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prythianpages · 2 months ago

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A Light That Never Goes Out | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's sister (reader) | The aftermath of Azriel kissing you in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares.

warnings: angry Rhys, angry High Lord, brief mention of Tamsand, mating bond snapping

word count: roughly 3K, around 3.5K if you read the bonus scene

a/n: This is a part two to this but can be read as a stand alone. I had fun writing this but I worry this sounded better in my head. I was tempted to turn this into a crack fic bc of this trending tiktok sound.

Azriel kisses you, consequences be damned. His hand slides from yours to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer. You kiss him back with the same intensity, years of longing and love pouring into this single moment. Your mind and thoughts tangling with his, the bond between you surging with emotion. Desire and hope. He’s still in disbelief that tonight was the first night he told you he loved you.

But in truth, Azriel had been telling you all along—in every glance, every touch, every kiss that held more than words ever could.

Azriel’s shadows recoil as the two of you pull apart, breathless. The Court of Nightmares had faded away, the two of you lost in each other. It’s just you and him, as it is meant to be…Until the distinctive footsteps of your father approaching echoes throughout the ballroom. Your eyes are wide, too many emotions swirling within their depths.

But Azriel is relieved that regret is not one of them.

“Azriel.”

The High Lord’s voice is calm and collected but the fury flickering in his violet eyes is unmistakable. He stands no more than two feet away, the authority radiating from him as cold as it is absolute. Beside him, Rhysand watches, his expression unreadable.

Your father lifts a hand, wisps of darkness and starlight spilling from his fingertips. The orchestra resumes under the silent command and driven by some invisible force, the guests resume dancing and drinking. As if nothing had happened.

“Come with me,” your father says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His command is directed solely at Azriel. “I’d like to have a word.”

You try to hold on to Azriel, to keep him close, but he slips his fingers from yours, bowing his head in quiet submission to your father. Without another word, he follows after him. And though his command had been directed solely at Azriel, the weight of the situation falls on the both of you.

So you step forward, determined to follow after them. But just as you step outside the ballroom, Rhysand grasps your arm, forcing you to a stop.

“You stupid, foolish…,” his voice trails off in frustration. “What have you done?”

You spin on him, eyes flashing with anger as you yank your arm out of his hold. “What have I done? What about what have you done? Planning marriage alliances behind my back? Like I’m some pawn on your chessboard?”

Rhysand’s gaze softens for a brief moment. “Y/n, I–”

“No.” You interrupt sharply, starlight beginning to swirl from the fingertip you point at him. You don’t want to hear his excuse, whatever justification he thinks will make this right. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassian and Mor making their way toward you, slipping through the dancing couples and out of the ballroom.

The starlight seeping from your fingertip glows brighter, ready and poised to attack. However, it’s your words you speak into his mind that make the blow instead.

“You know, if you love that runt from Spring so much, why don’t you marry him yourself?”

Rhysand’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing as the meaning of your words hit him. The revelation that you know his secret. Where he’d sneak off to some nights. Why the scent of crisp rain and earth lingered on him when he’d return. You and Azriel had pieced it together after Cassian had mentioned that his book on Illyrian training and methods suddenly went missing. Given your secret, you and Azriel had kept that information to yourselves, waiting for the moment Rhysand would feel comfortable to tell you himself.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure, for his gaze to harden again. His lips curl into a snarl–a warning. “Y/n.”

He leans in forward but you take a step back and winnow away, only one thing on your mind. Finding Azriel.

The walk to the High Lord’s private office in the Court of Nightmares is silent but the sense of foreboding is nearly deafening. Azriel is tense, his shadows quiet and burrowing into his leathers. Too many possibilities and consequences storm through his mind, each one more damning than the last.

Does he regret kissing you in front of everyone? No.

That kiss was the first honest, uninhibited thing he’d allowed himself to do in years. It was freeing, exhilarating to be able to show everyone, especially the sons of Spring and Autumn that you were his and he was yours. He could face death for this—for touching the High Lord’s daughter. For kissing you so openly, so brazenly, in front of the entire court.

But why? Why should it be so wrong for him to love you? Because of his birth? The scars of his past that marked him as unworthy? He’s served loyally. Bled for this court.Tortured for this court.

He’s watched from the shadows as lords and sons, full of false charm, have circled you like vultures, eyeing you as nothing more than a prize to be claimed. And yet, when he—who knows you, who cherishes you—shows his love, it is considered a crime.

It isn’t fair. But Azriel has never been afforded fairness.

The heavy doors to the High Lord's office swing open with a wave of his hand, and Azriel steps inside. The air is thick with tension, and every muscle in his body tightens. The High Lord gestures for him to sit, but Azriel bows his head, respectfully declining. Standing feels safer. Less vulnerable. He wonders if his refusal will anger the High Lord further, but the single shadow curling at his ear reports no rising fury.

He can feel the weight of the High Lord’s gaze—it’s heavy, scrutinizing, like the cold press of a blade against his skin. He keeps his eyes forward, even though his heart pounds in his chest. If there’s punishment to be had, Azriel will accept it.

The High Lord moves to his desk, positioned beneath an oculus, where moonlight spills through and dances across his features. He gazes up at the starlit sky as if searching for answers—or perhaps, waiting.

“Normally, this is the part where people like you should be begging for forgiveness, for a way to rectify your mistake.”

Azriel’s jaw tightens. “I haven’t made a mistake.”

“No?” The High Lord’s gaze snaps back to him, piercing as if he could peel away Azriel’s very skin to lay bare his soul. Azriel wonders, for a brief moment, if your daemati powers had been inherited from your father. Could the High Lord see into his mind, his thoughts? Have kept this power to himself all these years as a secret weapon?

“You sound so sure of yourself,” the High Lord continues, his tone sharpening. “Tell me, how long has this... affair been going on?”

“For decades.” Azriel admits, knowing that there was no use in lying. The truth was already written in the way he kissed you, in the way he looked at you as you broke away from the kiss.

“For decades?” The High Lord repeats, his expression darkening, violet eyes narrowing. “You took my daughter’s first dance tonight of all nights.”

Azriel’s silence says everything. Both of them aware that Azriel had taken more than dances, more than a kiss.

“You’ve taken her innocence. You’ve ruined her…” The High Lord continues to seethe in that cool, unnerving tone.

Azriel’s fingers twitch at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for his dagger. Not to defend himself, but because it’s his only comfort in moments like these.

But this is not a battle to be fought with daggers or swords. This is a battle of love, of politics, of status. One he’s had no training for yet one he’s willing to fight. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fight against all odds.

“Whether she marries Spring or Autumn, she will become a lady of the highest esteem and forge a strong alliance with my court. Laden with all the riches and wonders only a High Lord can offer. What can you offer? You don’t even have a proper last name to give her, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel swallows thickly, the weight and shame of his low-born status crashing into him like the violent current of Illyria’s river. It feels like he’s sinking under it, drowning in it. He knows he can’t offer you what any son of Spring or Autumn could. He had reminded you of that—again and again.

It’s as if you can feel his doubts creeping back in, the poison of guilt and worthlessness seeping in. Your presence—soft, warm, and steady—enters his mind. You bring forth the memory you had shared with him moments ago on the dance floor again.

“I can’t give you much,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering just over your own. “But I can give you everything I have.”

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you had replied, the words echoing now in his mind, like an antidote to the venom of doubt. That’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all—

“I asked you a question, Azriel.” The High Lord’s sharp voice cut through the memory, yanking him back to the cold, oppressive reality of the Court of Nightmares. “What can you offer in exchange for my daughter?”

Azriel’s knees buckle beneath him before he even realizes it. He drops to the floor, bowing his head low. His shadows stir, swirling around him in a frenzy, urging him to stand. To stop him.

“My life.”

“Your life,” The High Lord muses. He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “You love my daughter enough to give your life for her?”

“Yes,” Azriel says, his voice firm and steady, even as his shadows coil tighter around his arms, trying to pull him back from this path. But he stays rooted to the floor. His life, his soul—it all belongs to you anyway. What was it worth, if not to protect you? To be yours?

The High Lord’s eyes narrow as he studies the swirling shadows, dark and restless, wrapping themselves around Azriel’s form. Shadowsingers are rare. Their power is precious. They can see and hear things others can’t. The only known living one kneels before him now.

Despite his low born status, the Shadowsinger had also proved himself a formidable, Illyrian warrior. A Carynthian. It’s why he appointed Azriel as the Night Court’s spymaster.

And now this powerful and strong male is offering his life.

To have a Shadowsinger as his spymaster is rare, a gift in itself. To have Azriel’s loyalty, his strength, his skills bound by magic for life. A weapon of mass destruction, at his beck and call. No room for betrayal, no worry over him leaving his court for another.

All in exchange for your hand in marriage?

Now, that sounds like a deal.

He lets out a thoughtful hum, voicing his consideration. He could give Azriel a title, raise him from his bastard status. At his will, darkness begins to rise from the floor. The power of the bargain hovers in the air between them, ready to etch itself into both their skins.

Azriel finally lifts his head, meeting the High Lord’s eyes with no fear. Only the light of determination. He is willing to give his life to your father if that’s what it takes to be by your side.

The cloud of darkness begins to separate, its dark tendrils moving toward him, the binding magic poised to seal his fate, to chain him to this bargain for the rest of his life.

But before it can touch his skin, before the deal can be made, a bright light erupts in the room. A sharp hiss escapes the darkness as it recoils, retreating back into the shadows where it had come from. Azriel’s own shadows seem to shudder in relief.

Both Azriel and the High Lord’s heads snap toward the source of the light. You stand at the doors, your eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, your hands glowing with pure, raging starlight.

“No!” you cry, the word trembling on your lips as you step forward, the glow around you growing even brighter.

Your eyes lock with Azriel’s and something tightens in his chest, crawling up his rib cage. It’s sharp and breathtaking. His hand grabs at his chest and yours does the same.

”He will not be your slave,” you say, turning to your father with the same determination flashing in your eyes. “There has to be another way.”

The High Lord’s features morph into a scowl. “Another way? My star, he is a bastard—”

“I love him!”

That tightening in his chest finally snaps and Azriel’s breath catches. He feels that light in your eyes, perfectly reflecting the one in his. It sears into his soul, as fierce and unrelenting as the starlight glowing from your hands.

Your father doesn’t notice the shift in the air, the change in Azriel’s posture, in his chest. Or in yours.

“You think that means anything?”

Azriel’s shadows whisper a warning into his ears, of an oncoming raging darkness. Different but similar to the High Lord’s. He barely hears his shadows, too focused on you, on the bond thrumming between you. His mind is consumed with you.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

“You and mother—” you begin.

“Do you think your mother and I love each other?” The High Lord interrupts sharply, his voice cold and cutting. He breaks out into a laugh.

Azriel snaps out of his trance. Anger flares within him at the shock, the devastation that takes over your features. He watches as you shrink back slightly, his instincts roaring to protect you from any harm, whether verbal or otherwise.

Because he’s your mate. Because he loves you.

“You think I would marry your mother, a low born seamstress by choice? What your mother and I have is different. It’s complicated. A special bond. One that gave me Rhysand and you and–”

A sound like thunder crashes through the room, reverberating off the stone walls as darkness swells in every corner. One moment, Azriel is on his knees. The next, he’s slamming into the cold marble floor, the force of Rhysand’s power pinning him down. Tendrils of Rhysand’s darkness coil around Azriel’s form, fighting with the shadows that instinctively rise to defend him.

“How long?” Rhysand's violet eyes blaze as they burn into Azriel.

“And I am beginning to think you both are nuisances to my existence rather than gifts...” The High Lord mutters followed by an exhausted sigh.

“How long have you been fucking my sister?” His words are a snarl as he slams Azriel harder into the floor, advancing toward him with clenched fists.

“Rhysand!” You let out a cry, rushing to the two males to separate them.

Your brother whips around, his anger igniting into something fiercer at the sight of you. “Stay out of this!” he snaps, his hand raising. He’s too angry, too heated. So much that he doesn't even notice the force of darkness he aims your way.

Rhysand’s magic hits you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked gasp escapes as you stumble backward, struggling to keep your footing. A burst of bright sapphire explodes from each of Azriel’s siphons, a deep and low growl rumbling from his chest. He breaks free from Rhysand’s magic, standing to his feet. His wings flare behind him, shadows swirling like a storm.

The look in his hazel eyes is nothing short of feral, dark and ancient, a fierce and possessive glint that makes Rhysand falter and surprise flash across the High Lord’s features.

You fall to the ground with a thud, palms scraping against the stone and pain flaring in your hands. Rhysand turns toward you, the anger that had been simmering in his violet gaze immediately dissolving into guilt and regret. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t touch her.” Azriel growls, standing in between you and your brother, his shadows forming in an additional protective barrier. Some shadows flutter toward you, helping you stand and bringing you to Azriel’s side. Your hand instinctively seeks Azriel’s, fingers curling into his and you squeeze it, letting him know you’re alright.

“By the Cauldron…” the High Lord’s voice comes out in a low murmur, his gaze darting between you and Azriel. His eyes narrow as he finally notices the subtle shift in the air, in your scents. The scent of a bond.

“You two are mates,” he says, tone laced with resignation. Because even he, a High Lord, is not above going against The Cauldron.

It feels like a punch to the gut for Rhysand. His best friend and his sister. Fate’s inevitable design had been right under his nose all along. “What?” Rhysand breathes in shock, chest still heaving from the exertion of his magic.

Azriel’s hand tightens around yours. His gaze softens as he turns to you, the fierce protectiveness from earlier easing into something gentler. And when your eyes meet again, it’s there—the unmistakable light of the mating bond. It shines bright and steady between you. Just like your love for each other does.

A light that never goes out.

bonus scene

Once the shock of the bond had worn off, the High Lord excused himself, muttering about damage control. “Spring will be the hardest to deal with,” he had said.

Rhysand’s body tensed as his eyes found yours. But you’d only given him a small, reassuring smile. Though it is something you would like to talk about, his secret would remain safe with you.

Your father would soon announce the bond to the Court of Nightmares, already making plans for a grand mating ceremony. You’d much rather have something private, intimate. But a public celebration seemed like a small price to pay for the lifetime you’d get to spend beside the male you loved.

Rhysand turned his gaze back to Azriel, his expression still unreadable. “You never answered my question,” he said, voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long?”

Azriel hesitated before answering, unlike the way he had with the High Lord. This was his best friend standing in front of him. The one he grew up and trained along with, survived the brutality of the Blood Rite with. Rhysand was like a brother to him and he went behind his back for years.

“A decade.”

“A decade?” Rhysand blinks in surprise.

A whole decade of secrecy. Of Azriel sneaking around with his little sister. It all made sense now. Why Azriel became more reserved, more private. Why Azriel no longer indulged himself with the pleasures of the females at Rita’s or the Illyrian camps like he and Cassian did. Why you spent more time at the Moonstone palace, instead of the House of Wind, where you had grown up and been raised by a handful of Priestesses. It hadn’t been to learn about the politics of the courts but to be closer to Azriel.

And then, with no warning, Rhysand swings.

The hit lands squarely on Azriel’s jaw, so swift and unexpected that neither you nor Azriel’s shadows had seen it coming. Azriel takes the blow without protest, silently commanding his shadows to stand their ground and not fight back.

“Rhys!” you snapped, your brows furrowing into a scowl.

Rhysand huffs, shaking out his hand from the impact. “That’s for going behind my back,” he says. He pauses for a second and then, he lets out a low chuckle. Full of disbelief and relief.

“I’m still angry at both of you,” Rhysand admits, and Azriel lowers his head, bracing for more. “Not because it’s you—though I’ll admit, seeing you together is... strange. But because you kept it from me for so long, putting both of your lives at risk.”

Then Rhysand’s voice softens, his gaze following. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Azriel lifts his head back up in surprise as Rhysand holds out his hand.

“You’re a good male, Azriel. Better than most. And I know you’ll protect her. Love her in a way no one else can.”

Azriel stares at Rhysand’s outstretched hand before finally clasping it, the tension between them easing. Your chest warms at your brother’s sincerity.

The sound of footsteps, heavy and hurried, echo through the stone walls. They grow louder with each passing second and moments later, Cassian and Mor appear at the entrance of your father’s study. Cassian braces himself against the doorframe and Mor leans on him, their chests rising and falling rapidly.

It’s clear they’re winded from the endless stairs they must’ve taken to reach the floor of your father’s private study. It was located between the Court of Nightmares and Moonstone Palace, warded so that only those of his bloodline could winnow directly inside.

Their eyes dart between the three of you.

“What did we miss?”

a/n: hope you enjoyed! here’s a little HC (idk what to call it?) of Rhys’s sis & Az if you’re curious 💙

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

fic tag: @noisyinfluencerstrawberry, @tothestarsandwhateverend, @tulipbite, @kylaisra, @stressed-reader

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x rhysand's sister #rhysand's sister x azriel

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niningtori · 4 months ago

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violets are blue: a hanahaki au | oneshot

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi yeonjun x you

summary: you love beomgyu, your best friend, so much it makes you sick. literally. like, sick in the sense that your days are numbered as you try to fight off the hanahaki threatening to kill you every time he breaks your heart with his loving girlfriend, so you decide you'll try getting over him with the help of his girlfriend's friend, yeonjun.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, hanahaki

warnings: lots of clichés, serious illnesses, and mentions of death

word count: 5.2k

notes: surprise! i didn't think i'd get this out just yet but here it is <3 please don't be mean (i'm fragile) and feedback is always appreciated!

it’s a bearable sort of pain, but it’s still painful, nonetheless. bearable is a very loose term, too, because you know if and when things continue as they are, you will no longer be able to write your symptoms off so casually. and as you lean over beomgyu’s toilet and watch purple petals stained with crimson red blood swirling down the drain, you know it won’t be long before your pain crosses from “bearable” to “hellish”.

still, you manage to flush the evidence of your dying heart and take a good look at yourself in the mirror. your lips are nice and bloody, your makeup nice and smudged. you calmly take out the emergency mouthwash and makeup from your bag and get to work. after you’re finished tidying up, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. with a shaky smile and slightly reddened eyes, you leave his bathroom and prepare for the worst.

and the worst, it is. you just so happen to walk in to beomgyu’s living room while he plants a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek as she giggles like mad. suddenly, your chest hurts even more than it already did and you find it hard to breathe. well, back to the bathroom you go.

you wish it were like the stories. you wish you could get some magical surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs — yes, even if it meant forgetting beomgyu. if you were a better person, you would say you’d rather die with your love than forget him; but as you’ve come to find out, you guess you’re not that selfless. actually, with the way things are now, you think it’d be better to forget. but unfortunately for you, there is no such solution in this world.

as it stands, the only way for you to cure your illness is by finding another love, which you have been too stubborn to try, but as you die a little more and more every day, you realize you have to do something. beomgyu is getting more serious with his girlfriend with every passing day, and even before that, he never once looked at you like anything other than a best friend — which you thought was killing you at the time, in a figurative sense, but now it’s killing you in the most literal of ways and you’re desperate.

you want to tell yourself that beomgyu needs you, and maybe he does, but he does not need your love the way you need his. the proof of this sentiment being that one of you is, at present, dying for the love of the other, and it’s not him.

it’s hard to hate beomgyu’s girlfriend when she’s so fucking nice, so you stopped trying to hate her long, long ago. in another life, you might even call each other friends. in this one, though, it’s a quiet sort of dance where you neither push nor pull her too hard. if she’s there, you greet her with a smile on your face. if she’s not, you don’t ask about her. it’s a delicate little charade, but one you play the part in flawlessly. beomgyu commends you for being “so cool” with her, but you have no other choice. if you veer too much in one direction or the other, you run the risk of losing him for good.

so she is, understandably, very surprised when you wait for beomgyu to go to the bathroom before asking her if she has any single friends.

“oh my god, really? i thought you'd never ask!” she exclaims, and you paste on a smile so sweet it’s sickening.

turns out, she has a lot of friends, unlike you, and many of them are, in her words, handsome. she pulls up a picture of a few of them and your eye is caught by one in particular.

“who’s that one?” you ask, pointing to a black-haired boy with an undercut.

“that’s yeonjun,” she grins. “oh, i just knew you’d like him. you’re totally his type, too. he’s gonna freak when i set you two up.”

“what’s going on?” beomgyu cuts, and your short-lived giddiness is shot in the head almost instantly.

“baby, you’ll never believe it. she’s interested in yeonjun,” she declares, still as excited as ever.

beomgyu turns to you with a look you can only describe as odd. you never talk about dating with him. like, ever. you don’t even seem interested in the idea to the point where he very earnestly sat you down one day and asked you if you were asexual, to which you spent a very arduous few hours awkwardly explaining that you are not. honestly? he didn’t really believe it at the time, but he’s beginning to now, if only because you seem so incredibly flustered at the moment.

“really? that’s great,” he says after a slightly off-putting pause, but thankfully, nobody catches it. “you know, for a second there, i thought you were gonna be our future kids’ single wine aunt forever. i’m glad you’re finally putting yourself out there.” god, he doesn't even know how much he hurts you, but he hurts you all the same. he’s spoken about marrying and having children with her, but to think that you fall into the “fun aunt” role in his future with her just makes you feel sick. you’d better pray that this shit with yeonjun goes well, because your lungs are starting to ache just as the thought.

“this is great,” she says, breaking you out of your trance. “how about this: we’ll go on a double date. that sounds fun, right?”

“actually, i think i’d like to meet him on my own first, if that’s cool with you,” you say. the last thing you need is for the love of your life to be there on your first date with another man. what if things go wrong? or worse, what if things go right? beomgyu can’t be there for that. you can’t do that to poor yeonjun.

she looks disappointed at your words, but beomgyu cheers her up by pinching her cheeks and promising that you’ll all have plenty of chances to go out together if things go well. you try to smile, you really do, but you’re not sure if what comes out looks anything even remotely close to one. luckily, it seems like they’re too absorbed in each other to notice.

you haven’t talked much with yeonjun before tonight, opting to meet him in person to see if the chemistry is there before wasting any time with just “talking”. you simply don’t have the time to spare, and yeonjun seems equally as eager to meet you for reasons unknown. so now you sit all dolled up and glammed out at the back of a dimly lit restaurant as you wait to meet the boy you can only pray will save you. he must have no idea how much you need this.

when you first see him, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. you see beomgyu every day, and he’s the handsomest man in the world to you, but something about yeonjun is different. when he introduces himself and you get to know each other, his charisma charms you in a way you sincerely did not anticipate. he’s funny and goofy, which is just how you like them. you haven’t been on a date in god knows how long, but you’re starting to think that maybe this previously incomprehensibly doomed situation may not be so inescapable after all. that is, until he’s taking you home.

it’s dark outside and he graciously gives you his jacket like the gentleman he is, and you’re walking notably close together on the sidewalk, bodies brushing each other every few steps when he tells you something that just might change your life.

“listen, i really had fun tonight,” he says nervously, and it’s like you can feel the rejection before he even says anything more.

“but to be honest with you, my intentions aren’t exactly pure.” your heart drops. does he just want to sleep with you or something? that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it’s not what you need. you need to love someone and for that someone to love you back so you don’t get sick beyond salvation. the only way to get over beomgyu is by getting serious with someone else.

“then what do you want?” you question feebly. he stops walking and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“i want to fall in love with you, and i want you to fall in love with me. i want us to be together forever. i need it, actually.” he says eerily seriously, and you’re confused for a few moments before it dawns on you.

