you need to focus. Both of you. For her sake,” Feyre snapped.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair, letting out a noise of frustration. His shadows swarmed around him like a monsoon—screaming his mate’s name over and over again in agony. “You don’t understand, Feyre. Every single time I feel her…during those tiny moments she slips through to the bond…all I feel is her pain. He’s torturing her. How am I supposed to sit here while my mate is being tortured?” 

He turned away from them, unable to look at Rhys any longer as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. He had completely and utterly failed his mate. Had let her get into the arms of an enemy. This was all his fault…all of it. She would’ve never even ran away from Velaris if he had never tried to move on with Elain last year. He put those thoughts in her head and there was nothing he regretted more in his life. He had never wanted Elain. He had never even wanted Mor. He had tried, when he thought Rhys’s sister was off limits, to move on. But he had never, ever stopped loving her. He had never felt anything for anyone other than her. 

And she had been ripped away from him before they could even have a life together. 

“That’s it,” Rhys whispered from behind him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“What?” Azriel snarled, whipping around. 

“You said you can feel her sometimes—through the bond, right?”

Azriel nodded his head, crossing his arms. 

Rhys stroked his jaw in thought. “He must be drugging her with faebane. But not consistently. There must be small moments when it wears off before he gives her another dose. That’s why you can feel her sometimes.” 

“Where are you going with this?” Feyre asked.

“We can use the mating bond to tell us when to act,” Rhys explained. “When Azriel can feel her, we know her magic is regenerating. We should stop looking at this as battle and more like a stealth mission. We bait Koschei into coming to the water’s edge the moment Azriel feels my sister down the bond—act like we are declaring war. Keep him distracted long enough for her to get back most of her power. Meanwhile, Azriel can slip into the cabin, release her from whatever binds he has her in and get her out.” 

“What about the wards around the cabin? No one can winnow in or out. Even Az’s shadows might set it off.”

“I’ll have to get inside without using any magic,” Azriel said. “I can do it. I can get to her. As long as you keep him distracted and buy me enough time.” 

“Helion has given Y/n some lessons on setting and breaking wards,” Rhys added. “Once she sees you, once she realizes she’s being saved, she can start working on breaking them so she can winnow the two of you out.” 

“And you trust that she’ll be able to do that?” Feyre asked. 

Rhys let out a long sigh. Azriel knew how much it would pain him to have to force his sister to save herself. Rhys had always been the one doing the heavy lifting for their family, always keeping his sister as protected as he could, especially after she almost died. But he couldn’t save her this time. 

He’d need to have faith in her.

“She can do it,” Azriel declared, full of confidence in his mate’s abilities. “She is not that little girl in the woods anymore, Rhys. You’ve trained her. I’ve trained her. She is more than capable of this.”

“I know she’s not,” Rhys whispered. “She hasn’t been. Not for a long time. And I’m sorry, Azriel, I truly am. You’re right. I should’ve never forced you to make that bargain.”

“Save your apology for when I get my mate back,” Azriel spat out.