“you’re sick, aren’t you?” you ask, and his face hardens for a second before he nods.

“y-yeah, i'm sick. if you don't wanna see me again after this, i understand. i just —”

“it's okay. i am, too,” you say with a small, reassuring smile.

“you too?” he asks, eyes comically wide and pouty lips agape in an “o”.

“yeah,” you tell him, and he’s quiet for a few moments before he laughs. it’s a cute, pretty little thing, and it makes you join him, too.

“wow, maybe meeting each other was fate,” he says between giggles.

“maybe,” you reply. and for the first time in a long time, you think you might really make it out of this alive.

“and you won’t believe it, but he told me he spent the whole night with her!” beomgyu’s girlfriend says proudly.

“... what?” he mumbles dazedly.

“he said he went over to her place and stayed there all night, and on the first date, too!” she babbles. “now, he didn’t tell me what they did, but if i know yeonjun, i bet they —”

“stop,” he cuts in. he doesn’t know why, but he feels that if he hears one more word about it, something will feel horribly wrong. it already does feel wrong, in a way, but he can’t quite put his finger on why.

“why? aren’t you happy for them?” she asks confusedly.

“i… i am. it’s just weird, y’know? she’s like… like a sister to me. nobody wants to hear about their sister’s private life,” he reasons, and she nods in response.

“i guess that makes sense,” she says. “but still, i’m so happy for them. especially him. he’s actually had a rough time, lately. i don’t know why, but he’s been acting kinda weird with me, so i —”

“you’re here!” beomgyu says as you walk through his front door. he’s been expecting you. since your first date with yeonjun, he’s been eagerly texting you about it. you haven’t responded much, but he’s been chalking it up to how busy you must be with your new, well, whatever yeonjun is to you. he’s excited when he thinks about how he’ll get to see how you two interact with each other tonight since his girlfriend suggested you all hang out together, but part of him feels off about this entire situation. what he told her was the truth: it is weird to see you with someone, but maybe he’s just not used to it. you’ve never been openly attracted to anyone before, so it’s brand new territory to navigate.

you greet him with a soft smile and not much else, which strikes him as odd, but yeonjun trails in after you, and all other thoughts go out of the window.

“hey, man! nice to see you. it’s been a while,” he says, and yeonjun reciprocates the same excitement, going in for a side hug.

beomgyu’s girlfriend goes in for a hug, too, and yeonjun freezes for a bit, but it goes unnoticed by everyone besides you. you look at him with as much reassurance and understanding as you can muster, and he replies with a grateful, shaky smile.

honestly, you weren’t terribly surprised when he told you that the object of his affections was the very person who holds the heart of the object of yours. she’s a bubbly, lively kind of girl, and it’s easy to fall in love with someone like that. if anything, it just makes you think that maybe yeonjun was right when he said meeting each other was fate.

the night is pretty fun, all things considered, and you find yourself not wanting to die while spending time with the loving couple, but that’s only because yeonjun is sitting next to you. when something particularly devastating happens, you grab each other’s hands and squeeze like you’re the other’s only lifeline. in a way, you kind of are. without him, you’d be on a one-way train to certain death, and without you, he’d be the same.

things are pretty light, though, until beomgyu says he has an announcement to make.

“we’re moving in together!” his girlfriend cheerily cuts in before he can do the honors, and that’s enough to make any hard-earned progress go out the window. you feel your stomach churn and you’re finding it hard to breathe. you look very visibly ill, and while yeonjun is not doing much better, you definitely take it a lot harder.

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you guys!” yeonjun chirps.

“yeah. sorry, i think i need to go to the bathroom,” you mumble, and yeonjun concernedly looks at you before you subtly shake your head. in that brief look, you have an entire conversation. he asks if you’re alright and if you need him to come with you to spill your guts out, and you tell him you’re not, but you’d rather go alone.

while his girlfriend may not catch it, beomgyu certainly does. that odd, silent conversation that only yeonjun and you seem privy to. the fact that you two seem to have a level of understanding with words unspoken makes him feel suffocated, and there’s an unknown sharpness in his chest.

he tries to join back in on the banter, but he can’t shake the uncanny feeling he has, so he excuses himself and follows you to the bathroom.

now, he knows this is really fucking weird to do, so he almost doesn’t do it, but the sound of you retching makes him abandon all consideration of right and wrong. he presses his ear to the door and hears hushed sobs in between hacks, and it makes his eyes widen in horror and concern.

he’s not sure how much time passes, but he hears the heartbreaking sounds die out, and then he hears the water run and you clearing your throat. he takes the cue to stop pressing against the door, and before long, you step out of the bathroom while looking perfectly put together. you flinch almost imperceptibly when you catch him right outside the door.

“are you alright?!” he exclaims, but you just nod and begin to push past him, murmuring something about being fine, but that you and yeonjun need to leave because something came up. he didn’t even know you could move so fast, and he finds that he’s borderline chasing you to the living room where his girlfriend and yeonjun look up in surprise at the scene before them.

“do we need to leave?” yeonjun asks carefully.

“yeah,” you say shortly, and you’re booking it out of the door and onto the porch before beomgyu grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. his girlfriend hesitantly follows yeonjun outside and watches the entire ordeal as puzzle pieces begin to fit together in her mind.

“are you alright?!” he repeats, and you just face him with a withering, humbling look.

“i’m okay. i just don’t feel good tonight, but i’ll be alright. congratulations on everything, i’m sorry i can’t stay to celebrate.” and normally that would be enough to throw him off of your scent, but beomgyu remembers your muffled cries, and he won’t be swayed so easily.

“what’s wrong? no bullshit. just tell me,” he demands in a way that is uncharacteristically solemn, but you can’t answer that. the only way to get him to forget about you is for you to distract him with the person he loves most.

“but your girlfriend —”

“don't even start. what’s wrong?” he, well, asks isn’t even really the world, is it? there’s no room for negotiation in his tone.

“i… i’m sick,” is all you can really say.

“sick how? sick like you need me to take you home?” and he doesn’t really believe his own implication that it’s something so easily fixable, but he has to try.

“i’m… i’m really sick. sick like i’m dying, sick,” you manage to croak out, and it’s everything he feared and more.

“what’s wrong?! do you need to go to the hospital?!” he panics, and you feel an overwhelming sense of dread. this is what you wanted to avoid because he can’t help you. nobody can.

“baby?” the soft voice of his girlfriend pipes up from behind you. his gaze is torn away from you for just a moment, but that’s enough to make you ache.

“not now!” he snaps before turning his attention back to you, but it’s too late. you feel the sharp stems scratching at your lungs, causing a scorching sort of pain you can’t even put into words. slowly, you begin to cough — choke, really — and beomgyu is helpless to watch as you clutch your chest and hack up a mess of bloodied, tangled flowers. his eyes widen as he takes in the blood seeping from the corners of your mouth.

“who?” he asks shakily as you finish coughing up the last of the petals, and you know he’s asking who your unrequited love is, but you don’t reply. you can’t reply.

“who is it?” he asks again with more edge to his voice, but you still can’t muster up the courage to answer him. you could lie like you usually do, but you’re so tired, you just can’t anymore.

“baby?” his girlfriend repeats.

“what?!” he snaps, unable to help himself from losing his temper as he turns to look at her.

“it’s… it’s you,” is all she says, and his scowl drops and morphs into incredulity and dread.

“that's impossible,” he whispers, but one look at you and your twisted expression is enough to erase all doubt. “m-me? listen, you know i love you, but i —”

“it's alright,” you coax, trying to placate him. even in your darkest moments, you're still putting his feelings first, and the thought alone is suffocating him. “i know. i really, really do. you don’t have to explain it to me.” and your “comforting” smile would be more convincing if it weren't stained red.

“but you’re sick! you —”

“i’ll be alright,” you whisper, and he’s at a loss for words at how calm you seem to be. how can you be so resigned? he looks at you — really, truly looks at you — for the first time in god knows how long, and he finally notices how different you are. your frame is lighter, your cheeks are more pronounced, and there are violet bags underneath your bloodshot eyes. how could he have missed so many signs? you’re dying, no way around it, and he was so busy playing house with his girlfriend, he had no idea just how much you were — are — suffering. it’s unforgivable, but he can tell you’ve forgiven him, anyway. how long have you been forgiving him? since the start of his current relationship? or even before that?

“we should go,” yeonjun cuts in tentatively. you just tearily nod, and before beomgyu can say anything more, you’re in yeonjun’s car and driving away.

he calls and texts for days on end, but you don’t respond. at some point, he resolves to come see you in person. the way you looked the last time he saw you haunts him viciously. he just has to see you. he just has to be sure.

but when he shows up at your doorstep, you just look exhausted and even worse for wear. you don’t greet him, even, you just sigh and walk back to your bedroom before plopping down into the bed and looking at him with a look he can only describe as unreadable.

“i just h-had to make sure you’re okay,” he stammers.

“i’m okay,” you reply gently. “i just need some time.”

“b-but maybe if i —”

“it won’t work. the only way out of this is for you to love me back, or for me to get over you. yeonjun is helping me, so it’s going to be alright, i think.”

“what if i —”

“you can’t make yourself love me, beomgyu,” you say softly, the slightest tinge of a reprimand in your voice.

“i… i can try,” he whimpers.

“yes, but i don't want you to. you have a girlfriend,” you patiently reply, but your seemingly unshakable patience just makes him more desperate.

“then what do you want me to do? i’m killing you!” he exclaims, and you wince as a sharp pain strikes your temples at the noise. he notices your response, and he just wants to die from the guilt.

“i don’t want you to do anything. that’s why i didn’t tell you.” how could you not want him to do anything? how could you possibly ask that of him?

“h-how can you say that? how can you just expect me to watch you die?” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks as he looks to you for a perfect solution that will never come.

“i’m alright,” you tell him again, but the way you wheeze afterwards suggests otherwise.

he goes to grab you, maybe to pat your back or maybe to hold you, he’s not really sure, but you feebly put your hand up to stop him before he gets too close. it’s an innocent gesture in and of itself, yet it somehow feels like you just smacked him across the face.

“don’t touch me,” you say, but it’s more like a plea than anything else. “it’ll just hurt me more.” with that, your words devolve into a coughing fit and all he can do is watch as splatters of blood and stems stain the tissue you cough into. he never, not in a million years, thought that his touch would hurt you. it’s supposed to soothe you like nothing else. you know, the way your touch soothes him.

“i think you should go,” you suggest after your coughing has died down. he can see the aftermath of his mere presence etched into the tired lines on your face, and he feels less like a person and more like the scum of the earth.

“what are you thinking about?” a sweet voice says, effectively pulling him out of his reverie. beomgyu is currently supposed to be cooking dinner with his girlfriend, but he’s spending more time spacing out than actually cooking the noodles he’s meant to be stirring.

“n-nothing,” he sputters, but her knit eyebrows and frown let him know he has to elaborate. still, he pretends he doesn’t notice her silent urging and returns to his task.

he can feel her stare on him as he watches the pot, and it’s not very long before she sighs and says her next words.

“you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“what? n-no! i just —”

“yes, you are.” and her tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s filled with a sense of knowing. “it’s normal to think about her, you know? she’s dying and —”

“don’t say that! why would you say that?! she’s not going to die!” he yells, slamming down the fork he was using to stir and turning to face her. he’s visibly shaking with rage — which makes no sense given that he knows, she knows, and even you know that her words are true.

“she’s going to die,” she repeats. “you need to accept that.”

“how can you expect me to accept that?! you two just expect me to be okay with her fucking dying! well, i’m not!” he cries, tears streaming down his face as his words get louder and louder.

“... i think you need to take some time to cool down. i’ll stay with my parents, so do what you need to do. when you’re ready, just call me, okay?” she says, and he only sobers up after he hears the front door slam shut.

beomgyu stays in an odd sort of purgatory. he’s constantly torn between contacting you and leaving you alone like you so obviously want. he tells himself that you’re his best friend, so of course he wants to see you and comfort you, but it feels much deeper than that. like there’s something unsolved and untouched that he just needs to dig a little deeper to figure out, but as for what that something is, he can’t seem to quite grasp.

with this in mind, he never, not in a million years, anticipated that you’d be here on his doorstep. but here you are. you look even worse than before, somehow, which he is surprised by seeing as how things with yeonjun seem to be going well if yeonjun’s instagram updates of the both of you mean anything at all. he invites you in and offers you a seat, but you refuse.

“come on, sit down. you must be tired,” he urges, but you wave your hand.

“i don’t need to stay here long,” you dismiss, and it hurts his heart. “i just need one thing from you, and i’ll be out of here.”

“you need something from me? sure, anything! w-what is it?” and he sounds so hopeful, so earnest. maybe there’s a way to undo what he’s done. maybe he can help you after all. no matter what it is, he knows he can do it.

“... i need you to reject me,” is all you say, but the words ring in his ears. reject you? how can he reject you when it looks like a breeze could knock you over?

“b-but why?” he stammers, and you sigh.

“i finally figured it out. i just need to hear you tell me that you don’t love me, then i think i’ll be able to fully let you go for good.” usually, you’d have a soft smile on your face in order to comfort him, but your face is blank except for your eyes, which seem more desperate than anything he’s ever seen. but your words confuse him.

“let me go for good?”

“yeah. i think if i can just hear you say it, i won’t need to see you anymore. i won’t ask for anything else, i just need to hear it from you,” you say determinedly. but he’s stuck on “i won’t need to see you anymore”. what could you possibly mean by that?

“what do you mean you won't need to see me anymore?” he asks, voice devoid of any ill intent, but filled with genuine confusion.

“i mean, yeonjun doesn’t like me seeing you for obvious reasons, but i told him that i think i’ll be okay after this.” his confusion turns into dread. things that were a mystery to him suddenly make perfect sense.

“i can’t,” he chokes out, and you’re visibly stunned before anger explodes inside of you.

“you can’t? what the fuck do you mean you can’t? why can’t you?!” you seethe. you’ve done everything for beomgyu, you even almost paid the ultimate price for him just so you wouldn’t have to make him uncomfortable with your feelings. you’re quite literally dying because of him, and he can’t offer up a meager sentence for you?

“i… i can��t say it. please don’t make me say it,” he pleads. “i’ll do anything else — anything, i swear to god!”

“beomgyu, there is nothing else. this is the only way. i’m not asking you for much, just say it, then i’ll be okay.” but he can’t do what you ask of him. not when he’s realized what he just realized.

“b-but i… i do love you. i’m sorry, i just didn’t realize it until just now, but i do. a-and if you’ll have me, i —” smack! and his pathetic speech is stopped by your hand meeting his cheek.

“you are so fucking selfish,” you spit, voice low, but vibrating with rage. “more selfish than i will ever be able to understand.”

“w-what do you —”

“beomgyu, you have a girlfriend. a girlfriend who loves you. what about her? huh?” you ask, and his previous momentum falters, but you’re not even finished yet.

“and if she gets sick, are you gonna leave me and tell her you want her instead? you can’t do that, beomgyu. i won’t accept that. i won’t accept your love just because you feel sorry for me,” you declare, voice cracking as thick, hot tears roll down your cheeks. he’s still speechless, so you somehow find it in yourself to continue.

“i’m not doing this with you right now. call your girlfriend, tell her you’re sorry, and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore. and even if i’m gone, don’t you dare tell her what you told me today, okay?” and it’s not really an ask as much as a demand.

“i can’t do that,” he whispers, and you’re not sure if the ache in your heart comes from the briars encircling it or from how pained he looks.

“i know i’m selfish. i know i’m a bastard. but seeing you with yeonjun, or worse, not seeing you at all? that’ll fucking kill me. i just can’t do it. i don’t want to hurt her, but i don’t want to lie to her. or you. or myself,” he says shakily.

“what are you saying?” you ask. this is not how you anticipated things would go.

“i’m saying that if you leave me, i’ll be sick,” he says shakily. “j-just the thought of that makes me…” and it’s a surprise to the both of you when he coughs like crazy, and it’s to the horror to the both of you when a pretty, blood-stained violet petal escapes his mouth.

“oh god,” you whisper. “you can’t do this.”

“i can’t help it!” he exclaims. “i didn’t know before, but it’s true. i just didn’t realize it. i’m just — i’m just sorry i didn’t realize it.”

“beomgyu, it’s going to kill her,” you say, dread evident in your tone.

“i know,” he says tearily. “but it’s you. it’s always been you. we can’t change it.”

“i can’t do this to her. it’s wrong,” is all you can say.

“i can’t live without you, and you can’t live without me,” he replies. “w-whatever happens, can we please just figure it out together? i don’t think i can handle another day without you. i think it might really kill me.” he pushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead, and you know as you feel your heart lighten that you have no choice. if not for you, then for him. whatever happens with his girlfriend, you will try your damndest to make sure she doesn't have the same fate as the two of you.

“okay?” he asks.

“o-okay,” you tell him, because what else is there to say?

notes pt. 2: lorddd i know this ending will be polarizing but what can we do... it is what it is :(

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 11 months ago

Text

ceilings pt2 - san (m)

summary: pe teacher!san x not so single mom!reader. now that san knows about his daughter, he's determined to worm his way into her life. and yours. and maybe your home? or, the one where violet's mom and dad fall in love.

word count: 16.3k (i could say i'm sorry but i'm not)

warnings: SMUT! afab reader, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving). this is unedited and i am sorry about that

masterlist / part one

"mommy, where's daddy?"

"he's at home, sugar," you answer violet. she's been asking about her dad a lot more lately, considering she now knows that san, her pe teacher, is her father. the two of you told violet the same night that you told san, and at first you worried that was the wrong choice. you were worried this would be too much for violet all at once and she wouldn't understand, so you and san came up with a plan.

you still drove violet to school every day, but she'd come home with san. he'd always bring her back to your house and watch her until you got home. every other night, the two of you would make dinner, or san would treat his girls to whatever they wanted if you were too lazy to cook. on the weekends, he and violet had daddy daughter days where he took her to the park, to birthday parties, friend's houses for playdates, the store...they went anywhere and everywhere together. daddy daughter days were always followed by family fun days where san would spend the night and wake up with you in his arms and violet knocking at the door asking to play. these were his favorites (and yours too) because it was just a glimpse of how wonderful your life as a family could be.

it was so hard for san to leave, though. he hated going back to his empty apartment during the week, and family fun days usually carried over into monday morning. the only thing stopping san from coming back and staying that night, and the next, and the next..the only thing stopping him was you.

you claim you were too afraid of changing violet's schedule so quickly, because san was, in a way, still a stranger to your daughter. you were afraid of doing anything that would hurt violet now or later on in life, so you wanted to take things slow with san. in reality, you were afraid of opening your own life to him. you know he's a great dad, you know you can trust him with violet, but you're afraid of trusting him with yourself. honestly, violet has been handling this great. now it's just you that needs to adjust.

you will say, the only growing pain so far is 1) getting violet to refer to san as mr. choi still at school and 2) getting her to not call him mr. dad at home. other than that, she's loving this whole dad thing. she's got another playmate, a new best buddy, a partner in crime. it's so cool seeing violet and san bond finally, and every day you catch yourself loving them both more and more.

"when we finish dinner, can we call him?" she asks. (she saw him less than an hour ago.)

"as soon as you eat your broccoli," you tell her, and you have to stifle a laugh at the way she rolls her eyes. your little drama queen. she listens though, because she's done with her food in record time. you let her take your phone and call her dad, laughing at the way she's speaking a mile a minute as soon as he picks up.

while violet and san talk, you clean up dinner. you don't have to do much, because san did most of your dishes while he waited for you to get home from work today. you're trying to balance the mess in your fridge and find space for the leftovers when you notice something you don't remember buying. you pull it out and see a handwritten note, from san, telling you he bought your favorite dessert "just because." you're pulling it from the fridge to sneak a couple bites without violet knowing when she appears in the doorway, your phone smooshed between her cheek and her shoulder. squeezed in her hands is san's old pillow, shiber, and she plays with it as she asks, "mommy? can daddy spend the night?"

"huh?" you laugh, recognizing how odd that sentence is. it's just another reminder for you that you need to get comfortable with san being here, being with you, because the longer you wait, the less she gets to see of her dad. you can hear san faintly through the phone, and then violet nods, goes, "mhm, she's right here," then passes the phone to you. "daddy said he wants to talk to you."

"is this the handsome man who left a tiramisu in my fridge this afternoon?" you greet him, and you get butterflies in your stomach when you hear his happy laugh.

"and what if it is?"

"thank you, san."

"of course, m'love," he says like it's nothing. "figured you would like it."

"so what's this i hear about you spending the night?" you ask as you try a bite of the tiramisu. it's sweet and comforting, just like san.

"that was violet's idea, i swear-"

"so you won't admit that you miss me?" you tease.

"will you admit that you miss me?" he gives it right back, and you feel your face flush.

"i do," you nod. "i miss you. if you want to spend the night tonight you can. sorry you had to go home-"

"don't say sorry," he cuts you off. "i'll be there in 20."

san is at your house in 15 minutes. he lets himself in, which will never not surprise you, because you're so used to being the only person with a key to your house. while you're recovering from the small heart attack of thinking an intruder was opening the front door, violet comes tearing out of her room screeching for her dad. she's so happy to see him, she jumps into his arms and he has to catch himself on the door to stop from falling. you let them have a moment, content to hang off to the side but san pulls you into his side and places a delicate kiss on your cheek.

"hey," he smiles.

"hello," you squeak, and he squeezes you closer to his side. "you want me to take your stuff to our room?"

"our room?" he asks, his smile growing bigger. "you've never called it that before."

"do you want me to take it or not," you deadpan, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.

"yeah, you can take my stuff to our room," he emphasizes. "i'll get our daughter ready for bed."

"no!" violet whines. "you just got here!"

"you still have school tomorrow, bug," he tells her, booping her nose. "gotta stick to bedtime, but i'll read you an extra book after your bath. ok?"

"ok," she grumbles, wiggling her way out of his arms so she can stomp off to her room. you and san share a laugh and you turn to take his things, but his firm hand tugging your wrist stops you. he pulls you back to his side, cupping his hand under your chin so he can kiss your lips swiftly.

"you know we can kiss in front of her, right?" you whisper to him, but san shakes his head.

"wanted that one to be just for me and you," he says, his hand slipping from your wrist to playfully pat your ass. "go, i'll get her bath started."

"so pushy," you grumble, but you see san smiling from the corner of your eye as you take his things to your room.

not so long after that, you find your little family cuddled up on violet's bed. you're pushed up against the wall, violet smushed into your side, and san's broad form takes up the rest of the bed. he's reading a book to violet that's putting you and your daughter to sleep, and before you know it you've drifted off. you register a soft kiss to your forehead, the bed shifting a little, and then you fall into the deepest sleep you've had in years.

you wake up the next morning in a similar way, except this time, you feel two pairs of lips kissing you. you open your eyes to violet kissing your cheek and san pulling back from kissing your forehead. they're both dressed for school, and you sit up in a panic, mumbling incoherently.

"shh, baby, go back to sleep," san soothes you. "i'll take violet to school, i reset your alarm so you can rest a little more before you have to leave for work."

"what?" you ask groggily, and san explains that the three of you fell asleep in violet's bed. she woke up before her alarm, which woke san up, and he made their breakfast and packed their lunches while violet got dressed. there was nothing for you to do but sit there confused, a pleasant feeling blossoming in your chest. "i guess i'll see you tonight then?"

"you will," san nods, brushing some hair out of your face. "now please, go back to sleep."

"no," you shake your head, reaching for violet. "goodbye hugs. have a good day at school, sugar."

"i will!" she chirps. "it's a pe day, so i get to eat lunch in daddy's office!"

"ooo, i'm jealous," you say as you let her go. you blow san a kiss as he ushers violet out of her room, and he catches it dramatically and pops it into his pocket. he winks at you before he closes the door, reminding you one last time to rest before he leaves. when you hear the front door close, you let yourself fall back onto violet's pillows, catching the scent of san lingering in the sheets. you could get used to mornings like this.

san and violet have a great day at school. as promised, she got to eat lunch in his office, and she felt like the coolest person in the world getting walked back to class by her dad. hand in hand they go back to miss jen's room, meeting the class outside as they take a potty break. violet runs to join her friends, so san stops to say hi to jen.

"we missed you at lunch today," she says. "wooyoung thought you were having a conjugal visit with your wife."

"shut up."

"his words, not mine," she says, putting her hands up. "but violet told me you brought her to school today? is y/n ok?"

"yeah, she's fine," san shrugs. "i just figured she could use the sleep, so i got violet ready and brought her with me this morning."

"you spent the night?" jen wiggles her eyebrows.

"it's not like that," san laughs. "we all slept in violet's bed, no funny business."

"that's fucking cute," jen whispers, her eyes looking over her class to make sure they didn't hear her use a bad word. "things must be going well then!"

"it was violet's idea, me spending the night," san sighs, "but y/n was fine with it, so i guess, yeah, things are great."

"why don't you ask to move in? i know you want to."

"y/n would say no," san shakes his head. "she's not ready for that."

"then we'll make her ready!" jen decides. "i need you two to be madly in love already. i'm living vicariously through you right now."

"if you would just go on a date with wooyoung-"

"stop," jen points a harsh finger in san's face. "we are friends."

"friends who like each other-"

"come on, class, let's go!" jen calls for her kids, and san sticks his tongue out at her as she hurries off. if jen can play matchmaker with him and y/n, then san has every right to get her to realize wooyoung is obsessed with her. he'll bring it up to y/n tonight, see what else they can do.

seeing as you and san are trying to figure this whole estranged friends turned lovers turned parents thing out, one thing you struggle with is finding moments just to be a couple together. you and san never dated, really. yes, some of your time in college could constitute as the early stages of a relationship, but that doesn't really count. you're not sure you and san have ever been on a date under the premise of it being a date, but you are absolutely dating. he's your boyfriend, and you're his girlfriend. it feels trivial trying to define what you are to each other considering the circumstances, so you and san barely talk about it. it hasn't come up in a while, actually, but one friday while you're picking violet up from school, san approaches your car with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"hey beautiful," he greets you, leaning down to give you a kiss as yeosang (mr. kang, the librarian) helps violet into her carseat. at the sound of your lips popping apart from san's, yeosang gasps dramatically with violet.

"how dare you do that in public," yeosang shakes his head. "there's children present."

"mommy and daddy kiss all the time," violet tells him, and you all stifle laughs at the disgust in her voice.

"thanks for the help, man," san calls to yeosang as he heads off to grab the next carpooler. san ducks his head back into your car to ask, "what are you doing tonight?"

"hmm, nothing really," you think. "somebody has to help me clean the living room," you say with a glance to violet in the rearview, and she looks around like she can't hear you, "but other than that we're not busy. why?"

"let me take you out," san smiles.

"just me?"

"yep."

"what's our kid gonna do?"

"wooyoung can watch her," san shrugs, and you look at him skeptically. "orrr we could bother jen last minute-"

"she's got a date," you inform him, and san looks sad for a moment. "what's wrong with that?"

"that's gonna kill wooyoung," he sighs. "but whatever. he'll be fine with violet, he handles a third grade class on his own and so far he's only killed a fish."

"what?"

"baby, please," san starts to beg, grabbing one of your hands in his bigger ones and squeezing tight. "i would like to go on a date with you tonight. please say yes."

"of course i'll go out with you sannie," you reply, using your free hand to reach out and push some of his hair out of his eyes. "if you trust wooyoung with violet, then sure. just tell me where to be and when."

"be ready at seven," san smiles so big you're afraid it'll split his face. "i'll pick you up. dress sexy."

"san!"

"mommy, what does sexy mean?"

"sorry," san smiles still, leaning in to kiss you one last time. "see you later. bye bug!"

"bye daddy!"

you've always tried to be a good role model for violet, to show her what a strong woman looks like. you're not sure how that's translating tonight though, because you're stressing so much about this date with san that violet, in her little kid ways, is trying to comfort you. first she brought you her favorite stuffie to keep you company while you got ready. while you showered and stressed over your makeup, violet cleaned her toys in the living room without being asked. when she finished that and saw you were still frantic, she just climbed on your bed amidst the piles of clothes and started giving her own advice.

"daddy likes when you have sparkles on your eyes," she suggests, and you know she means glittery eyeshadow. san says it makes your eyes look like the night sky, and it always makes your stomach flip.

"if i wear that eyeshadow, then i need to wear one of these," you say as you hold up your outfit options. "these colors go together best."

"really?" violet scrunches her face up.

"yes? why?"

"that shirt is ugly," she says bluntly, pointing to the hanger in your right hand. "but i don't like that dress either. it's a yucky color."

the "yucky" color was an olive green, which you thought wasn't that bad, but violet had a point. the shirt was ugly now that you looked at it, and if she hated the dress too...

"what do you think i should wear, baby?" you ask as you try to organize the mess on your bed. "you pick."

"mmm, something blue," she says confidently, so you help her look. surprisingly, she puts together an outfit that you really like. violet stands in front of you in the floor length mirror, staring up at you proudly. you lean down to squeeze her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek before telling her this outfit is perfect.

violet looks so pleased with herself as you stand back up and watch her in the reflection. you focus a lot on how violet looks like san, but every once in a while you look at her and get this indescribable feeling of recognition in your chest. she is your daughter through and through, and you love sharing moments like these with her. as you stand there, you quickly notice that same glint of mischief you've seen in san's eyes before as she says, "do you think daddy's gonna call you sexy again?"

san comes over early with wooyoung in tow. the first thing he says when he enters your home isn't a hello, a nice to meet you, or anything remotely polite. he looks you dead in the eyes and asks, "why is jen on a date with seonghwa?!"

"excuse me?" you ask, looking from him to your date. san just shrugs before running off to find violet, leaving you all alone to answer wooyoung's interrogation.

"i mean, i've only been in love with her for years and instead of going out with me she picks this guy just because he's new and shiny and annoying.." wooyoung grumbles.

"you're annoying too, man," san says as he enters the room with violet in his arms.

"hi mr. wooyoung," she chirps, and wooyoung smiles warmly at her.

"hey violet! i'm your dad's best friend, so i think you and i will be best friends, too."

"i thought mommy was his best friend," violet pouts, and that sends wooyoung into another rant.

"you can have more than one best friend," you tell your daughter. "mommy has more than one best friend, and nobody is upset about that," you shoot wooyoung a look, and the mom eyes get him to shut up. "also, if you've been in love with jen for years then you've had plenty of chances to ask her out. sorry that seonghwa manned up and did it before you-"

"wooyoung, let me show you where all of vi's stuff is," san cuts in, afraid that you and wooyoung were about to get into a catty argument. you'd be late for your reservation if san let you keep going, so he runs through all the important things for wooyoung as you finish making violet's dinner. you don't hear san join you in the kitchen, too distracted by the sound of wooyoung and violet pretending to be what sounds like fighter pilots in the living room. you jump when san wraps his hands around your waist, sliding under the apron you tied over your dress to keep it pristine while you cooked.

"hey gorgeous," he whispers into your ear, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as his lips trail from your ear down the column of your neck and to the exposed skin on your shoulder. he turns you around, hands still firmly around your waist, and he kisses you quickly. against your lips, he whispers, "this dress is gonna kill me."

"you'll be fine," you whisper back, hands rubbing over the crisp black fabric struggling to stay buttoned over his broad chest. you take him in then, the all black outfit making him look so handsome it's almost intimidating. the way his shirt is buttoned all the way to his neck, though...

"what's wrong?" san asks, his thumb rubbing at the crease between your eyebrows. "is my shirt wrinkly?"

"no, you just look like a waiter-"

"y/n," san whines, his hands squeezing your waist. "seriously baby?"

"well it's just," you start, your fingers finding their way to the collar of his shirt. "with all the buttons done up, yes, you look like a - very handsome - waiter. i think it'd look better this this," you mumble, undoing the top few buttons. now it's san's turn to get goosebumps, little tingles traveling across his skin as your fingers brush against his neck. you readjust his collar to show a little more skin, and you smile, satisfied with your work when you notice how flushed he is.

"better?" he asks as he clears his throat, and you nod.

"will you get violet in here? her food is ready."

once violet is set up at the kitchen table with her dinner, you and san start to say your goodbyes. you're running through violet's nighttime routine with wooyoung, and the boys assure you that you'll come home to your daughter in one piece.

"i've watched kids before, y/n," wooyoung says. "violet will be fine."

"you know i'll kick your ass if we come home and she's not," san says, and you hit his arm as violet calls out, "swear jar, daddy!"

"ok, we really need to go," you say. "we're gonna be late-"

"wait!" wooyoung shouts, getting up from the kitchen table with his phone out. "baby's first date. i need to get a picture."

"wooyoung," you groan as san says, "let him, baby. it'll be cute."

so you let wooyoung dramatically take pictures of you and san together, treating this more like senior prom than a date with someone you've known for almost ten years. san is eating this up, but you're trying to fight it. he's wrapping you in his arms, trying to kiss you for the photos, and you can't help it, you become a giggly mess. wooyoung is cooing over you two as he snaps the photos, but your eyes find violet watching from the kitchen. she's smiling, and it almost makes you tear up. you hope violet remembers moments like this as she gets old, and remembers how much you love san and how much he loves you. you want this same kind of love for her, something pure, protective, and so caring. you want this girl's standards so high, because she deserves all the love in the world. you wonder for a moment if you've found that kind of love, and when san calls your name to lead you out the door, you know. the look in his eyes tells you just how loved you are.

you and san share a beautiful evening together. san took you into the city to one of your favorite restaurants, and you were spoiled all night. dinner was delicious, the champagne was just strong enough that you're just tipsy but still very aware of how warm san makes you feel, and you share a dessert that you took turns feeding to each other. as far as "first" dates go, this was absolutely perfect.

neither of you wanted to leave, but you knew you had to get home for violet. she's on your mind as you make the short walk back to san's car, and a sign in the distance catches your eye. you turn to san with a twinkle in your eyes and say, "let's get donuts."

"what? baby, aren't you stuffed?" he asks, but you shake your head and grab his hand anyway. you lead the way to the donut shop a few blocks down, san following behind you with a content smile on his face. he'd follow you anywhere, he thinks. hell, if you wanted to run down this street until you ran out of road he'd follow you. he's glad the trek isn't that far though, but he wonders briefly if your shoes will be able to make the walk back to the car.

"violet will be so stoked to have donuts for breakfast tomorrow," you finally explain, and san nods along as you pick out what's left from the day. you're still gripping his hand firmly in yours, so you struggle to reach your purse when it's time to pay. san uses his free hand to take out his wallet, paying before you have a chance.

"still date night, still my treat," he whispers to you before kissing the top of your head. he takes the bag of donuts from the cashier as you both call out your thanks, and san sees you grab a couple napkins before he tugs you out of the store.

"gimme," you reach out for the bag, and san holds it out to you. you search for something, tongue peeking out between your lips in concentration. when you find what you want, you pull it out with one of the napkins, presenting a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles. you take a bite, humming at the sweetness, and then you hold it up in front of san's face. "take a bite, it's really good."

"i'm full my love," he tells you, but you bump the donut into his mouth anyway. when he laughs, you try it again and aim for his open mouth, but he keeps managing to pull away. laughing softly, you come to a stop at a red light, and you decide to address something.

"san? you know i love you right?" you ask, and san looks at you in confusion. "what? you didn't know?"

"no, i knew," he shakes his head. "but, baby, i don't think we've said that to each other before."

"yes we have," you scoff, but san shakes his head again.

"as friends, yeah. but not seriously."

"oh."

"yeah."

"sorry?"

"sorry?" san chuckles, the light turning so you can cross the street. he watches you carefully try to navigate the bumpy crosswalk, and when you look back up at him he sees that you're blushing.

"yeah, i'm sorry i said it like that for the first time," you shrug. "like it wasn't a big deal."

"it's still a big deal," he assures you.

"but that's not how you're supposed to tell someone you love them!"

"i think we just do things differently, baby."

"whatever," you mumble. you're stopped at another light, so you turn to him fully, eyes holding his gaze, and say, "choi san, i love you."

"y/f/n," he replies, "i love you even more."

"oh really?"

"yeah," he nods. "like, way more."

"hmm."

"and you know what?" he asks. you hum in reply, and he continues. "i think your name would sound a loooot better with my last name."

"what?" you stop in your tracks. "are you-"

"i'm not proposing," he laughs. "just flirting, a little bit."

"oh so we're flirting now?" you ask. "then might i say, your ass looks great in those slacks."

"classy," san squeaks out. you're coming up on the street where you parked, and you stop san before he can turn. he's about to ask why, but you just point up toward the buildings ahead. it's a clear night, so you can almost see the stars in the night sky, but the skyline is glittering in front of you so beautifully it takes your breath away. you stand together admiring it, and only when you turn to find san already looking at you do you pull him in the direction of the car.

he unlocks the car from your side, but you stop him before he can leave. you wrap your arms around his neck, lean your face close to his, and whisper, "i love you so much, san." you kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, and he boxes you in so you're pressed against the cool metal of the car as he deepens the kiss. you make out for what feels like only a few seconds, but when san finally pulls away you notice you're out of breath.

"let's go home," he whispers, a fire in his eyes you've only seen once before. you've got butterflies in your stomach as san drives home, a firm hand on your thigh the whole way. you're watching him the whole drive, and san tries to focus on the road. he steals glances as much as he can, and when you get close to your house you start to get antsy. you place your hand on his, pushing it ever so slightly farther up your leg, and san's other hand is gripping the wheel so hard he's afraid it'll snap. he speeds the final few minutes back to your house, and as soon as the car is off he's grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. your hands start at his shoulders and slowly make their way down...and then there's a buzzing sound coming from somewhere. you want to pull away and look for the phone, but san holds you tightly in place. you have to speak directly into his mouth to ask, "who is it?"

"who cares?" san mumbles back into your lips. he keeps kissing you, and the buzzing dies out. but then you feel your purse start to vibrate by your feet, and you push san away with a pop as his lips disconnect from yours, his mouth still pursed and eyes closed like he doesn't believe you actually pushed him away. you reach for your phone, mumbling about how it could be an emergency, and when you show him that it's wooyoung, you think you've been vindicated. you answer and ask quickly, "is violet alright?"

"i'm not getting paid for you two to make out in your driveway," wooyoung replies, and your head falls back with a sigh.

"you're not getting paid at all, wooyoung."

"what?!"

"thanks man!" san shouts into your phone. "totally ruined the moment!"

"good!" wooyoung shouts back. "i'm bitter! and bored! come inside!"

"i'm gonna punch him," san tells you as you collect your things. he's out of the car before you and rushes to open your door.

"you are not," you roll your eyes. "just get him out of the house quickly, please."

"fine," san grumbles as you get your keys out to unlock the door. wooyoung is faster though, tearing the door open with a big smile on his face.

"welcome home lovebirds," he greets you with a sweep of your arms. you almost gasp when you see your house, because it's cleaner than you've maybe ever seen it. you look to wooyoung in shock, and he shrugs. "told you, i was bored. violet's been asleep for about two hours, so i needed something to do."

"you cleaned my house," you say in disbelief, peeking around corners and seeing things neatly put away, blankets folded, dishes washed and dried. you turn to wooyoung and say, "i think i might love you."

"whoa," san jumps in. "let's not say things we don't mean."

"whatever," you say, still looking around in surprise. "wooyoung i take back anything bad i ever said about you."

"you said bad stuff about me?" he pouts, and you remind him, "jen? not asking her out when you're both obviously into each other?"

"you think jen's into me?" wooyoung asks, and it's his turn to be shocked.

"he's never gonna leave now," san sighs as he comes up behind you and tucks his head onto your shoulder. "i've told you that before, man."

"yeah, but you're not a reliable source," wooyoung chides. he's about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"listen, i'd be happy to tell you how in love jen is with you, but maybe another time," you say, trying to use the mom eyes on wooyoung again to get him to leave. it seems to work, because he looks between you and san with a knowing look in his eyes.

"right, right, you two probably wanna get busy," he nods, and you feel san groan rather than hear it. "i'll leave you to it, violet was telling me how she wants a baby brother-"

"alright man, i'll see you later," san says as he detaches from you and pushes wooyoung toward the door. you watch them bicker a little before san shoves his friend outside and closes the door softly after. he leans against it and sighs, eyes reopening to find you watching him. "c'mere."

you saunter over to him, hands cupping his chin as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. you think if you step back and head for your room he'll follow you, but instead he grabs you by the hips and spins you around so you're pressed against the door. he makes sure there's no space between you, your chest pressed to his and his hips slotted over yours as he leans down for another kiss. he slowly trails his lips down your chin, across your neck, and stops right where your collarbone dips down slightly. he sucks a kiss into your skin, relishing in the way your breath catches as you try to stay quiet. he stays there, biting and kissing at your neck, and you reach up with a shaky hand to snake your fingers through his hair. you pull him off of you, a sounds close to a growl coming from deep within san's chest. you stare into his eyes, that flame still flickering from before.

"let's go to our room," you say breathlessly, and san nods. before you can stop him, he's scooping you up in his strong arms and carrying you to the bedroom, a squeal dying on your lips as he kisses you harder. he's able to kick the door closed before he tosses you down on the bed. you watch as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the ground, and you giggle.

"somebody's eager," you tease, and san groans.

"been waiting too long for this, damn right i'm eager," he mumbles as he crawls on top of you. he kisses you again, and this time it's messier, more teasing, and it takes you back to the first time you and san were in this position. you remember how he made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you feel that same way now. he breaks away from you and just stares, which starts to weird you out.

"earth to sannie?" you whisper. "what are you doing?"

"admiring you?" he smiles. "sorry, i got distracted."

"you got distracted staring at me?"

"yeah?"

"you're sickening," you tell him before kissing him again. this time, you wrap your legs around his hips and flip him over so you're straddling his lap. san has that same dopey look on his face from a second ago, so you decide to do something that will break this sappy haze he seems to be in. "so i was going to take my dress off, but i'm not wearing much underneath it..."

"baby," he whines, holding your hips and kind of kicking around like he's having a tantrum. "why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"we never would've left," you answer, and he shuts up. you lean down to kiss him, and over his lips you tell him, "and if we hadn't gone on our perfect date, i wouldn't have told you i loved you," you kiss him, "and knowing you, if we had stayed home, this would've been faster," kiss, "more frantic," kiss, "and what's the fun in that? we took our time getting here. why don't we enjoy it?"

"exactly," san growls, using his hands on your hips to pull you closer to the tent in his pants. you gasp at the friction, so san moves your hips again, and again, as he says, "we've waited this long. i don't want to wait anymore, just wanna make love to you."

"oh you do?" you ask as your hands find the buttons on his shirt. you trail kisses across his jawline as you undo his shirt, sitting up to admire his broad chest as your hands slide under the fabric and push it away. san refuses to let go of you, so you leave his shirt hanging off his shoulders as you trace over every freckle, every line, every curve of his chest. your hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of his pants, and san grabs both of your hands in one of his to stop you.

"take your dress off," he says lowly, and you feel his words in the pit of your stomach.

"not fair," you pout, but he shakes his head.

"wanna see you," he says, already breathless. his hands find the hem of your dress, fingers tracing along your skin and sending goosebumps across your thighs. he helps you push the skirt of the dress up, and he lets out a hiss of breath when he sees your panties, almost the same shade of blue as the dress. you keep pulling the fabric up and over your body, and san moans softly when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

"told you there wasn't much underneath," you laugh as you pull his hands from their slow ascent up your legs. you bring them to your chest to cup your boobs, and san sighs at the soft feeling. you lean back down over him, replacing your mouth on his. you make out like that for a while, san getting lost in the feeling of having you this way again. he doesn't know how he went years without this. he curses himself for all the lost time, but he smirks into your mouth as he thinks of all the ways he can make up for it in the future. you feel the shift in his features, so you pull back and ask, "what are you thinkin about?"

"about how much i love you?" he tries, and you don't fall for it. he squeezes your chest as he admits, "thinkin about all the ways i wanna have you this weekend."

"have me?" you tease him, and he nods. "what's the first one?"

"want you to ride me."

"you sure? we made a baby like that the last time," you tell him as you unbutton his slacks anyway. you're both impatient, so you don't even try to get his pants off, just low enough for you to cup the bulge in his boxers before you pull those down too. his cock springs free, and you spit in your hand before wrapping your fist around it. you stroke him a few times, even though it's not necessary. san might be harder than he's ever been right now, but you can't help it. he's moaning beneath you so beautifully, you get lost in the sound until he moans out your name.

"y/n, please," he groans. "just sit on it, please. need to feel you, baby."

"what if i wasn't ready?" you ask, but you pull your panties to the side anyway.

"could feel you soaking my pants," san smirks. "can't be cocky when i know exactly how bad you want me, baby."

"shut up," you mumble, trying to focus on guiding his tip to your entrance. you feel his tip against you and you hiss, you forgot how big he was. you lower yourself on his cock, moaning softly as san holds onto your hips for dear life to keep from bucking up into you. he waits for you to settle in his lap, no space left between you, and then he lets out a deep breath.

"feels so good, y/n," he sighs. "like your pussy was made for me."

"i need a minute," you tell him, and he rubs soothing circles into your skin.

"take your time my love," he says. your eyes are screwed shut, genuinely not used to feeling this full, and san reaches a hand up to your face to soothe the tension away. his other hand travels to your core, swiping through the arousal dripping from you so he can drag his finger up to your clit. he draws lazy circles around it, tapping over the bundle so softly. if you weren't so desperate for his touch, maybe you wouldn't be jerking at each little movement, but it's helping you relax.

you feel ready to move, and you place your hands over san's stomach for leverage as you pull off of him, leaving just the tip in. san's going crazy, he's trying to hard to go at your pace, to let you take your time, but he's losing that battle fast. he watches as you bounce above him, cupping your chest and focusing on your nipples so he doesn't put all his attention on how bad he wants to fuck up into you, to make another baby with you. he wants to enjoy this, like you said, he wants to take it slow if that's what you want, but god, he wants so much more.

"how do you feel baby?" he asks, and you whimper in response. that alone could kill a weaker man, he thinks, but the way you're gripping around his cock, how warm you are, how beautiful you sound, he's not going to last long. you put the final nail in his coffin when you whine out, "you feel so good sannie, missed you, missed your cock..."

san can't take it anymore, he grabs onto your hips again and slams you down onto his cock. he holds you there for a second, letting you feel every inch of him as you squirm in his lap, and just when he thinks you're about to tap out he grinds into you. you didn't think he could get deeper, but you can feel him in your gut. he pulls you up and guides you back down, and he does this a few more times before you finally gasp out, "'m close, sannie, 'm gonna come-"

and that's all he needs to hear. he holds you in place above him, braces himself from below, and starts fucking up into you. he's been waiting for this, god he's waited for this, and he wants to ingrain everything into his memory. the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel. it's overwhelming, and he can't help it, he starts to come, fucking his load into you as he tries to get you to your own high. he brings his hand back to your clit, and you're gasping above him, coming so hard you think you see stars. san lets you catch your breath above him, his cock still buried deep inside you. he's also afraid that if you move, all his come will leak out, and selfishly, he doesn't want that to happen. he felt his heart skip an excited beat at the idea of having another kid with you, so he's happy to sit and wait until you're ready to move.

"fuck," you whisper as you start to separate from him. "fuck, that felt really good."

"and to think, you deprived yourself of that for so many years," san says with a shit eating grin. you pinch his chest as you get up, but he takes you by surprise and pins you down before you can leave the bed. "where ya goin?"

"to shower?" you reply, and san smirks above you.

"who said i was done lovin you though?"

san wakes up the next morning and immediately puts his arms out to find you. he sighs happily as he pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his head into your hair. he takes a deep breath in, thinking not for the first time that he would be happy staying like this for years. he doesn't know how you expect him to leave once this weekend is over, condemned to come and go just to end up at his lonely apartment each night. he understands why you both decided on this set up, but he hates it. he'll just have to find a way to convince you that you'd be miserable without san here 24/7, and he thinks he's got a good idea to start.

you'd think the three rounds last night would be enough for any regular man, but not san. now that he's had you again he can't help himself. even holding you and feeling your warm breath hit his chest has him shifting to accommodate the growing problem beneath the sheets. he has no idea how he was able to wait years to fuck you, because he can't imagine waiting another second right now. he slowly rolls you back onto your pillow, hoping he won't wake you just yet. he makes sure you're comfortably laid back and then he pushes the sheets away, crawling down until his face is level with your bare stomach.

he leaves light kisses across your skin, starting above your bellybutton and trailing down. he sucks a couple hickeys on the skin of your hips, tracing his thumbs over the reddened marks in satisfaction. you begged him not to leave too many marks last night, but he looks up proudly and sees the result of your lost fight. there's only one or two spots on your neck, but your collarbone and your chest are a different story. san wants you to know you're his, finally his, so if he has to leave daily love bites on your skin to remind you, he will. happily.

he kisses one of the marks on your hips now, licking the skin just to taste you. he feels himself get excited at the thought of really tasting you, and he continues his descent down to your core. he thought about this as you were falling asleep last night, but he's never really seen your pussy. the few times you've had sex, there were just other things on his mind, so now that he can, san takes his time admiring you. he uses his thumbs to pull your lips apart, moaning softly at the sight of his come dripping out of you or dried on your skin. he leans in and places a kiss over your clit, and your legs jerk, but you stay otherwise still. that won't do, san thinks, so he delicately traces your entrance, collecting some of the wetness that's still pouring from you, and strokes your clit. he licks over it carefully, wanting to savor this moment.

his ears perk up as he hears you start to whimper, so he cups his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks ever so slightly. his fingers trail back to your entrance, dipping in just so, and he sets a steady rhythm of playing with your clit and easing his fingers into your core. he's focused on his work, determined to make you feel good, but he wants more. he switches his fingers up to your clit, your wetness helping them glide over you easily. he kisses down your pussy until he gets to your entrance and dips his tongue in. you stir again, so san repeats his movements, determined to wake you up. he loses himself at the taste of you, and when he thinks about last night, how many times he came inside you, he moans into your core. he's getting impatient, his senses drowning in you. all he can feel is you, all he can taste is you, all he hears is you calling his name...wait-

"sannie, fuck," you gasp above him, your hands pulling at his hair to get him away from your sensitive core, but he holds strong. you try to use your thighs to squeeze his head and push him away, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your pussy, but he reaches up and holds your legs apart so he can eat you like a man starved. now that you're awake, he doesn't have to keep quiet. he's drunk on your pussy, moaning and slurping obscenely, mumbling about how good you feel, how good you taste, how he wants to make you feel good. you can't help it, you start to come, gasping above him trying to take a deep breath. san feels you tighten around his tongue, but he keeps going. he keeps eating your pussy like he'll never get the chance again, and your sleepy haze mixed with the way he's making you feel has your vision spotty and your mind in a haze. he gets you to come again soon after, and you finally whine his name loud enough for him to look up at you, his mouth lazily teasing you as you exhale, "well. good morning."

"morning baby," he smiles, your arousal all over his chin. you whine, and he strokes your thighs comfortingly as he asks, "can you give me another one? still hungry."

"we have donuts."

"they're not as sweet as you," he insists, diving back in. you can't keep up with him, your senses so overloaded with san that you're begging for something but you don't know what. san works you up to another release before giving you a break, crawling up your body and trailing kisses the whole way. you try slapping his chest, but the movement is so weak it only makes him laugh. "what are you doing, love?"

"trying to hit you," you reply. "i'd kick you but i don't think my legs work."

"good, i did my job then," san says happily. he collapses on top of you, and you blush at the feeling of the mess between your legs. with san's chin on your chest, staring at you so content, you flick his nose and he bursts into laughter. "what was that for?!"

"for being perfect. and for turning me into a shell of a woman. i can't move, seriously."

"need me to help you into the shower, doll?"

"no," you shake your head. "i don't trust what you'd do in there."

"nothing out of the ordinary," he smirks, and you flick his nose again. he moves quick, biting your finger before you can move away, and you squeal. with your finger between his teeth he asks, "so? shower?"

"if you can carry me, then yeah," you give in. san pulls himself out of bed, easily lifting you from the bed as you raise your arms to wrap around his neck. he places you delicately on the bathroom counter, laughing with you as you squeal over the cold marble. he runs a bath for you, insisting that if your legs don't work you shouldn't be standing in the shower. he helps you into the warm water once it's ready, and you assume he's going to join you but instead he turns back to your room. "baaabyyy," you whine, and he's in the doorway immediately.

"what's wrong? was it too much? are you sore?" he asks in worry, but you shake your head and make grabby hands for him in response. he smiles as he comes closer, holding your hands in his as he asks, "are you always this needy after sex?"

"yep," you reply. "get used to it. and get in the tub with me."

"can't," san sighs, dipping down to give you a kiss anyway. "i'm getting dressed and then checking on our daughter."

"she's probably still asleep," you say as you lay your head on the cool porcelain edge of the tub.

"then i won't be gone long," san tells you before ducking back out of the bathroom. you keep your head on the tub though, admiring him from afar. you love having him here, you think. you wonder if he'd be ok with staying longer than just a weekend.

while san took care of violet, you got an idea. you enjoyed the rest of your bath, but as soon as you were dressed you got down to business.

you were buried amongst boxes, piles of clothes, and shoes you'd never wear when san and violet come looking for you. you hear violet run into your bedroom calling for you with san right behind her, not sure if you were decent or not. when they don't see you in the bedroom, san peeks into the bathroom as vi goes for your closet, and she giggles when she sees you on the floor.

"mommy, what are you doing?" she asks, kneeling down in the mess anyway.

"i'm cleaning out my closet, bug," you answer. you push a box toward her and say, "call for your dad, i want him to look through those."

"i'm right here," san appears, popping his head through the door. he looks at you quizzically, then decides to go with it and kneel next to violet.

"i'm cleaning out my closet," you repeat. "i want you to go through that box next to vi, that's all of her work from preschool. you can keep any of it that you want."

"really?"

"yeah, we've got plenty of it around the house, and i've basically made wallpaper out of it for my office, so i figured you might like some," you shrug.

"thank you baby," he smiles, dimples on full display. you watch fondly as he settles on the ground, violet climbing into his lap almost as a reflex. they sit together and go through everything, violet giving commentary on what she remembers and calling on you to explain what she doesn't. you're constantly in motion, trying to organize your clothes and make piles of what you can donate. you turn to your family every so often for opinions, violet giving it to you straight when she thinks something is ugly, and san being no help at all. he just says you'll look great in whatever you're holding up, and borders on compliments too vulgar for your daughter to hear. it's a good thing violet knows how to speak her mind, because with her brutal honesty and a good idea of what clothes will drive san insane, you're left with the perfect amount of clothes.

you won't take any outside input on which shoes to donate, though. that's a personal decision for you, and san is smart enough to stay out of it. violet, on the other hand, picks up her favorite shoes and tries them on, laughing with glee when she trips and san has to dive to catch her. she asks if she can keep some of the shoes for herself, but knowing how expensive they are, you try to find nice ways to tell her to back off. san promises to buy her "mommy shoes" and that seems to satisfy her, but now she's bored and wants to go play. you shoot san a sympathetic glance as he's pulled out of the closet by your hyperactive kid, and then you're alone. you step back and look at the space you were able to clear, and you think that should be enough for san's things. you can always use the hall closet if he needs more space, but he's a man, how many clothes does he need?

"hey," he whispers from behind you, making you jump. you would turn around to talk to him, but he wraps his arms around you and sways your bodies from side to side as he informs you, "i got her set up with a movie. i love that girl, but i needed a break."

"thank you for giving me the morning to myself," you tell him, leaning your head back on his shoulder. you turn to place a kiss on his jaw, whispering against his skin, "you're so wonderful to me. and to violet. we're very lucky ladies."

"and i'm a lucky man," he responds. his eyes fall to the pile of violet's work on the floor, and he separates from you to pick it up. he shows you the stack and says, "got enough for my apartment and my office. there's not much left in the box, though."

"that's fine," you brush it off. "i needed the space in here, so."

"hey, did you eat this morning?" san asks while he tucks violet's work into his duffel bag. when he stands up fully he points an accusing finger at you. "i wore you out twice and you haven't eaten, that's not good for your health."

"you're not good for my health," you scoff. "last time i was this sore was after labor."

"sorry," san says sheepishly. he reaches for your hand and tugs you toward the door. "come on, let's get you some food and then hang with violet. i put on one of your favorites."

the rest of the weekend passes by in complete bliss. it's like that night with san bridged any gaps that timing and poor decisions might have created between you, and you've never felt more in love or more like a family than you do right now. but there's a pit in your stomach as you sit with san and violet at the dinner table, knowing that san needs to go back to his apartment tonight. he didn't pack any work clothes, so he really needs to leave, but he so doesn't want to. he wonders how many more weeks he can get by with going to his place just long enough for you to miss him and call him back home. meanwhile, you're wondering how you can inconspicuously get jen and wooyoung to help move san's things to your house on such short notice. san checks the time, and you feel the pit in your stomach tear open as he stands to leave.

"alright girls," he sighs, putting his dishes in the sink. "i guess i gotta go. need to get ready for the week."

"i'll miss you daddy," violet pouts, and san mimics her with a pout of his own.

"i'll miss you even more bug, you have no idea."

you stand and clear your own plate as violet sadly pushes her peas around with her fork, and you catch san staring at her from the doorway. "what's wrong, san?"

"i don't wanna go," he admits. his voice is so quiet you can barely hear him, but he can't say it any louder. it hurts leaving you two, and san isn't sure how many more trips he can take before his heart just kicks it.

"then don't go," you shrug. "move in with us."

"are you serious?" san asks, a smile slowly breaking across his face. he takes two steps and he's in front of you, hands on your waist, asking you again, "are you serious?"

"yeah," you nod. "violet? what do you say? should daddy stay here forever?"

"and ever?!" she adds, making san laugh, a happy squeaky sound that sends your heart soaring.

"i'll stay forever and ever and then some," he agrees. he pulls you into the tightest hug known to man, spinning you around the kitchen as he whispers to you, "this is finally happening."

"it took us long enough, right?" you whisper back, gripping onto his shirt. you squeal as san pushes you off balance, and you realize he's trying to move you toward the kitchen table. he lets go of you long enough to lift violet into his arms and smush her between you both, and then the spinning continues.

"my girls," he smiles proudly. "i love my girls."

that monday at work, san feels like superman. he woke up with your head on his chest, he ate breakfast with his girls, and he had a sing along in the car with violet as he drove her to school. he put works of violet art up in his office (and a couple on the gym bulletin board, she was very embarrassed), and he walked violet to her classroom before carpool started so he could tell jen the good news.

"hey violet!" jen greets her, and violet runs up to give her a hug. "how was your weekend?"

"good!" violet replies. "daddy spent the night, and then mommy told me he was staying forever and ever, and then this morning i saw mommy and daddy naked wrestling-"

"she saw you what?" jen hisses, and san has to look embarrassed.

"um, yeah, i wanted to celebrate my first morning moved in, so...we forgot to lock the door, and...yeah. it's been a long morning at the choi household," san explains, and jen pushes his arm surprisingly hard.

"so you moved in?!"

"kind of?" san rubs the spot jen basically punched. "y/n asked me to move in last night, so we filled our cars with some of my stuff and brought it to the house. i'll really move in this weekend."

"well, if you need me and wooyoung to help, you know where to find us," jen offers.

"you and wooyoung?" san wiggles his eyebrows, and jen nods eagerly.

"yep, we're an item now. you and y/n aren't the only ones who did some naked wrestling this weekend."

"please don't say that," san groans, and thankfully, the bell rings to alert teachers to their stations. san stoops down to kiss violet's forehead as he says goodbye, and he rushes off to his carpool spot. he hears jen say as he leaves, "violet, you need to knock before you go into mommy and daddy's room..."

you have to admit, living with san is bliss. you didn't know how easy it could be having someone else around to take care of violet, and you especially didn't know how nice it would be to have someone around to take care of you. san was quick to show his love with actions and words, and all he asked for in return was your time. if he had his way, he'd spend every second of every day with you and violet. it hurts to watch you leave for work in the mornings, and it hurts him again when he parts from violet at school. at home, he's always attached to one of you. some nights he's lucky, and he gets you both.

tonight, san stopped by the store for you on the way home because you needed some last minute things for dinner. san got what you needed, plus some wine he knew you'd like, and he got violet her favorite ice cream without her even asking. he had everything ready for you when you got home, and since violet helped get the ingredients she wanted to help cook, too. san always stays in the kitchen with you as you fix dinner, because he likes to clean up after you as you go. he claims it's efficient, but it's also a chance for you to catch up on your days. you're happy to have violet with you tonight, but it did ruin one of your mom secrets.

"what can i help with, mommy?" she asks once she's set up next to you, standing on her tippy toes on top of her step stool.

"you can help me tear the spinach to go into the spaghetti," you show her how to do it, and she copies your actions with a frown on her face.

"what's wrong bug?" san asks, given up on the dishes. he just wants to watch you and violet work together.

"where's the 'pinach going?"

"into the sauce, baby," you answer her. "i always put it into the sauce, it's yummy."

"do i like 'pinach?"

"you like it in spaghetti."

eating dinner together is one of san's favorite things, too. he loves the conversations that come out of violet, and he feels so privileged to see her personality growing and maturing before his eyes. she's an incredible kid, and san reminds you constantly that you did a phenomenal job raising her. you insist that his genes made her an angel to begin with, and that makes san blushy and shy enough to change the subject. he starts to ask you about a work thing, so there's no attention on violet for a moment. she starts giggling though, and when you turn back to her you see that she's slurped noodles so quickly that there's sauce all over her face. it reminds you of a similar mess when she was a baby, so you show san pictures and videos of baby vi that have his stomach doing flips. he asks you to send him those, and you do as he says while he and violet start to clear your plates.

you move into the living room to get ready for one of your favorite shows. it's coming back after a hiatus, so you made it clear this morning you didn't care what san and violet did as long as you got to watch. what you didn't expect was for san to come in from the kitchen with violet in his arms, dumping her down on top of you in a giggly pile. san leaves to grab your favorite blanket and takes his time tucking it around you and vi before he slides in next to you, intertwining his legs with yours and pulling you so your head will lay on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and violet, and sighs happily when he's all done.

"whatcha doin?" you turn your head to his as he flips through the channels, looking for your show.

"we're watching this show together?" he says like it's obvious. "violet told me there's cool stunts."

"and the old guy is funny!" she adds.

"see? cool stunts and a comedic grandpa, i'm sold," san says, kissing the top of your head as the show starts.

"ok, but no talking until the commercial breaks," you mumble, pulling san's arm further around your shoulders so you can hold his hand over your chest.

"is that the old guy?" san asks a minute later.

"baby," you whine. "i said no talking!"

"i have to go potty," violet says a few minutes after that, climbing over the pile of her parents. san watches her go then turns to you, calling your name.

"sannie, please, it's almost a commercial-"

"i want another one," he whispers excitedly, and you look confused for a second before it clicks.

"another kid?" you confirm, and he nods eagerly. "right now? i don't think we have time-"

"no baby," he chuckles. "just. whenever. but sooner rather than later, please. i want at least three, so-"

"three?!" you shriek. "that's a lot of kids for me to push out of my-"

"daddy, can i have some ice cream?" violet asks as she returns from the bathroom.

"of course baby," he responds, sliding his limbs from under and around you slowly. he comes back with violet quickly, and she plops down next to you with san on her other side. they eat in silence, which you're thankful for since your show is back on, but san calls your name and you stifle a groan. you look up to find him holding a spoonful of ice cream out for you, and you let him feed it to you with a soft look in his eyes. he wipes a dribble from the side of your mouth, presenting his finger to you. he tells you with his eyes to taste that next, and as you stare up at him and suck on his finger, you feel your skin erupt in goosebumps. you let go of his finger with a pop and then basically hide under the blanket until the show is over.

as the credits roll, you look to san and see violet curled up in his side, the empty ice cream tub long forgotten. san's carefully stroking violet's back, and when he catches you staring he reaches a hand out for you. you grab it, bringing his knuckles to your lips so you can kiss each one before speaking. against his skin, you whisper, "i'm ready to have another kid with you. but let's start with one, ok?"

agreeing to have another kid with san might have been a bad idea. if you thought he was all over you before, now he really can’t keep his hands off you. it's a sisyphean task getting him out of bed in the morning. he grabs onto whenever you pass each other in the house, stealing kisses that he hopes will lead to more. he's rushing through bedtimes with violet so you can have more "mommy daddy time" in violet's words. it's so bad even your kid has noticed! but....you're not complaining. you pretend to hate it, you pretend to resist just to give in later, but really you're eating this up. a match made in heaven, you two!

after a particularly active morning, you decided to work from home for the day. you were feeling under the weather anyway, so it was nice having the option. especially on days like today when san forgets his lunch. he called you about an hour into his day in a panic, already whining that he was going to starve to death. you roll your eyes but listen intently before offering to bring it to him. halfway through the call you found his lunchbox looking lonely in the fridge, so you were happy to spend your lunch break doing something for san. before you head out, you tear off a paper towel and write him a little note like you do when you pack violet's lunch, and then you're out the door.

san said he would be in his office, so you park in the teacher lot and make the short walk to the gym. it's its own building behind the school, so it's quiet as you make your way to san. your footsteps echo on the wooden floor, and an eager san slides out of his office in his desk chair. like an excited puppy, he jogs to meet you halfway and wraps you in a hug, peppering kisses over your face along with whispered thanks.

"what would i do without you, baby?" he asks.

"starve, apparently," you tease, pinching his cheek. "so i guess i'll see you at home?"

"eat lunch with me," he begs, not giving you a chance to answer. he takes the lunchbox in one hand and wraps his other around your waist, leading you to his office. he sits in the rolling chair and walks it back over to his desk while you stand at the door. "you waitin for an invite, doll? get in here."

"where do i sit?" you ask, semi-distracted by the way san has decorated his office. your heart warms seeing so much of violet's work in here, and you blush as you notice the pictures san has printed of you and violet to tack up along with her art. san hasn't replied, so you turn to find him patting his lap with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and you just laugh at him. "i'll stand."

"at least stand closer to me," he whines. "so far away over there."

you sigh, but walk to his desk anyway. you hop up so you're sitting on the one space free of junk, but that puts you directly in front of san. he opens your legs slightly, and you feel your heart rate spike, but he just scoots closer and starts unpacking his lunch. you watch as he focuses on tearing his sandwich equally, his tongue caught between his teeth as he works. you take this time to snatch his chips, feeding one or two to san as he searches for a napkin to wrap your sandwich in. he finds the note you stuffed in there and smiles, a blush creeping over his cheeks as his dimples appear.

"what's this?" he asks in a squeaky voice.

"reminder of how much i love you," you shrug.

"i love you too," san says happily as he straightens the napkin. "thanks for bringing my lunch."

"you said that already."

"well let me thank you another way?" he asks, his hands drifting to your knees and sliding up your thighs. you try to close your legs, pushing him off, but his grip is stronger than yours.

"san, there's kids here."

"so? we're trying to make one-"

"sannie!" you hiss. "no! not at school."

"but no one's gonna be anywhere near the gym for another thirty minutes!"

"what about wooyoung? or jen? don't they come check on you when you don't eat lunch in the teacher's lounge?"

"they can deal," san says, leaning down to trail kisses up your leg. as much as you want to, and god you want to, you can't. not here. so you use your foot to catch the rolling chair and push san back. he thuds into his bulletin board with an "oof!" and you laugh as you hop down. "what are you doing? come back here-"

"ah, i'll see you at home," you tell him. you're almost to the door when he catches up with you, holding onto your waist like his life depends on it.

"just one kiss before you go," he whispers, and you feel yourself nodding before you can say no. he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, moaning as he slides his hands around to grip your ass, but you grab his hands and pull them off of you. you give him one last kiss and then you step back, pointing a finger at him as you say, "you are trouble, mr. choi."

"and you're sexy, mrs. choi," he smirks, watching you leave.

"not your missus!" you shout back, turning to catch him still watching you walk away. he waves teasingly, blowing a kiss that you catch and place over your heart. "i'll see you at home, you crazy man."

san tried using the rest of his lunch to plan, but you were right - jen and wooyoung came to find him before lunch ended, so it's really a good thing you didn't take up his offer to fuck in his office. wooyoung makes himself at home, playing with some of the loose equipment as jen asks why san didn't show for lunch.

"i forgot my lunch, so y/n had to bring it to me," he explains, and wooyoung gasps.

"you had sex in here!" he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at san.

"no, we didn't," san sighs. "but i wanted to."

"y/n said no?" jen asks, and san nods. "of course she was the voice of reason."

"what do you both want?" san asks. "shouldn't you be with your classes right now?"

"there's an assembly after lunch, so they're the vp's responsibility," wooyoung smiles evilly. "so you didn't even get some head while y/n was here?"

"wooyoung!" jen shrieks, and he shuts up. "sorry he's disgusting."

"i'm more sorry for you, you're dating the guy," san teases, and jen blushes. "so you both came here to bother me? no other reason?"

"i suspected you had a visit from the milf, so i came to get the low down on that," wooyoung replies.

"and if y/n was here i wanted to talk to her," jen says. "i need to have one conversation with someone sane today."

"you're talking to me!" san says, and jen laughs. "ouch."

"whatever man," wooyoung says as he walks toward the door. "if you're gonna lie and say nothing happened here, then i'm outie 5000."

"actually, i do want to tell you something," san starts nervously. "it's nothing saucy, but i think i need your help. both of you."

"anything," jen says, and wooyoung nods in agreement.

"great," san smiles. "well, uh, i think i'm going to propose to y/n..."

there's a daddy daughter dance at the end of the week. san, of course, will be taking violet. that means you need to go shopping! violet needs a new dress, and san has to buy a shirt that matches. violet chose a light purple, her favorite, and insisted on you getting something that color, too. since you were just spending the night at home, you tried to buy a light purple pajama set, but san vetoed it. he made you pick out a dress of your own despite you saying you won't wear it but for five minutes.

"but now we have a family outfit," san smiles. "we can wear it all the time."

"violet, your dad is embarrassing," you say to your daughter, and she nods.

"whatever," he sighs, taking the clothes from you and violet anyway. "i'm just excited to do family stuff with you."

"is family stuff like mommy daddy stuff?" violet asks, and you let san handle that one. you've stopped at the jewelry section, wondering if you can find a necklace for violet to wear. you play with the charm around your neck now, the heart necklace violet gave you. as you're spinning the display around, you hear two sets of footsteps come up behind you.

"whatcha doin mommy?" violet asks, tugging on your hand. you pick her up and point to one of the necklaces, answering, "trying to find something that matches your new dress. do you like this?"

"ooo, yes," she nods at the flower charm you're showing her. "can daddy have one too?"

"not sure that's my style, bug," san squints at the necklace.

"and it's a kid size, it wouldn't fit around your beefy neck," you point out. you look around and your eyes light up as they fall on what you're looking for. you grab violet's necklace and head to a display of rings, holding the necklace up to find something that goes with it. "daddy can wear a ring to match with you at the dance. how's that sound vi?"

you get an enthusiastic yes from her, so the three of you look quietly for a moment. san holds something up and asks what you think, but you shake your head.

"that's too dainty for you," you say.

"for you," san corrects. "do you like it for you?"

"hmm," you inspect the ring, and shake your head. "no, i think i prefer gold jewelry."

"what about this?" san holds up another ring, and you like this one. it's a simple gold band with a purple gem set on a raised back, but you nod and offer san your left hand since violet is currently occupying your other arm. san slides the ring onto your ring finger, but it won't get past your knuckle. san tries his best, but it won't budge, and you can't help but laugh. "hmph. you have chubby fingers."

"hey!" you whine, "that's what having a kid does to you. parts of your body are never the same again."

"really?" san asks. "i never knew that."

"yeah, there's a lot of weird stuff that happens with pregnancy," you shrug. "but i got used to it."

"you'll have to tell me everything soon," san says, cupping your head to pull you in for a forehead kiss. he's distracted now, thinking about something else, and starts to turn back in the direction of the registers when violet reminds him, "daddy! the rings!"

"oh right, thanks bug," he winks at her, and you kiss violet's cheek in thanks. san finds a bigger size and tries it for good measure. it's a perfect fit.

"do you still want a ring?" you ask san, and he searches for a moment before holding one out to you.

"what about this?" he passes it to you, and you cock your head in confusion. "what? you don't like it?"

"hm, i like it," you tell him. "it goes with mine."

"even better," san smiles.

the night of the dance can't get here soon enough. violet has been bouncing off the walls excited for it all week, and you know san is looking forward to it too. he told you that he gets stuck overseeing the dance every year because it's in the gym, and he admitted this was the kind of thing he dreamt of taking his own kid to some day. he seems a little nervous though, which you think is sweet.

because he had to plan the dance, the week leading up to it is a busy one at your house. san is constantly stepping outside to take calls, and he's running off to errands throughout the week to make sure everything is perfect. he's taken over the coat closet, claiming there's things in there violet can't see, but he won't let you look in there, either. one afternoon, he catches you peeking and turns a bright red.

"what are you doing!" he squeaks. "you can't see this!"

"why not?" you laugh. "i'm not going to the dance."

"yeah, but if you see it, and then violet asks what you saw, you'll tell her-"

"i'm not a snitch," you scoff.

"well you're usually on her side," san rolls his eyes.

"hey, i'm on your side all the time, babe," you assure him. "but girls gotta stick together, so i guess you have a point."

"exactly," san sighs, checking that the closet is closed before pulling you in for a hug. he inhales deeply and lets out a breath of relief once you're wrapped around him, and you rub his back soothingly.

"you're doing a great job, my love," you tell him. "it's gonna be a great night, everyone will have so much fun, and it'll be all thanks to you."

"i hope you're right," san says, and he hopes you don't catch the quiver of nerves in his voice. he also hopes you can't feel the box of the engagement ring poking out of his pocket. you caught him before he could slip it into the closet, and he's starting to sweat having you so close to it. even though he doesn't want to, he slowly lets you go, stroking your hair as he gets an idea, "hey, can i ask you to do something for me?"

"anything."

"anything?" he smirks, and you smack his arm. "no, i was wondering if you could make pancakes for dinner?"

"really? that's it?" you ask, but he nods like he's completely serious.

"i hear you're better at them now," he teases. "but, i don't know, i've just been so stressed this week, and that's like a comfort meal for me-"

"oh sannie, yes, yes i'll make you pancakes," you promise. "you want chocolate chips?"

"i love you," he says as he nods vehemently. you giggle as you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek.

"dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes then," you tell him. "unless i burn the house down, then we're just going to waffle house."

it's the night of the dance. to anyone walking by, it might sound like your house is having a party, but it's just you blaring music while everyone gets ready. you're already in your dress, so you're helping violet while san showers. he was so jumpy when he got home, you're really worried about him. this dance must have been a lot of work for him, so you're glad he'll get to rest when it's done. once san and violet leave, you've got a riveting night of laundry ahead of you so san can come home to a clean, comfy bed to collapse in. you know he'll need it after the week he's had.

you're mentally trying to organize the loads of laundry you have to do while you work on violet's hair. she's digging through your make up bag because you promised she could use eye shadow and lip gloss tonight, and you're both humming along to the music. you don't hear her stop and say something to you, and you certainly don't hear whoever is knocking at the door. violet twists around to look at you, ruining the heart shape you were trying to pull her hair into.

"aw, vi, now i have to start over-"

"mommy, someone's knocking on the door," she cuts you off. you reach for your phone to turn the music down, and she's right, there's someone frantically knocking at the front door. you walk out warily, unsure of who it could be, but you spot a flash of jen's hair through the window. when you open the door, she looks relieved.

"good, you're dressed," she breathes out. upon further inspection, she frowns and says, "but you haven't done your hair? no make up? y/n we're gonna be late."

"what?" you're confused. late for what?

"san didn't tell you? we need you to chaperone the dance," jen explains as she steps inside. that's when you notice she's dressed up too. "one of the fifth grade teachers was supposed to help me with the photo booth, but she's puking everywhere-"

"ew, gross," you stop her. "i mean, san didn't tell me anything, but i guess i can help? i'm not doing anything tonight." looks like you needed this dress after all!

"great," jen smiles. "now about your hair..."

seconds later, violet is standing in front of you while you sit on a kitchen chair as jen works on your hair for you. you're still trying to finish violet's, and then you need to help her with the make up she picked out. you could care less how you look, you'd rather violet get the pampering she wants, but jen is insisting that you "at least need to look put together tonight."

"hey, is san still here?" you ask suddenly. "i don't hear the shower anymore, but he's being awfully quiet if he's home."

"his car wasn't here when i pulled up," jen shrugs. "ok, hair's done! now where's your make up?"

"in violet's room," you reply. she goes to grab it, and when she returns you're done with violet's hair. "how's our girl look?"

"just as beautiful as her momma," jen replies, and she laughs when you and violet blush the same way.

"careful, i'm a taken woman," you warn.

"i could totally take san in a fight for your hand."

"wooyoung would be pretty upset though," you remind her, and now it's her turn to blush. "is he gonna be there tonight?"

"yeah, he's helping san with some of the set up i think."

"so what time do we need to get there?" you ask as you work on vi's make up. "keep your eyes closed, baby."

"ok mommy."

"um, we might need to leave soon," jen barely answers your question.

"that's vague."

"we should leave in fifteen minutes."

"shit, ok," you mumble, then you catch yourself. "jen, can you find my purse? put a quarter in the jar on the counter please."

"two," violet corrects you. "you said the fuck word when the elastic in my hair snapped."

"violet!" you and jen screech.

"now you need to put a quarter in the swear jar," jen jokes, but you have to lecture violet on not using those words while you finish up her eye shadow. you ask her to purse her lips so you can do the lip gloss, and jen says, "she really looks like san, doesn't she?"

"yeah, she does," you smile proudly. "they're both pretty cute, huh?"

"if you have another kid do you think it'll look like you?"

"we'll have to wait and see i guess," you say as you cap the lip gloss. "vi, go like this," and you show her how to rub the lip gloss in. she gets it all over her lips, so you lick your thumb to wipe it off as she tries to squirm away. "alright, my turn. can you show jen where your shoes are baby? i'll finish getting ready if you can help her with shoes and maybe a jacket."

"on it," jen nods. "we gotta leave in ten!"

as promised, ten minutes later, you and violet are in jen's car. you wanted the fun to continue for violet, so you've got music playing as jen speeds toward the school. she kept saying you weren't late, but the way she's driving you wonder if she's lying.

a few minutes later, you can see the school in the distance. you don't know why, but your stomach starts doing flips at the idea of seeing san. you know he's going to look great, so that's enough to make you all excited, but you're more interested in seeing what he's worked so hard on all week. you're staring at the gym as it gets closer, and then jen drives right past the school entirely.

"um, hello?" you call out. "earth to jen? we just passed the school."

"we're not going to the school," jen says simply. what's going on? you look to violet in the backseat, but she's staring out the window, kicking her feet the way you know she does when she's excited. you sit back with a "humph!" and watch as jen drives you to the park down the street. she pulls into the gravel lot and turns off her car before turning to you. "get out."

"what? jen, what is going on?" you ask, but jen is out of the car and won't respond. you're confused as hell, but you unbuckle your seatbelt anyway as jen gets violet out of her car seat. jen meets you at the back of her car, pointing off to the path in the distance.

"you need to go over there."

"i'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening," you stand firm.

"come on mommy!" violet chirps. she holds her tiny hand out to you, and you look to jen. she just smiles, so you take violet's hand and walk with her to the wooded path.

"baby, where are we going?" you ask, but violet shakes her head and mimes zipping her lips. can't argue with that, so you succumb to the circumstances and follow her lead. you're looking around, trying to catch any kind of clue. as you come over a hill, you see a clearing in the distance, and you gasp when you see what's waiting for you.

underneath an ivy covered arch stands san. he's dressed in his outfit for the dance, dark grey slacks and a vest with the light purple shirt underneath. he left his hair natural, how you like it, so the ends of his bangs just barely brush over his glittering eyes. he's smiling at you so brightly he could be the sun, and you look down to find violet smiling back at him the same way.

as you get closer, you notice the flower bushes are all violets. san must have brought more though, because there's flower pots and bouquets all around. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, admiring the soft scent flooding your senses. when you open your eyes, san is approaching you shyly, and violet squeezes your hand. you squeeze back even tighter.

"hi gorgeous," he greets you, his voice soft and quiet, like he doesn't want to disturb this moment. he leans in to kiss your cheek, then kneels and says to violet, "you look beautiful, my love. thank you for your help."

"you knew about this?" you ask violet, and she looks to san before she responds.

"YES! daddy told me all these secrets and said mommy can't know, and if i pinky promised not to tell then he would get me the princess bed i want," she explains rapidly, and you look to a sheepish san.

"i'm not proud of the bribe, but she did a good job. you had no idea?"

"san, what is this?" you ask in a nervous whisper. he lifts violet into his arms and then offers you a hand. as he walks you over to a bench beneath the ivy arch, he begins.

"this was my favorite park as a kid," he says as he sits you down and carefully places violet between you. he holds onto your hand as he speaks, his thumb stroking over your knuckles softly. "and when i moved back here after college, this was the first place i came. i missed you so much already, and i needed someplace to clear my head. i found myself here a lot, actually. i would walk the entire path just thinking about you, wondering how you were, wondering if i should reach out, try to make things right. it became a habit. i'd come here every time i missed you, and i wouldn't leave until i got you off my mind. then, out of nowhere, you show up at school. i noticed you, that first day. i noticed violet," and as he says her name he boops her nose. over her giggles, he continues.

"i saw her walking in and thought, man, that kid sure looks like me," san smiles sadly, and you squeeze his hand. "so as soon as school ended, i was over here, pacing and wondering again how i could reach out. then i caught you parking in the wrong spot-"

"i didn't know where else to go!" you defend yourself, and san chuckles.

"you not knowing where to go worked in my favor, because it was like someone shouting in my face, hey! here she is! don't lose this chance! so i knew i had to wiggle my way back into your life somehow. it wasn't until you mentioned violet, her name, that i felt something inside me. again, i came back here, to this spot, and thought about what to do. as i sat here, i noticed all the violets around me, and i knew. i've always thought we were meant to be together, but that day i knew for sure. i wanted to be in your life. in violet's life. forever."

"and ever," violet whispers, making you and san both laugh. as you quiet down, you stare at san, and that warm feeling you get in his presence rushes over you. finally, you think. finally finally finally.

it's like san can read your mind, because he nods before tugging you back up to your feet. violet holds onto your hand as you both watch san reach into his pocket, and even though you knew it was coming, it still takes your breath away. san kneels, holding out a velvet box. he takes a deep breath and says, "y/n. my love. my best friend. you're the love of my life, and i can't imagine our story ending any other way. will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? will you marry me, finally?" he opens the box to reveal the perfect ring, and you're nodding before you can even speak.

you look at san's glistening eyes, his happy smile, and you cry out, "yes, san, oh my god, yes, i'll marry you." san pulls you down to smash his lips into yours, but you can barely keep the smile off your face long enough to actually feel his lips against yours. you end up kneeling in front of san, wrapping him in the tightest hug as you start to cry. you feel violet's tiny arms working their way around you both, so you separate and cover her in kisses to her delighted giggles. you hug them both, holding onto your family so tight it almost hurts.

"wait, wait!" san cries out. "the ring! gimme your hand!"

you present your left hand to him as he takes the ring out, and you love the way it glitters in the setting sunlight. he slides it onto your ring finger, interlocking his hand with yours. as you admire your hand in his, you hear cheers off in the distance.

you look around to find jen and wooyoung just outside the clearing. wooyoung is holding a camera, and jen is smiling like she just pulled off the heist of the century. as they get closer, violet runs over to jen and they jump and squeal, something about secrets and another bribe you'll have to learn about later.

"so everyone knew about this but me?" you ask san, and he brushes hair behind your ear as jen and wooyoung join you.

"sorry, but that's the way it had to be," san shrugs.

"you were so surprised," wooyoung says, "i can't wait to edit these pictures, i think i got a really funny one of you when he pulled the ring out."

"i'll make sure he only keeps the good ones," jen cuts in, but you shake your head.

"you send me every single picture you took," you say sternly, and wooyoung salutes you as he says, "aye aye mrs. choi!"

"oh my god," you turn to san then. "i'm gonna be your wife."

"yeah you are," he smiles proudly. "'bout time."

"oh, what time is it?" you ask. "don't we need to go to the dance?"

"baby, there is no dance," san admits. "i made that up so you wouldn't be suspicious of all the calls and errands without you."

"you sneak," you slap his arm. "and involving our daughter!"

"we got you," violet giggles, looking up at you as she wraps her hands around your legs. you pinch her nose and she squeals.

"well, what do we do now?" you ask. "i don't know what engaged people do."

"i've got an idea," wooyoung says suggestively, and jen groans.

"actually, i was going to take us to dinner," san says, reaching for you and violet. "we need to celebrate!"

"that's our cue to leave," jen says to wooyoung, but san stops them.

"nope," he shakes his head. "you helped. i owe you dinner."

"well if you insist," wooyoung smiles, wrapping his arm around jen. you all start walking back to your cars, jen and wooyoung ahead of your family. you and san are walking with violet between you, hands swinging happily.

"hey," san whispers, and you find his handsome face smiling at you. "are you happy?"

"happier than i've ever been, san."

"good," he nods. "sorry for all the secrets, though."

"whatever," you brush it off. "but, uh, i guess i have a secret of my own to share?"

san stops in his tracks, worry in his eyes. jen and wooyoung stop too, hearing the lack of footsteps behind them. everyone is watching you, and you look at each of them with a growing smile on your face. you end with san, and you blush as you say, "my love, my husband to be, i'm pregnant."

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theemporium · 6 months ago

Note

Hi! So excited for the drinks special! May I please order a number 57 Violet Fluff with Jack Hughes? Please and thank you!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

57. “One date, that’s all I’m asking for. One night to let me show you how good we could be together.”

“Today is the day!”

Luke shot him a look from the passenger seat. “You say that every single time and it never is.”

“Stop being pessimistic, you’re ruining my good juju!”

The younger boy just sighed deeply.

The routine between the brothers wasn’t new. Unfortunately, it had been going on for the better part of the last few months—the exact time that had passed since you started working in the coffee shop the brothers frequented before practice.

It was like a written script by this point: Jack would announce today would be the day he asked you out, Luke would call his bluff, they would go in to get their coffees, Jack would freeze, Luke would pay, and then Jack would mope for the rest of the drive to the rink.

At first, it had been funny to Luke. Something about watching his usually confident, suave brother become a hopeless fool in front of a pretty girl was great entertainment to the early morning starts they had. But it was getting sad now and Luke was losing his goddamn mind over hearing Jack talk endlessly about you.

So, he decided to take matters into his own hands and shake up the routine a little.

“My brother Jack likes you and has an important question for you!”

It all happened so quickly that it took Jack a few seconds to even process what his brother had just said. He blinked, watching as Luke quickly ran off back to the car before he turned to look at you, your lips parted in surprise. And then he felt his face burn up when he realised what Luke had just announced to the whole coffee shop—you, your colleague and the one other customer in the corner.

“I–uh—he—”

You watched the boy helplessly stutter out a response with words he couldn’t find.

“Is your brother telling the truth or is he just messin’ with you?” You eventually asked, something in your stomach swirling as you awaited his response.

“Yes! No! He—” Jack paused, taking a moment to compose himself before he spoke. “He’s telling the truth. I like you. A lot.”

You bit back your smile. “And your important question?”

“I—date?” He managed to mutter out, a bit pathetically even if you did giggle a little. He hoped it was more endearing than embarrassing. “One date, that’s all I’m asking for. One night to let me show you how good we could be together.”

“Alright, Jack,” you nodded, trying to come off a little more collected than you felt. “One date.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“My shift ends at six,” you told him as you reached for a napkin, scribbling your number and name down before passing it to him. “But I have the day off tomorrow.”

Jack bit down on his lower lip, though it did nothing to hide the grin splitting across his face. “This is gonna be the best date of your life, trust me!”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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elspethdekarios · 1 month ago

Text

Atonement

Hello fellow Solavellan sufferers!!! I've written a little fic about what I imagine goes down between Solas and Lavellan once the game is over. I'll have you know I listened to the Lost Elf Theme on repeat while writing it, if that tells you anything. Anyway, read below the cut or on AO3 here!

SFW, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,821

! HUGE VEILGUARD SPOILERS !

When she stepped into the Fade, hand in hand with her love, Sulah had no preconceived notion of what to expect on the other side, nor did she spend a moment speculating about what it could possibly be. She was with Solas, after all, and there was no use in trying to predict his actions. It was funny, really—how she found him predictable and surprising all in the same. No, there was little use trying to guess where in the Fade he would lead them. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she would have ever expected this.

The pocket of the Fade they walked into was dull and gray as stone. In fact, most of it was stone. Fragments of buildings and debris floated slowly through the foggy sky above. Tendrils of winding roots grew up through cracks in the stone. There were staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, and twisted, barren trees clinging to broken columns and walls. The air was so still it felt stifling in Sulah’s lungs. And Solas, downtrodden and bruised, looked like he belonged there. Like he was part of the backdrop. As if he could hear her thoughts, he spoke.

“It is a reflection of what I am. What I don't want to be.” He paused, dropping his head. “What I don't want to face.”

“This is how you atone?”

“I told you it would be terrible.”

“And I told you forever.” Sulah turned to him, heart aching for the bloodied mess of his face. “I meant it.”

Solas lifted his head enough to look at her through glassy, violet eyes. “I don’t deserve you, vhenan.”

“I think that’s up to me,” she said, wiping away a stray tear on his cheek. “Let’s talk, my love. Before you start making your amends.”

They sat with their backs against a nearby stone wall. Solas’s eyes alternated between being heavy with sleep and haunting despair. He looked so much older than she remembered him—not physically, really, but in the way he seemed to be held down with millennia of burden. On the other hand, he had the heartbreaking demeanor of a child unable to emotionally grasp the multitude of his feelings.

“I don’t know… where to start,” he breathed. With one look at her, a hint of hope glimmered amongst the sadness in his eyes. “I have missed you. Desperately so.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Sulah’s voice cracked as she spoke, a stream of tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and smiled sadly. “So let’s start there, shall we?”

His kiss tasted of salt and metal. She didn’t care about the wounds on his face or the small gash on his lip still swelling with blood. It had been a decade since she tasted him, touched him, spoke to him. Even though she knew he visited in her dreams, he never made contact—only watched, a dark figure in the distance. How she longed to reach out for him every time, to pull him close and find solace in his arms like she used to. Sulah crawled in front of him, her knees aching as they pressed into the cold stone, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a brief hesitation, Solas rested his hands on her waist, his touch timid at first, like he was afraid of doing something wrong. But his touch grew more confident by the second, and soon his arms were wrapped around her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been restored, held in place by molten gold.

“I don’t know that I can possibly tell you all of it. Perhaps I could… show you, instead.” With a single thought, Solas willed into the Fade a blue crystal statuette of a wolf, not unlike the one Sulah found when his ritual failed. He held it, concentrated on it, and its core radiated bright blue magic. He held the figure out to her. As Sulah took it from him, their destitute surroundings swirled and dissolved, leaving her in front of a young Solas. His face was not quite so worn with pain and exhaustion like the one she knew. Long, auburn hair cascaded down the center of his head, falling over his shoulder as he turned to face the other elf in front of him.

“Solas, how could you?” the other elf asked. His skin was tan, his hair was dark, and his face was marked with Mythal’s branching vallaslin. The same branches that Sulah had tattooed underneath her eyes.

“I do not expect you to understand, Felassan,” Solas said, standing tall and proud as ever. “It was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.”

“You knowingly sent those spirits to their deaths!” Felassan shouted. “We’re supposed to be better than this.”

Felassan spoke to Solas with the intimacy and confidence of a close friend, unafraid to confront his wrongdoings. Sulah could make out a hint of remorse in Solas’s eyes before his face hardened into a scowl.

“I did what had to be done.”

The scene dissipated. Ruins were replaced with the glorious landscape of ancient Arlathan, sprawling greenery among grand, floating palaces. Solas argued with an elven woman who Sulah now recognized as Mythal. She was identical to the spirit fragment she had seen before stepping into the Fade with Solas, only solid and real. The words they spoke were jumbled, as if Solas couldn’t remember the exact things said when he transferred the memory to the statue, but Sulah knew what they were discussing all the same: the Blight. Solas protested, pleaded with Mythal, before finally giving in to her demands.

“I will follow you always,” he said. Sulah had never heard him sound so defeated. A distinct and overwhelming sense of shame settled over her as the scene faded.

The memories continued like this, one after the other, each one brief but enough to show her the actions that haunted him. And enough to leave her with thousands of questions. She saw his regrets from centuries ago—memories of Mythal, Elgern’an, Ghilan’nain, the other Evanuris. She saw him destroy the legacy of the titans, and the corruption that introduced the Blight to the world. She saw his sorrow at the creation of the Veil, the loss of the world he knew, the unbreakable tether he had to Mythal, similar to a commandeering mother and a child eager to please her, desperate for her approval. She saw his plans to give Corypheus the orb go awry, the conflict raging inside of him as he fell in love with Sulah, the way he almost told her the truth that night in Crestwood. She felt the guilt he carried afterwards—that he still carried. She saw him devise his devious plan to mold Rook into someone the prison would take in his place. His betrayal and desperation.

She saw the despair in his eyes when he killed Varric.

Sulah stood on the raised platform where Solas orchestrated his ritual, watching as Varric climbed the stairs in an attempt to stop his friend. Even in a memory, the air was charged with powerful magic, culminating in a swirling wind that blew her hair into her face, obscuring her view. She could only make out fragments of the argument.

“You need to listen—”

“You have come a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric—”

“—able to give me a straight answer—”

“—rather than admit this is mine to solve—”

“—who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

Varric’s last statement stung like a knife. His words echoed as time slowed. Sulah felt the heavy burden of self doubt imbued in Solas’s memory as the two men locked eyes, their argument hanging in the air between them. In a chaotic flash, several things happened: Solas turned to continue the ritual, Varric attempted to pry the lyrium dagger from Solas’s hands, and the monuments of the Evanuris surrounding the ritual site began to fall. Somewhere in the chaos, while wrenching the dagger back from Varric’s grasp, the blade pierced through his chest. The sound of ripping flesh. The gasp from Varric’s mouth.

“NO!” Sulah shouted. Time had slowed, and she rushed to catch him as he stumbled, forgetting that it was no use. Her arms moved through him like a ghost.

Solas watched his friend fall to the bottom of the stairs, regret bubbling up inside of him at what he’d done. And still, the sense of doubt from Varric’s words lingered, sullying Solas’s certainty as innocent blood seeped through the fabric of his gloves.

He steeled himself with cold resolve and turned away.

The gray of the Fade prison came back into view. Sulah felt like she had been in Solas’s memories for hours, but neither her body nor his had moved from the ground against the wall. He watched her with bated breath, his jaw clenched, eyes glossy with fresh tears. Moments ago, she watched him command a rebellion, steadfast and resolute and proud. A powerful god among mortals. But the Solas in front of her now held little of the immense ancient spirit she’d seen. He was only a man, broken from the weight of his regrets.

“I cannot ask for your forgiveness, vhenan. Not even your understanding.” His voice broke, his next words spoken through a sob. “I am so sorry that I let you fall in love with a monster.”

Solas hugged his knees to his chest. His hands shook and his body trembled as he cried. It was pure, raw, searing emotion—and it was the first time she had ever seen him lose control of himself. Sulah had been lonely for years, yearning for the man who felt like home while sleeping cold in an empty bed, but she’d never felt as alone as she felt now, sitting in the vast emptiness of the Fade with a god shedding centuries’ worth of repressed agony that she could never possibly comprehend. He was the one who always seemed to know what to do, who had a plan for everything. He was the one more familiar with the Fade than the waking world. But he was also the one who had to face his regrets. His pain. And he had already proven that he couldn’t do that on his own.

“Solas,” she said, quiet and sad. “You killed Varric.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked through tears.

“I… I knew he was gone, but no one…” she trailed off, thinking back to the letter she received from Morrigan shortly after she met Rook and the others. Varric was gravely injured in an altercation. He did not make it. I am sorry you have to find out this way. “No one told me it was by your hand.”

“They were protecting you,” he said. “From the truth of what I am. Perhaps they shouldn’t have done so.”

Sulah sat in silence, trying to piece it all together in her mind.

“I never meant to hurt Varric,” Solas whispered. “I have harmed so many people, innocent people, and Varric… Varric….”

He stopped speaking and rested his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall on his armor.

“My love—”

“How can you possibly still love me, Sulah?” he snapped, a wolf showing his fangs. “I deserve whatever cruel fate awaits me here. You do not.”

“Solas—”

“Would you truly—”

“Let me speak,” she said, stern and commanding. Her Inquisitor voice, the other members liked to call it. It worked. Solas nodded for her to continue. “To heal from your past, you have to confront it. It will be painful, but you must. Tell me about Varric.”

Solas sighed and let his head fall back to the wall, the apex of his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Varric was a good man. He was my friend.” He closed his eyes and Sulah watched as a single tear ran down his bloodied face. She tried to hold back her own tears, but they streamed warm down her cheeks nonetheless.

“What would you say to him if he were here?”

“That it is one of my greatest regrets, one that I desperately wish I could take back. That I enjoyed his company on our journey years ago, and that I have missed him in the years since. And that I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Like a prayer, the final words escaped Solas’s mouth in a despondent whisper. In the distance, a structure resembling the skyline of Kirkwall crumbled. Sulah recognized it from her visit several years ago. She had only made it to Kirkwall once in the time that Varric was viscount, a position he reluctantly accepted, but one that she always suspected he secretly enjoyed. He took her to the cliffs of Sundermount, where Dalish sometimes set up camp. It looked remarkably like the area of the Free Marches her clan frequented before she left.

“I thought it might remind you of home”, he had said.

“I came here to see* your *home, Varric.”

“We’re doing that too.” he pointed across the water to the silhouetted, square buildings.

She smiled at the memory and let herself cry as the Kirkwall replica became an avalanche of stone plummeting into the abyss. When its final, broken pieces fell, Solas turned back to her and took a long breath. She looked at him, attempting to reconcile the Solas she knew and loved, the Solas in front of her now, with the Solas she saw in his memories. There was a cruel pride deep inside of him, one he tried to keep from her for so long. She could see it now, and it was fractured.

How could she possibly come to terms with all he had done? He had taken Varric away from this world, a man who, despite his faults, brought hope and friendship and humor into the world around him. She could feel the empty, aching shells of all the hearts who missed him—including her own. There were more adventures to be had, more books to be written, and Solas took it away. Away from Varric, away from the world. Sulah couldn’t bring herself to consider the even larger things he had done. The man she loved was responsible for the Blight. He tranquilized the Titans. He murdered his friends—sometimes on accident, sometimes for what he considered betrayal.

Sulah steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the air flowing in and out of her lungs. She let the world fall away until she could feel nothing but the essence of her soul spreading into her limbs, making her weightless. If Solas was a spirit of wisdom, what was she, deep down? A word stirred somewhere in the depths of her heart: patience.

“This is going to take a long time, vhenan.” Solas’s words roused her from contemplation.

“Yes,” she said. “For both of us, I think.”

For the first time since reuniting, he touched her of his own accord, studying her prosthetic arm with gentle fingers before resting his hand on her thigh beside it.

“It’s a good thing time doesn’t exist in the Fade, then.” Sulah placed her remaining hand on top of his. “To answer your earlier question, I choose to still love you despite your mistakes, Solas. I love you because I tried to move on, to meet other people, but none of them could touch whatever piece of my soul that you do. Every person I tried to give my heart to was a flimsy bandage over a gaping wound. And I had to reconcile with myself that I love someone who would tear the world apart for his own stubborn pride. I know your heart, Solas. You are more than your mistakes.”

Sulah felt as if a small part of the rift between them had stitched itself back together; a fragile scar translucent and deep, but healing nonetheless. For a moment, the insurmountable hurdles she would have to help him overcome fell away. It was just the two of them, together in the Fade like all those years ago. She knew how the world would see them: the lovestruck Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf. The cautionary tale of a Dalish girl who fell right into the jaws of Fen’Harel himself.

“Sulah,” Solas reached for her face with both hands, holding her like he had to be sure she wasn’t a mere reflection of his desire. “As long as you will have me, I swear to you: I will never abandon you again. You will have me, always.”

His kiss was soft, but charged with intention. Devotion. As they broke apart, he pulled Sulah into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ar lath ma vhenan. Bellanaris.”

#dragon age #dragon age fic #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard fic #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #datv #datv spoilers #datv fic #solas #solas spoilers #solas fic #solavellan #solavellan spoilers #da fic #my writing

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writtenfangirl · 2 years ago

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The Light: Epilogue

I wanted to see if it was possible for me to write the sweetest, most tooth-rotting fic I could ever write and I did.

Also, can I just say, I genuinely love reading people’s comments and reblogs on my fics. I write my fics as a hobby and it honestly astounds me that there are people out there who enjoy reading the things I write. It’s a privilege, seriously.

Part 1

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a large fortune, must be in want of a wife. However—“

“That is how you truly know this novel is fiction,” Benedict remarked, interrupting Y/N as she read from the book. She was laying on his lap, her back against the grass as the tree they leaned against shielded her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. It was a beautiful day in the countryside, the breeze cool despite the heat of summer. Aubrey Hall sat below them, a towering figure despite their place on the crest of a hill. She could almost see the other Bridgertons out in the lawn, lazing about and spending the day together. Benedict had strictly forbade them from approaching them today and though she loved the other Bridgertons, the quiet was a welcome respite.

They’d taken a day together, just the two of them, after Y/N’s mother had written to her about her father’s current temperament. He still refuses to acknowledge Y/N’s existence after she refused to marry the Duke of Albany and chose to marry Benedict instead and Y/N’s father had told her mother that any child borne of their marriage will not be his grandchild. The letter had brought Y/N great pain and Benedict, in an effort to make Y/N feel better, had prepared a picnic for them and a whole day without responsibilities or talks of grandchildren and babies.

Because children was something at the forefront of every person’s mind when they came upon a childless wedded couple and Y/N’s and Benedict’s lack of a child had begun to worry Violet, especially as they had been married for a year. Despite repeatedly telling Violet not to worry too much about it as they were both very young and wanted to spend the early days of their marriage child-free, she did worry.

Y/N loved the Bridgertons like they were her own family but she missed the time she spent alone with her husband. Hence, Benedict’s idea of a picnic, just the two of them.

“And why is that?” She asked as she brought the book down and quirked a brow.

“I have met a great many men who have large fortunes, most of whom do not wish to marry.”

“What an astute observation, my love.“

“Do you mean to treat me with sarcasm, Mrs. Bridgerton?” Benedict’s brow was raised high but there was no denying the amused grin pulling at his lips.

“I treat you only with the best of my affections.” But her teasing smirk betrayed her true intentions. “Now, am I allowed to continue my reading or do you intend to interrupt me once again?”

Benedict leaned his head back, before tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm. As much as I enjoy the sound of your voice, I do believe there are other activities better suited to it than reading. Although, if I were to interrupt you again, what, perhaps, would be the consequences of such an action?”

“Separate bedrooms.” Y/N’s grin could only be called devilish. She knew how much Benedict detested sleeping in separate rooms. They tried it the first two nights of their marriage before he declared that such an action was more akin to torture than rest. Ever since then, they occupied a single bedroom and it will remain that way until one of them perishes.

“What a grave consequence to such a small infraction. Very well then, my love. Continue your reading. I’d hate to have to learn to tolerate separate bedrooms.” Benedict’s face scrunched up in distaste.

“If we manage to read through the first three chapters, I will sit for you for an hour.”

Benedict’s face lightened, an almost giddy expression on his face. “Really?”

Y/N nodded, a smile gracing her lips. He’d been begging her for the past three days to once again sit for a painting as he thought the backdrop of Aubrey Hall would be beautiful, and though Y/N loved Benedict, sitting for a painting was always painful for her back. It took almost all of her concentration to sit still for the hours necessary to complete the painting and by the end of it, Y/N needed a very long and warm bath.

“Why you always choose me to be your subject is beyond me,” she said with a sniffle, “especially since my face now stands in the National Art Museum because of you. Is one painting of me not enough?”

“You have a very beautiful face. It should be shared with all of England.”

“You know how I hate myself in paintings.”

“How unfortunate for you to have married an artist enraptured by your looks.” This time, it was Benedict who’d let sarcasm run his tone, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I adore art and so a painter for a husband was the natural choice. I simply do not like myself in paintings. I love your landscapes and your portraits of others but not of me.”

Benedict frowned, a serious tone creeping on his voice. “You, my love, are a thing of beauty. The paintings I make of you will always be my favorite. When I one day perish, it is my fervent hope that my paintings of you will be the ones that live on. That it is my paintings of you that the art students of tomorrow will study, that they may learn how passion and love can heighten the beauty of one’s art. Anyone can paint a sunset or draw a landscape but no one else can paint my wife but me.”

She will never ever be used to Benedict’s sudden declarations of love. She had married an artist, that much was true but sometimes, she imagined Benedict could be a poet with the way he articulated his love for her.

“You are incorrigible, Benedict Bridgerton.” But her words couldn’t hide the rising blush of her cheeks nor could it hide the bashful smile creeping at her lips.

“For you, my love? Always.” Benedict said with that crooked grin before bending down and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Now make haste and finish your chapters before the sun disappears on us. When I paint you, I want it captured by the light. Such beauty should never be kept in the dark.”

She didn’t pretend to act irate anymore. Instead she kept reading until she ended at chapter three. And when she was done, the sun was still high in the sky yet her husband’s face had turned contemplative.

“I have finished. Shell we go inside that you may now paint?”

But Benedict only frowned, his dark brows meeting together at the center of his face, his bottom lip pushed into a pout.

“Whatever is the matter, my love? The sun is still high in the sky and you still have time to paint. And as I don’t expect you to finish your painting all too soon, you can expect me to sit for you tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that one as well until your painting is complete.”

He smiled at her, the little grin she loved so much. “Sorry, my love, my mind wandered but not towards the painting.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “Speak of what ails you, Mr. Bridgerton, that I may find its remedy.”

“I was only thinking—“

“Oh, did it hurt terribly? There, there, my love. Let me kiss your head to make it better,” Y/N teased as she reached for Benedict’s forehead in an attempt to soothe it. If there was one way to ease the mind of any Bridgerton, it was through humor.

Benedict rolled his eyes but he still had that smile on his face. “Stop it. I am being serious.” But he bowed nonetheless, pressing a kiss on his wife’s hands.

“Alright then, go on. What were you thinking of?”

“In all the years humans have existed, there have been hundreds upon thousands of ways we have told each other how much we love one another. Shakespeare measured his love with sonnets while Bach composed music and Da Vinci made art.”

Y/N frowned once again. “Where are you going with this?”

“I make my art as a form of telling you how much I love you but I realize now that, it is not enough.”

“Darling—“

“Art is not a good enough medium nor is poetry or music. There are not enough words or notes or paint in this world that could show, truly, how much I love you. I do not think I love any differently than Shakespeare or Bach or Da Vinci but I do think you make all the difference in the world. If they loved you too, they would have struggled just as much as I do.”

Y/N was at a loss for words. Her heart soared, giddiness spreading all across her body.

She and Benedict had only been married for a year. A full year of bliss and happiness. She’d heard it said by other ladies that marriages normally went stale after six months and she herself had seen how little regard her parents had for each other. In fact, her own mother refused to speak to her father when he refused to come to Y/N’s wedding with Benedict after Y/N refused to be wed to the Duke of Albany. And even now, after a year, he refused to speak to her.

She knew she was lucky. She married the man she loved, a man who loved her just as much as she loved him. It was a fate most women of the ton could only dream of yet to her, it was reality.

“Benedict, I don’t even know what to say,” Y/N said, her voice filled with the same amount of love as her husband’s declaration.

“Say nothing. I can read your eyes clearly enough,” Benedict said with a smile before he leaned down and planted another kiss, this time on her lips.

His lips were soft like butter and tasted like summer, like the sweetness of the cool breeze and the light of the sun. He tasted like home.

There were still many things wrong in Y/N’s world.

Her father had still disowned her and they hadn’t spoken since she last saw him that fateful day in the drawing room at Aubrey Hall. There was still the manner of Violet Bridgerton probing for a grandchild. But she knew one thing and that thing brought her peace like no other. Everything could go wrong in this world but so long as Benedict Bridgerton was at her side, then everything would be all right.

#bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton fluff

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amazingdeadfish · 2 months ago

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Blue and Violet Scenes/Ideas that never made the cut

Self Indulgent post ahead, but I kind of wanted to share some of the things that had been part of the early stages of BAV but were cut out when I finally started publishing! Most of this stuff was either cut out due to my interpretations of the characters naturally changing and/or I simply realized that these aspects simply could not fit the story I wanted to tell (or, they are just silly things I simply could not fit into the plot line. OR, I forgot about them and didn't remember these things existed until now 💀).

Starting off strong with a thing I actually wrote a segment for (an idea that was relatively recent compared to the ones down below): During Colours, Baihe and Macaque were meant to visit the ruins of her house and try and salvage any bits and pieces which might help them find her parents. In the end I had decided that, Baihe would have done that already before Macaque found her on the park bench. I just think that that moment between her and her old home should just... well, it's a moment that belongs to her. Something Macaque didn't need to bare witness.

Extra Info: This is where Baihe was originally meant to find the old photo of her, her parents, and Māo as a kitten. And... Macaque is there in the background. Stealing an air fryer that managed to survive the wreckage (this was in fact written into the draft of this segment).

Next is- well, it contains a bit of a heavy topic. It's about Mayor and LBD and... erm...

In the published version of TQFTSK. Macaque betrays the Chief and locks them in the Calabash and this inevitably leads to LBD telling Chief to cut off their hair. Originally, this was not going to be the only thing she would do.

I have incredibly mixed feelings about this concept, but basically, after Chief especially failed to get the key and 'let' Macaque escape, LBD would have had severe insecurities about the Chief being on their own and the idea that they would never be able to get anything done without her. So, she made them wear a collar. So that every time they didn't do anything right, the needles imbedded into it would dig into their throat and- well, it was basically torture. She would have called it 'necessary discipline'. Of course, the collar would not be visible to anyone. It only appears when it's 'necessary'.

But this was an extremely early concept that I threw away in the bin after realising that this was not what I wanted LBD and Mayor's relationship to be like. While the initial idea behind this was to really empathize the fact that LBD owns Mayor and is extremely controlling, the idea of a physical collar ruins that aspect of their relationship. It's a visual and painful representation of their relationship, sure, but it made their relationship too negative and, well, Mayor loves her. And I knew it needed to be important to at least give you guys some sort of reason and some sort of argument as to why that admiration and love would be justified. The collar was just too much, and it didn't fit LBD's character to do something like this.

Side Note: One thing I think subconsciously happened though, was the needle thing. LBD ended up killing Ling with tens of thin needles piercing through their body. So, not a collar, but the basic principle of needles being used for pain... remains. It may or may not be to do with the idea of 'stitching up a puppet to fix its mistakes'.

Moving on, a more silly one this time! Somewhere near the beginnings of all of this (all the way back when I had only planned to make TQFTSK and Colours), there was going to be one single chapter (in Colours) dedicated to the Mayor going through all the stages of grief (eventually I'd come to the conclusion that they needed a lot more than one chapter to do all of that lmao). As a part of their bargaining stage, Macaque was going to stumble upon them in a bar and- unfortunately, being the curious nut he is, decides to stick around and just listen to the Mayor drunkenly mope.

PSA: No, this would not have ended in drunk kissing. This was meant to end in a snotty nosed Mayor and Macaque promptly leaving after he'd had his bit of listening to their misery.

Another thing was that Mayor was meant to be able to see souls! This particular story feature eventually just evolved into Mayor simply being able to judge a soul by looking at their eyes (hence the whole, "eyes are the gateway to the soul").

Another Note: This whole idea was also meant to emphasize the fact that Mayor has no soul and, how whenever they look inside themselves, there is no colour and there is no soul (that is, until they get their soul back). But, well, I figured their eyes alone would be able to do all of that just fine without this ability.

Now, as ashamed as I am to admit, originally I had completely bought into the Baihe, Macaque, and Mayor family dynamic. So, in the beginning, this was what was going to happen.

But then I decided Baihe was not going to conveniently be an orphan or have shitty parents for the sake of this dynamic. No, no no no. She will have loving parents, character development, and she will be more than just a character to fill in the slot of 'the child'. Whenever I write Baihe, I always strive to not use her for the sake of developing Macaque and Mayor's characters. No shame to those who like this dynamic though, its a good one and it's so silly (I still like it to be honest).

Now, let me tell you that there are a LOT more unused concepts than this. It's really just a decent slice from a never ending pile of WIPs and shower thoughts scribbled onto a doc from all the way back in like... 2022-23.

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gimmebackmyskeeball · 2 months ago

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Cinnamon Girl

author’s note: this was longer than I thought it was honestly, it’s been sitting in my drafts for a fat minute. It’s a piece of shit and it’s completely not proofread I was just listening to Cinnamon Girl and started thinking about Jj all of a sudden. Also I don’t know if you can tell but I was kinda high when I wrote this I lowkey fixing my mistakes but let me know if I missed any cause my migraine’s fuckin me up the ass and my head’s throbbing and I’m just noticing I vented a little bit so if that’s gonna trigger you in the slightest way possible I suggest you don’t read this.

warnings: mentions of abuse, a teeny tiny mention of ed, trauma dump (by me), objectification(?), cussing, bad writing probably, stoned author, sorry bout that.

inspo song: Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey

You do accept. You’re way past the denial phase anymore. You are irrefutably in love with your best friend. And no, we’re not talking about a silly attraction or crush, you were in love with him. In love with the way he walks, in love with the way he talks, in love with how he payed attention to every single thing you do and immediately fixed whatever it is that annoys you. You were completely in love in love with him and the worst part is that you were okay with it. You stopped thinking that it was possible in any way shape or form a long time ago. But no matter what you do you couldn’t stopped loving him, loving anything that came by him. You were ready to do anything to receive some kind of validation from him. Anything.

Cinnamon in my teeth,

From your kiss, you’re touchin’ me

It’s not like you didn’t tried. Almost see through tops, those denim shorts that ends right by your ass, hugging it tightly. Okay, maybe it is actually embarrassing to show off yourself just so some guy would give you attention but he wasn’t some guy. He was never just some guy. The moment you look at him your whole self respect leaves your body and honestly, who could blame you? You didn’t even believed but it had actually worked, he had threw some “Damn girl, never knew you could dress like that.” or “Looking good.” here and there and it made you feel better than ever. You do pity yourself for it, for the fact that you decided to do something that you would find other woman who do it lame just for him and also because you liked it. You did. And you did it more. You kept doing it until he stopped. What happened? Were you ugly now? Did something change? Did someone else got his attention now? No, no one but you can have his attention, they just can’t. You’ll make sure of it.

All the pills that you take,

Violet, blue, green, red to keep me at arms length don’t work

I guess you weren’t his type anyway, he was into bimbos, girls that are head empty, no thoughts. No thoughts but sex that is. And you were ready to be that for him if he let you. You were ready to be something you despised with a burning passion only for him. He was no good for you that’s for sure, he made you cry and he made you feel insecure, he made you feel desperate and overwhelmed but there’s one thing he never made you feel before, unsafe. He never made you feel unsafe. He feels like home, I know that’s cheesy but it’s true. It feels right with him even though it can’t be more wrong. He just feels so right, you want him, no, you need him. You know he needs you too, if you really think about it he would be alone if it wasn’t for you. Who does he goes to when he has a fight with his dad? Who patches him up? Who takes care of him when he comes to the château in the middle of the night, drunk or high or both? And who plays babysitter next morning when his hangover is eating him alive? You.

You try to push me out,

But I just find my way back in

Violet, blue, green, red to keep me out

It has always been you for him. The one who was there for him. His safety school. His hiding spot. Sometimes you do feel like there’s something special and he feels it too but maybe it’s your delusions or that part of you that is aching for Jj so hard that it’s painful now. It hurts you when he gives you hope too. Which unfortunately he likes to do. Don’t know why. You’d be sitting in the backyard, smoking weed, talking about your pasts and plans for your futures and he says something like “You know what I want? I wanna see the world, surf, never see another kook for the rest of my life, do whatever the fuck I want, never let anybody tell me what to do anymore.” You understood him, you’ve been a pogue all along but you didn’t wanted freedom or money. You wanted him. He was your escape from reality. As two teenagers coming from problematic families you two got each other. You gave him a smile, “Yeah…yeah I mean, I get it. This place is pretty but it’s just…stressing” “It is. I’m done with it. Done with all of it. I just wanna leave, you comin’?” Is he serious? Are you coming? He wants you there and thinks you have a choice of not coming? You would go to the deeps ends of hell with him if he wanted you there. “Sure. If you don’t mind.” “‘Course I don’t. Just wanna spend the rest of this miserable life how I want. Doin’ whatever I want. You and me, against the world. That’s how I wanna spend it.”

I win.

You wanted to tell him. Tell him that you wanted to spend it exactly the same. That you needed no one and nothing but him. But you were a coward, that’s what you were. “I don’t think future Mrs. Wife wouldn’t like that very much.” He smiled, god his smile, those dimples… Lost. You feel lost. Without him, you’ll feel lost. “Bold of you to assume that my future wife won’t want you there instead of you being the wife herself.” Joke. All jokes. Not funny Jj. How dare does he takes my only purpose in life and shove it to my face like it’s some super funny joke? Screw him. I love him. So goddamn much. “Yeah. Real bold.” He noticed your frown, just like how he notices everything. “I’m serious. Pogue for life, yeah? If my foreign wife doesn’t want an og ‘round us, she can piss off.” Lies. You don’t believe him. He’s gonna dump his wife for you? Bullshit. “You’re ridiculous, it’s the woman you’re gonna marry we’re talking about. You’re gonna leave your wife for me?” Oh god how you wish he did. He doesn’t even have a wife and now you’re jealous of an imaginary person. Great. “Like I said I can’t leave my wife for my wife, peach.” Same joke. Still not funny. “You’re not funny Jay.” “Oh I agree, I’m not jokin’ whatsoever. I seriously doubt anyone’s gonna ever take me as a husband and well…sorry to tell you this but you’re stuck with me.” I wanna be stuck with you, talk straight, tell you that I can’t be stuck with you because I want you by my side anyway. But I can’t.

There’s things I wanna say to you

But I’ll just let you live

Like if you hold me without hurting me

You’ll be the first who ever did

Don’t know what he’ll do, what he’ll say. I mean it’s not like you know what’s he’s gonna do ever but this is different. If you tell him the truth would he leave you? See now, that’s the day where you’d die. Jj is not just Jj. He’s you. He’s everything that makes you, you. And maybe it’s stupid and crazy to give someone this much meaning but it doesn’t seem that crazy when it comes to him. Because with your entire existence, you love him. With every bone in your body, you adore him. Maybe it’s trauma bonding…because you get it. Dad sucked, just like his. And you know exactly how he feels every time another punch lands on his face by his own father. The man who gave him life. It’s understandable that he doesn’t believe in love. You didn’t either. Until you met him. Until you realized what a perfect fucking boy he is. He is going to be yours, he doesn’t have a choice. It’s an exaggeration or maybe not, who gives a shit? He’s the only thing in this fucked up world that’s makes you feel fulfilled. He’s like a drug. Makes you feel good. Makes him feel good. But in the end of the day you both know you’re bad for each other. So? Who gives a fuck? You’re both fucked up, perfect pairing, perfect partners. At least you have each other’s backs. His dad gets abusive? You’re there to comfort him. Your dad gets abusive? He’s there to comfort you. He’s drunk and having a panic attack? You ran to him, you’re his way out. You’re gonna binge or do the exact opposite? He’s your only way out. His mom isn’t in the picture. And yours is just barely. See? Soulmates.

There’s things I wanna talk about

But better not to give

But if you hold me without hurting me

You’ll be the first who ever did

You hated him. Hated how much you love him and how unconditionally you loved him. How much you changed for him. How you did everything he said and wanted. How you served him. How much you liked doing it. And how you’re gonna keep doing it no matter what happens.

Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Be the first who ever did

I mean, he’s gonna leave. Everyone leaves. Until then you want him by your side. He can do what he wants, you only have one request from him and that is his love. He’s worth it. Because if he holds you without hurting you, he’ll really be the first who ever did.

take a shot every time I say love challenge les go

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cornsoupflavour · 7 months ago

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Untapped Power (LoL NSFW Smut) [META]

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Syndra x Gamer!Male Reader

Tags: 2.7k, slight verbal degradation, creampie, power exchange, mention of k1ll1ng (in-game though), mommy, meta

Image credit: Minory Fox on ArtStation

You'd been browsing the selection of champions, your fingers tapping against the keyboard as you contemplated which one to use tonight. The variety was staggering, as always, and the background hum of the loading screen brought a sense of excitement and anticipation.

Suddenly, the room around you began to dematerialise, leaving you at what was seemingly a jazzy and oddly calming bar. Surrounding you were the champions you were just browsing through. Syndra walked by you, her violet eyes ablaze with power. Her silvery–white hair flowed around her like a cascade of silver water, the intricate design of her armor glinting in the light. You found yourself taking a step back involuntarily, your eyes still locked onto her.

You looked up, seeing yourself through a large rectangular screen, looking dazed and bored. It finally clicked in your head. This was part of the new update that League received. It said something about the integration of new–age technology, and this must be it. You decide to pick Syndra for the match tonight. Approaching her, you call out, "H–Hey, Syndra– Ms. Syndra...?"

"Well, well," Syndra began as she turned to face you, her voice like the cracking of electricity. "It seems you're the one who dabbles with our kind. Are you going to choose me tonight, or shall I have to force my way into the game?"

The other champions nearby were moving around and chatting, taking a break after acting out a long–winded battle for some other players. They seemed to brush over the fact that you're there, like you were invisible. As your attention landed back on Syndra, you could feel the weight of their gazes, but you maintained eye contact with her.

"You're quite the intimidating presence," you commented, trying to keep your composure. "But I think I'd like to give you a shot." A grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she presented you with a holographic champion select button. You locked eyes with her once more before gazing up at the You through the screen in the sky and laid your hand on the button.

Syndra's eyes narrowed, as you're both transported to a different place, now surrounded by walls of blue pixels. "I like your courage. You're about to find out just how good of a choice you'd just made." With a smirk, she disappeared from view, leaving you to complete your selection.

In the blink of an eye, the game loading screen sprang to life, and you found yourself slipping into the role of Syndra, her voice in your ear. The familiar map of Summoner's Rift began to take shape around you, and the adrenaline started to course through your veins. Her headgear materialised onto your head, as you made your way down MID.

As the game began, you could see the minions arriving, you could feel fingers twitching over the keyboard, but your consciousness was in the game. You spotted your opponent on the other side, it was another player with Lux's gear. She seemed to know what she's doing with her pure essence shining from her regal armor as she cast her shimmering spells. You prepared yourself for a battle as she began to move towards you.

The first few encounters were disastrous. Syndra's voice screamed into your ear, "Dodge her Q– What are you doing?!", "Oh for the love of all that is mighty, stop walking DIRECTLY INTO HER Q!"

You may have escaped the toxicity that is the League of Legends chat function, but it seemed as though it has reincarnated in vocal form. There were times where she'd whisper, perhaps out of pure exhaustion or disappointment, "...you're letting her stun you too easily. Please... react to her Q and E combo faster..."

Almost every single time you were stunned, you died. Falling victim to her combos. Syndra may have stopped shouting, but you could tell her patience was running thin. For a player with this many hours in the game, you'd think you could dodge almost the basics of abilities. Perhaps it was just a bad day.

In one particularly devastating fight, you were sent back to your tower, your health at 1%. Syndra's voice grew strained and frustrated, if she could choke you through your screen, she would have.

She took a deep breath, "...you have to dodge her Q, be unpredictable. Once you dodge her Q, you can hit her with my Q, E and W combo..." A flicker of dark energy formed at your fingertips, demonstrating the power you could unleash.

But it was then that you started to get the hang of her. You could feel Syndra guiding you out of pure disappointment, but at least it was still guidance. Her power surged through your veins. You stood your ground, anticipating Lux's movements, dodging her Q and E combos with a sudden burst of speed. Syndra's eyes blazed with satisfaction.

"Good. Now, wait for the right time, and use my R." She instructed, as you watched her summon a dark sphere. "This is my ultimate, Unleashed Power. All those spheres you've been summoning with my Q? Yeah, they're gonna act as extra ammo for my R, got it?"

You did as she said, and as the right time approached, you saw the stunned expression on Lux's face as a barrage of Syndra's dark spheres went barreling at her, taking her out and retrieving the bounty she had gotten from the early game. You took advantage of the opportunity, recalling and buying some items to make you stronger. The tide of the match began to turn.

The game progressed, and with Syndra's guidance, your mastery over her abilities grew. You could feel her delight and approval, her voice filled with pride towards your growth as you coordinated with your team to decimate the enemy. The battle became a symphony of destruction, as you and Syndra's combined efforts brought forth a chorus of tower takedowns and eventually reaching the Nexus.

The enemy team began to crumble under your onslaught, their once–confident demeanor replaced by fear. A devious grin spread across Syndra's features. "Yes... just like that... You're doing so well... I've truly taught you excellently... Keep it up, and you'll know what true devastation feels like."

Your combined efforts with Syndra paid off as your team emerged victorious. The enemy Nexus shattered, as you camped right outside their spawn to farm kills. You'd managed to dominate both the lane and the game, your victory a testament to Syndra's untapped power and your newfound understanding of it.

The screen faded to the character select lobby screen, and Syndra appeared before you. "Well done. With the power I granted you, you've proven worthy of my essence." She bowed her head slightly, pride and respect in her eyes.

"Y'know, for a character who's supposed to be in some medieval universe, you've got some modern slang."

"Yeah, well, if you've existed within this game long enough, you'd pick up a thing or two from the players."

"Oh– yeah that makes sense," you nodded.

"Perhaps next time, you'll choose me again," Syndra said with a wink, her voice a sultry promise. "Y'know, unless you wanna celebrate somehow, the player count drops at around this time, so I'm not expecting any matches soon, let alone matches where I'm picked."

The two of you shared a knowing look, the air between you thick with unspoken desire. She took your hand, leading you through the Post–Match Lobby, passing by other champions as you made your way to a secluded, dark corner. A comfortable silence enveloped you as she leaned in close, your lips brushing against each other. You let a soft moan escape.

"You've been a very good student today," Syndra whispered, her voice a sensual caress against your ear. "And I intend to reward you." With deft fingers, she unbuttoned your shirt, exposing your chest. Her hands roamed over your skin, her touch electric.

"Oh wow... for a League player, you're surprisingly fit..." she playfully whispered. You returned the favor, running your fingers through her silky hair, tugging softly before moving downwards, unfastening her armor. The cool air brushed against your heated skin as she shrugged off the Ionian gear, revealing her slender form.

Syndra's lips trailed down your neck, as her hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. You let out a soft, pleasure–filled whimper, as she began to unbuckle your belt, her fingers working with precision. As your pants fell to the floor, she smiled devilishly, before kneeling before you.

"Impressive, you're already so hard for me," she whispered, her breath hot against your throbbing member. "I'm going to take care of you." Her tongue swirled around the tip, making you gasp in surprise.

She took you into her mouth, her lips engulfing your shaft. Each slow, deliberate bob of her head was met with a series of moans. "Ugh– fuck, Syndra–" escaped your lips as she sucked you deeper. Her tongue flickered against the sensitive underside, eliciting a moan that vibrated through her mouth.

She increased her pace, her hands massaging and fondling your balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. The intensity of her movements, paired with the warmth of her mouth, sent shivers down your spine. Her eyes looked up at you, full of lust and desire.

You grabbed a clump of her silky silver hair, her headdress laid out on the floor. Her slurps and gawks echoed throughout the empty corner. "Damn– do you do this– nngh, fuck– for all your players?"

She momentarily popped your cock out of her mouth, the shaft glistening with her saliva and spit, trailing back to her plump and purple–tinged lips. "Mmah– No, this is actually the first time I'm doing this. And something tells me, I won't need to find someone else~" she teased as she winked.

Syndra resumed her oral pleasures, her mouth working you with a renewed passion. The sight of her, her purple eyes locked on yours, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips, made your body tense up. Her hand started to play with your balls again, rolling them gently between her fingers, increasing the pressure with each roll.

"Fuck... Syndra, I'm..." You gasped, unable to finish the sentence as you felt yourself getting close.

She paused, her mouth pulling away, leaving you dripping with her saliva. "Hold on, darling, don't cum yet. I want to see how you'd fuck me." She got up, her body swaying seductively, her ample breasts bouncing with each step.

She turned around and bent over, her ass cheeks perfectly round, her back arching, inviting you to take her. You moved closer, positioning yourself at her entrance. Her slick folds welcomed you as you slid inside, her warmth enveloping your shaft.

"G–Goddamn... I should pick you– mmmf~ more often..."

A soft moan escaped her lips as you began to thrust, the sound echoing through the secluded corner. "Mmh, so big, I can feel every inch of you."

You grabbed her hips, your thrusts becoming more depserate, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the void. Her head tilted back, exposing her long slender neck, her hair cascading down, framing her like a silvery waterfall.

"Fuck, yes, that's it," she panted, her voice breathy and needy. "Take me, just like this. Fuck– you just bottomed me out–"

You increased your pace, the sound of hips slapping against hers growing louder, her moans and whimpers accompanying the rhythm. Her body bucked back each thrust, her movements in perfect sync with yours.

"Oh, fuck, yes, Syndra, your pussy feels so fucking good," you grunted, your grip on her hips tightening, feeling every ripple as she clenched around your shaft.

She leaned forward, bracing herself on the floor, a muffled moan escaping. You could see sweat beading on her forehead as she turned to look at you over her shoulder, the effort of taking you, a testament to her desire for you. Her body shuddered, her inner walls contracting, milking you with every thrust.

"Fuck, I– I'm close, Syndra," you warned, your breathing growing more ragged.

She looked over her shoulder once more, her eyes glittering with lust. "Don't cum yet, I want to be the one to push you over the edge." With that, she stood up, pulling you out of her, leaving you panting, your cock glistening with her juices.

Instead of returning to the floor, she spun around, climbing onto a nearby surface, her legs spread wide, beckoning you. "Climb up here, baby, let's do this with a view."

You obliged, your legs trembling as you stood on the higher platform, your throbbing member leading the way to her dripping folds. You positioned yourself at the entrance, feeling her walls part and engulf you as you pushed inside.

"Fuck, your tits look beautiful like this."

You began to thrust again, the heightened view and angle giving you a new perspective of each movement. Her eyes locked on yours, her body rocking with each thrust, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

"Mmph, god, that's it, just like that, I'm so close, I need to feel you–" she gasped, her voice raw with need.

You could feel your control slipping, your orgasm looming closer. You wanted nothing more than to give into the pleasure, but as she had said, she wanted to push you over that edge. You increased your pace, fucking her harder, your bodies colliding in a frenzy of lustful desire.

You leaned forward, your hands kneading her tits as you connected your lips with hers in a passionate kiss. All illuminated by the backdrop of a vast world of what were seemingly lobbies of other games.

The world began to fade away, replaced by the feeling of your bodies locked together, the primal rhythm of your fucking, and her breathy, uninhibited moans.

"Syndra, wait– I'm... I'm going to cum..."

Syndra pushed you on your back, her eyes shining with lust as she sat up on your cock. She turned her body to face away from you. She used her abilities to lift the both of you in the air as she began grinding her hips against yours.

Syndra's eyes locked on yours, her body swimming and smacking against yours, her breasts swaying with every movement. The sensation of her taking you in reverse cowgirl was exhilarating, the sight of her body, her purple eyes, and silver hair intensifying your arousal. Her hands rose to her chest, gripping and kneading her own tits.

"Nngh~ Goddamn, Y/N– you're in really deep–"

"Oh, fuck, this is amazing, Syndra," you gasped, your hands gripping her ass, squeezing her firm cheeks.

As she rode you, her body undulating, her moans grew louder, more desperate. Her orgasm began to build, her pace increasing, her walls constricting and pulsing around your cock.

"Nngh fuck, I'm cumming, I'm–" She started to cry out, her walls clamping down, her pussy milked everything out of you.

Her climax ignited yours, your body tensing, your cock pulsating as you poured your hot, thick seed deep inside her, flooding her womb. A muffled roar escaped you as you came, your body quivering, the pleasure coursing through you.

As you both rode the waves of your orgasm, she turned back around to face you, your gazes meeting longingly, sweat beading on both your foreheads. Breathing heavily, your chest heaving as you both regained your composure.

"Holy shit, Syndra, that was–"

"Amazing. I'm glad you enjoyed it," she replied, the satisfaction evident in her voice.

She slowly lowered the both of you back down onto the ledge. Her body remained atop yours, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. The two of you remained entwined, the afterglow of the sex still lingering.

"I'll keep this memory with me... I think I'll just main you from now on... Want me to get you a new skin?" You whispered, your thighs still quaking from the climax.

Syndra sat up and arched her back, her head hanging behind her in utter satisfaction, her eyes closing, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Show me what skin you want me in, Y/N." She whispered back, her voice laced with content and desire, her hand idly running along your chest as she leaned back to lock eyes with you.

The two remained on the ledge, Syndra's body sitting straight up while still impaled on your cock as you laid flat on your back. Looks like you've truly found your main.

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

#game smut #lol smut #syndra x male reader #x male reader #smut #league of legends #league of legends smut #fanfic smut #male reader

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gfguren · 2 years ago

Text

fae!shikamaru x (fem) reader | an ENTIRELY self indulgent fic, fantasy!au, shameless smut | cw: mentions of hypothermia, degradation, manipulation?, shikamaru is an ass

-fae!shikamaru takes a liking to you-

part 1 | part 2

The fireflies danced through the trees and it would have been beautiful, had you been a fool. And maybe still, if the chill of the night hadn't crawled up your spine to wrap around your throat, you'd not have fallen victim to the illusions of the forest. You knew better than to follow the little light twirling around your being and past the old wood, so innocent - and so very very deadly.

The sun disappears and the forest nymph looks to the sky, eyes of seafoam and emerald lingering on the moon peeking over the quickly fading sunset. "You've stayed too long." When he turns his gaze on you once more, he wears a worried expression, one of the violets in his hair falling softly to ground. "I need not remind you to avoid the wisps, do I?"

You smile though you feel your heart in your throat. "Follow the violets til the very last tree. Do not stray, and close my eyes if I must. And never, ever, follow the light." You eye the pretty forest guardian with his wily red hair, you've always wondered how not a single strand looked out of place, messy as it is. "Right?"

You repeat his mantra, you've heard it a hundred times. With a light nod, he tucks the fallen flower behind your ear. "Do not forget it. I would surely miss your company."

"Don't worry, Gaara. I have too many stories to tell to disappear now."

"The forest cares not for your stories, be cautious." As stoic as ever, one day you'll get him to laugh - he'll have the prettiest smile, you muse, perhaps the wildflowers will come to life, braving the biting November breeze to catch a glimpse of his beauty. "Now go, before the fae begin to wander."

So you do, feet mapping every last violet until the final beam of light kisses your skin, wishing you a warm goodnight and disappearing behind the horizon. The moon is high overhead before you feel the first trickle of dread.

You should be home by now, tucked beneath that plush yellow quilt, hand sewn by your doting mother. Is she worried about you right now, sitting by the fireplace with your little sister in her arms, waiting for her oldest to return? You wonder when, if you'll even return, what with the forest's end seemingly getting further and further away.

The thought chills you to the bone.

And when the lights come to life, appearing before you like reflections of the stars in the sky, your knees go weak. Gaara's words echo in your mind and you're quick to shut your eyes, wringing your fingers together as if that'll quell your shaking palms. "Just follow the violets." Your breath departs in a silver mist.

When had it grown so cold?

Your eyes open once more and you're startled at the stark nothingness before you. The violet path you'd trekked a hundred times is - gone.

How could it be gone just like that? You'd followed the blooming petals all the way to the forest nymphs' spring just this morning.

You take a step backwards, jumping at the crunch echoing through the forest. You lift the heel of your boot to find the remnants of a once purple flower, turned brown and crisp. They're wilted - dead.

It's then that you realize the chatter of the forest has ceased; the trees have gone still, the owls no longer cry, every last woodland creatures has stopped skittering to and from, and Gaara's flowers have wilted right under your feet. As if life itself has fled from the forest.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so desperate, when you know better than to follow that twinkling light. But the cold suffocates you in its icy hold, numbing your fingers and forcing you forward despite your hesitation.

How can something so pretty be so dangerous anyway? It has to be better than freezing to death.

Right?

The light flickers past the trees and you try your best to follow, careful not to trip on the overgrowth of roots. It speeds up and you begin to wonder if it's guiding you, or running from the deathly cold forest behind you. You don't know which is worse.

Suddenly it disappears like candlelight, and you can almost swear you hear a breath of laughter on the breeze that extinguishes it. You choke on the panic rising in your throat - now what?

Ahead of you is a thick mass of forest, trees taller than you thought they could grow, and it's then that you feel the chill wrap around you in a threatening embrace, daring you to linger a moment longer. One foot forward, you venture closer, trekking carefully over the massive roots and dead leaves. Second thoughts skirt the edge of your conscious but the cold creeps up your spine and you press further.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you." A voice muses from behind you and you jump, whipping around to face the mysterious stranger. He's a shadow in the distance, arms crossed and head down as he leans against a tree. "That is, if you're goal wasn't to be eaten by the forest."

You think you hear him chuckle and the tears prick your eyes. "Do you-" your mouth suddenly grows dry. "Do you know the way out?"

He shrugs, and you swear you see the hint of a smirk twisting in the darkness. "Maybe." Your eyes light up until he finishes with a nonchalant, "or maybe not."

You desperately make your way to him, caution and reserve be damned. "Please tell me. I need to get home, I-"

"What's in it for me?" Your eyes meet his and it's only then that you see the strange hue swirling in the abyss he calls irises and the shadow of two wings cast over the trees behind him. Your blood runs cold.

A faerie.

Your gaze falls to the ground, the toe of your boot an inch away from the circle of mushrooms surrounding him. "You- you're-"

"I- I'm-" He mocks, head tilting to the side as he pushes off the tree and draws near, though he doesn't cross the threshold. It's not until you turn on your heel, intent on running as far away as your feet can take you that he speaks once more. "So you've figured the way out all on your own? Are you confident the forest won't swallow you whole?"

"I'm less confident that you won't," you breath, frozen fingers balled at your sides.

His laughs in a bemused sort of way that's both beautiful and frightening and the duality sends your heart skittering away like a frightened rabbit. "Maybe I was wrong. You do have a brain in that pretty head of yours." He rustles behind you and you dare to peek over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of him leaning forward, toeing at the barrier between your bodies. "So why don't you use it and realize you don't have a chance in this forest. Not on your own."

He crosses his arms, continuing. "And who knows? It could be fun. Don't you like a bit of a gamble?"

"Not when it's with my life, thank you very much."

"How boring." He shrugs, plopping down on the grass with his arms crossed. "I'll enjoy the show then. I wonder, will you freeze to death or will the forest eat you up? My bet is on the latter."

You should walk away, take your chances with the forest, and you know it. But you've lost the feeling in your toes, and you're sure your lips are turning blue. "What is it you want from me?"

"Oh, not much." He rises once more, hands clasped behind his back and a wicked smile on his face. "Why don't we start with your name?"

You outright laugh. "I'd rather be eaten by the trees."

"It was worth a shot," he hums. "I didn't think it would be easy, not with that nosy forest nymph telling you all our secrets."

"How did you-"

"Do you not hear the forest whispering?" he muses, laughing at the confusion sweeping your face. "Oh right, of course not. You're only human after all."

His contempt is biting but doesn't seem genuine, strangely enough.

He crosses the threshold like a breath of cold air whipping past your face, and circles your shivering form. You think you feel his fingers dance past your shoulder, before his lips are at your ear. "Why don't you come play with me for a little while? I hear you tell magnificent stories."

You force down the fear crawling up your throat and instead choke out a mocking and embittered, "What's in it for me?"

You feel his smirk against your cheek, clearly entertained by your gall. He takes a step back, once more encircled in mushrooms and when you turn to face him, his hand is extended, tantalizingly. "I know of someplace warm."

Shikamaru - that's the name he gave you, though you didn't think for a second it was truly his; you knew such things held power over the fae, and he certainly didn’t seem foolish enough to simply offer it to a stranger. But he also wasn't as scary as you'd thought - if anything he was hospitable, a good listener, perhaps a bit obstinate at times but amicable nonetheless. And handsome, annoyingly so, with a sharp jawline and a pretty smile to boot.

He was true to his word too - took you to a place warm and soft and entirely fantastical, with oddly plush sheets and overgrown flora that glowed with beautiful and ominous light. He served you the ripest fruit and the finest wine and only asked for your stories in return.

It seemed as if you’d spent an eternity together, though you’re not sure how much time had truly passed; the world is a perpetual state of twilight and sometimes your mind is clouded in a hazy sort of way that makes it hard to discern or remember anything at all really. It could have been days, months, years even.

So you make sure to cling to two things in this strange, hazy world.

Firstly, the memory of your mother who you're sure is waiting, waiting still - and that you miss her fiercely. Secondly, the knowledge that Shikamaru is dangerous. No matter how badly you want to believe that his intentions hold no deceit or ill will, he is a faerie after all, and by nature you can't take all his words for truths, or fall perilously into him - for him. As tempting as it is.

It's especially tempting in this very moment, with the stars twinkling so brightly against the dusty pink sky and the faerie sitting beside you, reciting the story of each constellation with such deep and profound knowledge. You hang onto each word that falls, falls, falls from his lips and you fall, too. Faster than you can catch yourself.

Sharp eyes meet yours, drawing you in like an abyss and beckoning you to abandon all your reservations and just jump. A knowing grin spreads across his face and he leans in until his hot breath is fanning past your lips. "Snap out of it, gullible human, before I take it as an invitation."

The haze lifts and you shrink back in embarrassment. He only chuckles, turning away to lift the intricately carved pipe from his lap and breathe in deep. "Still haven't grown accustomed to this place, I see."

"Did you expect me to?"

"Not really." He breathes out, a puff of smoke following, curling around itself like an ominous cloud. "Just disappointed."

An odd silence follows, one that's neither awkward nor comfortable, and in that silence is the question you've patiently waited to ask since he brought you to this odd, whimsical world, hanging precariously in limbo.

"What is it?" His words cut through the air like the fine edge of a sword and you startle. "Well?"

"It's just-" The faint memory of Gaara's heedings give you pause, careful not to offend him and sow the dangerous repercussions. "It’s nothing."

"I won't eat you alive, or whatever that annoying nymph whispered in your ear."

"Can you read my mind?" You seriously contemplate it for a moment, mortified by the implication.

"You're just predictable."

You pout, oddly insulted. "Oh yeah? Then what was I going to ask?"

He breathes in another puff of smoke, mood shifting into something darker, brooding, sad? "Beats me."

"Liar." You're voice is quiet, so quiet you hesitate to even call it a whisper, still he shoots you a side eyed glare that would have sent you fleeing had this been your first encounter; but you’ve spent several moons - or lack thereof, you suppose - by his side, and after all the stories, and meals, and wine you've shared, and all the nights you’ve spent beneath the same comforter and the same twinkling stars, you think you’ve began to understand him, trust him, even if just a little. "I was just wondering when I can return home, is all."

He sighs, as if he isn't surprised at all. "Are all humans as ungrateful as you?"

"Are all fae as stubborn as you?"

"You sure are bold, I'll give you that." He exhales, puffs of smoke greeting the air. "And rude, I nearly forgot that one."

You laugh, genuinely and he turns to face you, study you like you're the first thing he can't figure out. "You don't like it here? Have I not provided you with the finest amenities? Have I offended you in some way?"

You pull at the grass tickling your thighs. "Its not that."

He places his hand over your busy one. "Then stay."

You shake your head and turn to face him. "Shikamaru I-" His lips find yours and you freeze like startled deer, but it's certainly not because you don't like it - though he doesn't know that, slowly pulling away at your hesitance.

"Then it's me you don't like?"

You're slower to respond this time. You certainly don't dislike Shikamaru - though he gets on your nerves more often than not and nothing gets through that thick, but brilliant skull of his. The problem, you figure, is that you've never once considered liking the fae, even before Gaara's headings, as if the fear and distrust is engraved in your very bones. There's also the fact that he whisked you away from the only place you'd ever known, but you can't hate him for that, not when the alternative was freezing to death.

So you flirt with the idea, ruminate over the premise of Shikamaru being human, of meeting him in better, warmer circumstances, of telling stories and drinking beneath the moon from your boring, mundane world. And you think you might like him, quite a bit, in fact.

"No."

"No?"

You smile at his confusion, and for the first time, you find him cute. Which is a terrible realization because it makes you want to lean in and press your lips to his and - by the gods - why are you actually doing it?

He chuckles softly, setting the pipe aside and pulling you in by the back of your neck when you shyly try to back away. "Humans never finish what they start, huh?"

And his lips are on yours, with the fervor he wanted to kiss you with the first time; and it's magical and deep and lulls you into a haze deeper than the strange world around you - but you're not sure it's magic at all. You're just drunk on Shikamaru, and you want more, more, more until you're addicted and ruined and at the mercy of his whims.

"Wanted to do that," he groans, tongue mingling with yours. "Since the moment I saw you."

"The moment you saw me?"

"Mhm," his hand travels beneath the hem of your dress, wandering the expanse of your thigh and up to your hip, and when you don't pull away from his touch, further even. "Saw you with that forest nymph, in that pretty little dress. Wanted to see your eyes light up from up close when you tell me all your stories." His slender fingers dip beneath the cotton of your panties. "Wanted you to look at me, think of me, be so enamored with me that you didn't want to leave."

You whine, shuddering against him when he presses two fingers against your core, using your slick to rub circles against your clit. "Sh-Shikamaru." You breathe and he tenses before moving to trail kisses across your jaw.

"Mm, just like that. Wanted you to say my name, all breathless and cute."

"This is wrong, right?" You bury your head beneath his chin, hiding your burning cheeks. What would your mother think if she knew the things you were doing with this - this monster, as she called them, let alone your village; they'd send you to a monastery at best, and at worst, sacrifice you to the forest.

Oddly enough, Shikamaru comes to mind and that thought isn't as scary as it would have been once.

"You humans are so uptight." His free hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Do you like me?" You swallow hard, trying to turn away but he holds you steady; and he waits, waits until you nod, meek and slow. "Does this feel good?" He dips his fingers into the softness of your core, fingers thrusting against your gooey walls with just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling back; somewhere in your stupor you must have nodded because he continues, "Then what's wrong with it?"

You're at a loss for words and he smiles, fingers driving you mad. "Not a thing." He kisses you almost sweetly. "Right?" You moan against his mouth, falling into the baritone of his voice and the care in his affections. "Hold still, just like that. Good girl."

His fingertips are back against your clit, working you over with a fervor that has your thighs shaking and chest heaving in a desperate attempt to just, breathe. You've never felt anything like it, like your body is on the verge of catching fire, and you're chasing the flame, begging Shikamaru to set you alight.

And when the heat washes over your body, you cling so desperately to him, tears wetting your cheeks. Thighs squeezing around his hand, you swear you hear him laugh when you push weakly at his wrist - but he doesn't stop, not until the shaking ceases and your slick coats your thighs.

You collapse against his chest, exhausted, clinging to the soft and unfamiliar material of his cloak. You feel him shift, shuffle you into his arms and stand - but you can't be bothered to open your eyes, even when he's pulling the boots from your feet and laying you gently upon silk sheets. "Look at me." You whine, trying to roll over to your side but he throws a leg over you, weight holding you down. "Listen to me, pretty."

You finally open your eyes, peeking up at him through dark lashes, a blush rushing up the expanse of your neck at his choice of words. Something hard twitches against your stomach and Shikamaru sighs, "Are you not going to finish what you started?"

You're exhausted, but you've never seen him look so eager, desperate, needy - looking all the more beautiful colored in the warm orange of the fireplace, and in that moment you'd bend over backwards, lay down your life, let him consume your entire being if that would please him. "What should I do?"

"Such a sweet, considerate thing," he muses, fingers creeping up your thighs to hook into the waistband of your panties before he's dragging them down your thighs. "Can you do the rest?"

He helps you sit, reaches around to undo the button holding the back of your dress, and you nod, shaking palms finding the hem before pulling it over your head. His fingers dance over your shoulders, calming your nerves as they gently work to undo your bra. He's quick about it and you eye him with suspicion. You’d heard stories from your friends, about their clumsy, clueless husbands, and you expect the same from Shikamaru, but like everything, he’s so sure about everything he's doing. "You're certainly good at that."

He grins, taking in your exposed being, devouring you with his gaze. "I've lived a long time, pretty. Does that bother you?"

The jealousy creeps up your chest but you wretch your gaze away and grumble out an unconvincing, "No."

Palms smooth down your sides and he leans in close, hot breath against your ear. "Don't be jealous, you're certainly the prettiest." He doesn't miss the way you shudder, grasp at his shirt as you buck against him, like instinct. "Careful now, I might forget to be gentle with you." He holds your wrist, places your palm flush against his clothed erection; you're embarrassed but you don't pull away, even daring to rub your fingers up and down the generous bulge.

He groans and you feel your pride swell, if only for the moment before he strips himself of his top and pushes you down. His pants follow and you prop yourself up on your elbows, unable to look away as he rids himself of the last barrier between your bodies. He catches you staring and stands a little taller, fisting his cock with one hand, as if he's showing off. You want to roll your eyes, call out his arrogance - but you can't even fault him; besides you’re too preoccupied wondering how it’s supposed to fit.

"Can you take it, pretty?" It's rhetorical you're sure, because he doesn't wait for an answer, just fits himself between your thighs, presses your knees to your chest and prods at your entrance with the tip of his cock.

Even that proves too much and he shushes your babbling lips, pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth as he inches in further. "Hurts Shikamaru, can't."

"You can." He pulls back just to push in further this time and you cry out, fingers pulling at his strands of dark hair until the elastic pops and it falls over his shoulders in disarray. "I promise you can. Trust me, yeah?"

You whimper, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Okay."

"Such a good girl," he coos, rocking his hips into yours. "So pretty and willing." The burn starts to fade and you keen against him. "Just like I thought you'd be."

"Like you thought I'd be?" Something about that sets you off, upsets you a bit.

He smirks, "Such a docile creature, you'd do anything I ask wouldn't you, pretty?" His fingers skim the expanse of your hips, easing himself in further. "Even your attitude is cute, because I know it's just to hide that your scared, like a frightened little rabbit."

He misses the scowl contorting your face, annoyance in your brow. You huff, nails dragging down his biceps as you jut your hips upward, ignoring the stretch, the pain, the burn, too focused on the way Shikamaru loses his balance, falls forward in a clumsy, inelegant sort of way - you feel yourself drip at the moan he breathes against your ear.

"I guess even you can be wrong sometimes," you quip breathlessly, ego growing to dangerous, and stupid proportions. "But it's fine since you're cute, like a dumb little rabbit."

Several moments pass before he finally pushes himself up, eyes set upon you like a predator that's just found it's prey, narrowed and dark and void of any amusement.

Your smirk disappears.

"Oh pretty," he sighs, slender fingers wrapping around your throat in a gentle but threatening hold. "I thought I warned you to be careful."

You blink and suddenly you're on top, looking down at a very upset faerie - a terrible place to be but certainly not worse than being beneath him, right? "I'm going to give you a chance to apologize."

You're quick to take it, willing to be anything besides on Shikamaru's bad side, even pathetic. So you squeak out a desperate, "I'm sorry!"

He only laughs, but it's flat and dry and you feel a chill crawl up your spine. "You think that's what I meant? Adorable."

His cock twitches inside you and you shudder. "I'll do anything."

"Yes, you will." His fingers bruise your hips in their merciless grip. "You're going to bounce on my cock, pretty." He pulls you down by the back of your neck, lips slanting over your own. "And you're not going to stop until I spill my seed inside you."

Your body moves before your mind stops reeling, hips rutting against him with reckless abandon, as if you're bewitched. "So eager to please," he groans, hand trailing up your side to caress your breast. His thumb brushes the nipple and it hardens beneath his touch. You whine softly, keening into his touch and he smirks, hips rising to meet yours and you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Your nails nearly pierce his shoulders as you cry out his name but his grin only widens, "That's a much better use of that smart mouth of yours."

Whatever witty retort you were going to spout dies on your tongue the moment his hand slips between your bodies to cup your sex, fingertips at your clit. "You'll give me another, won't you?" Your legs shake, already sensitive from the last. "You'll be even prettier this time, when you cum around my cock."

"Sorry, 'm sorry Shikamaru," you stammer as the heat gathers in your stomach, teetering precariously on the edge of spilling over. Your legs burn and you struggle to force enough air into your lungs, still you bounce atop him, with more and more fervor until his hand tightens against the back of your neck, holding you down against his chest as you shudder and shake, tumbling over the edge helplessly. His hips take over, thrusting into you until you feel his hot seed spill down your thighs.

Shikamaru's firm chest is suddenly the softest thing on earth, his labored breathing against the crackling fire the most tender of lullabies and you feel your conscious fade.

Only his taunting chuckle follows.

The world is warm and plush and smells like home. You sigh contentedly, stretching out your arms until they hit something soft, knocking it from the bed and sending it tumbling across the floor. Your tired eyes reluctantly open, instinctively reaching out to grab whatever it was, fingers freezing mid reach.

The stuffed bear you've owned since you were six stares back at you.

You jolt up, fingertips smoothing over the yellow quilt covering your body and the tears prick your eyes. You're home.

Your heart swells, soles hitting the wooden floorboards with a familiar creak. There's a burn to your thighs and you wince, stumbling forward and nearly over. A pair of steady hands catch you and the scent of smoke and sandalwood fills your senses. You lift your head to catch Shikamaru's gaze. "Why-" You worry the skin of your bottom lip and he grins.

"Why what? Isn't this what you wanted? Or are you that shocked by my generosity."

You snort. "-why are you here?"

His sigh is a disappointed one as he goads you back towards the bed. "Careful, you'll hurt my feelings." You sit on the edge, watching as he picks up your bear by one scraggly leg. He shoots you a look before tossing it into your lap. "This is the life you whined about returning to?" His hand lands atop the footboard of your bed; it creaks under his weight and he shifts just to drive his point home further. You swear the wood nearly gives out.

"Would you quit that?"

He shrugs, making his way to your side. "Were you hoping I wouldn't be here? That I disappeared like a bad dream?" He leans in, hot breath against your ear. "Though you were singing a different tune last night." You elbow him, glare verging on turning him to burning ash. He chuckles, giving you just enough space to breathe. "Well?"

You play with the stuffed bear, avoiding his waiting gaze. "I mean-" You lift the fluffy arm and press on its stomach. "I'd probably miss you - eventually." You set it aside, busying yourself with your fingers instead. "Just a little."

His hand covers yours and you startle when his fingers intertwine with yours. "Then return with me."

"Shikamaru-"

"Not now, and not forever.” There’s a lopsided grin on his face when he adds a provocative, "well, probably."

You glare but he ignores it and presses a kiss to your shoulder, sliding the strap of your nightgown to the side. "Just visit me, like that forest nymph you're so fond of." There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, jealousy even and he takes your skin between his teeth and sucks. "No. Stay longer, more, forever if you want to. Don't run away when night falls, stay with me. Stay until you're sick of me, and come back anyway."

You can't see it, but you imagine there's a bruise as purple as Gaara's violets painted across your shoulder. Shikamaru presses against it with rough fingers and it stings just a bit. "And stop telling him your stories, they're mine now. You're mine now."

You consider it but the instigator on your shoulder quips back with an indignant, "And if I don't?"

He grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll eat you."

You can only hope he's joking.

#shikamaru #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto smut #shikamaru smut #aaahhhh #i'd love to write more of this if yall like it #even if yall dont #though its nice to know im not screaming into the void </3 #shikamaru being mean and manipulative makes me go brRRrr #and add fantasy to the mix?#ooh baby

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fridayth13 · 1 year ago

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notes: contains established relationship, brief physical contact, and the reader has hands

@yinorathedragontamer hey ✨️ fluffy itto x reader oneshot for you hdskjdgjfsfh it's relatively short, but i hope it's to your liking!

in spite of itto's formidable size, the way he looked at you as he reached for your hand could easily be compared to that of an excited puppy. the similarity extended to his almost clumsy run as he tugged you uphill by the hand to.. whatever he intended to show you.

"it's a surprise!" he exclaimed smugly, looking as if he'd replied the best comeback to ever exist.

nonetheless, he'd softened a little (just a little) at your raised eyebrow.

"oh, come on! just trust me! if you don't like it, you can get back at me however you want; how's that?"

"fine by me." you teased.

he only grinned, fangs peaking out from his wide smile. your partner was a lively one, indeed.

the islands of inazuma always seemed to be blanketed under a shroud of purple. from its lightning to its exotic fauna, as well as the numerous electro crystals that littered its face. you couldn't help but think so, looking over the grassy hillside itto led you up.

he eventually skidded to a stop in front of a boulder, thin trees framing the edge of a cliff. sunlight poured through cracks in the foliage.

with a flourishing bow, he held out a hand for you to take.

"allow me to help you up, my dear?"

you laughed at his antics.

"very well." you said, playfully rolling your eyes. your hand fit snugly in his.

though itto knew you had no need door assistance. the boulder wasn't that big anyway, and the footholds weren't steep by any means. it's just that you also knew he needed a tiny ego boost from you every once in a while.

as your head popped up over the rock, the glare of gold caught your eye. the sky was approaching sundown, the impending twilight veiling the brilliance of gold under hues of violet and pink.

itto climbed up behind you, ready to catch you if you slip while you climbed up on top of the boulder. from his own expression, you could tell he saw yours.

"pretty cool, huh?" he puffed out his chest with pride. he'd put his chin against the warm stone, anchoring himself from falling with his arms folded in front of his head and a single foothold.

"see? told you you'd like it." the oni was basically preening. "did you doubt me?"

"hehe. no." you kissed the crown of his head. itto hummed happily. "it's beautiful."

"oh, it's nothing. just bringing the two most beautiful sights in inazuma together. no big deal. all in a day's work for the one and oni itto."

you sighed as you combed through his thick white hair, equal parts fond and exasperated.

"dork."

itto thought your smile outshone the sun. he averted his gaze from it, warmth growing on his cheeks.

"you know, i mean it though."

you glanced down at him and chuckled.

"i know."

divider from @clutteredfun

#mine #my writing #requests #long post #drabbles #this is my first genshin request....huh.... ngl im feeling pretty okay about it #i hope i characterized itto correctly lol #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #gi arataki itto #gi arataki itto x reader #itto x reader

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citrusbatsandhoneybees · 8 months ago

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-The Fading Star-

-Part 5-

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: Longer chapter Folks! I just kept going, and it seemed off to split it into two so here it is! Again, if you prefer AO3 it's on there now too.

Lucifer Morningstar X Female! Insert

Content Warnings: Swearing, Illness descriptions, Car Crash descriptions, more angst

Quick Synopsis: Tsuki was made to keep Lilith company during her marriage with Adam, but finds herself, unwillingly, falling in love with a certain archangel. Then after many millennia she reunites with Lucifer.

It had been a week and a half since Tsuki had arrived at the hotel, and if the tension in the air was thick before it was practically palpable now. She had continued avoiding me in every way, with our closest interaction being in the kitchen on her first day.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I paced beside my bed. I don’t understand why she was so insistent on not speaking with me; it was starting to have a negative effect on my Charlie’s friends at this point. Even they’ve tried to tell me to talk to her. Ha! Like I haven’t tried! Every single opportunity that presents for us to speak, even if it would be short, she shuts down immediately. Charlie has even attempted to help me with her. During her daily redemption lessons, she’s tried setting up partner activities, but of course Tsuki made an excuse to leave early. This is ridiculous, she can’t think that she’s just going to never speak with me again, does she? Just stay a whisper away from me for the rest of time?

My duck alarm finally starts to squeak beside me as it waddles around on the bedside table, and I close its beak. I summon my staff and grip it tightly as I get ready to head down for the day. Time to try again, I guess.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve grown into a routine since I’ve arrived at the hotel: Wake up early, make breakfast, Charlie’s redemption lesson, grab list, help souls, come home, work on paperwork, sleep as much as I can, repeat. It was slowly getting more and more draining, but I could handle it. I’ve handled way worse; I just have to get used to the routine. It definitely doesn’t help that Lucifer has gotten pushier, talking about me and Eden in front of me with the other residents. He doesn’t get to decide when I speak with him. That’s for me to choose, and at this point he’s not giving me any reason to want to. It is strange though to not see Lilith, when I saw them last, they were practically attached by the hip. No one around has even mentioned her either. Maybe her absence is a sore subject for Charlie. She’s probably out doing something important for Hell, I’m sure; she is the queen. Luckily, other than Lucifer’s attempts, everything else at the hotel is going fairly well. Angel and I seem to always leave the hotel at the same time, so I talk to him every day. He’s really sweet to me, in his own way. I enjoy Charlie’s lessons quite a bit; she’s so much like her father. Alastor has been quite helpful in the mornings, and our conversations are nice. Hopefully I can get closer with the others though. I’ve gotten a quick jist of what they are like through the small lessons I attend, but by the time I get back everyone’s usually in bed. Except for a few rare cases.

Charlie rounds everyone to the lobby as normal, and everyone resides in their seat. Once I finally get comfortable in my spot, with a small twirl of glitters, I summon a crochet hook and small violet blanket that I’ve started. My hands rigorously work in a smooth rhythm, loop after loop continuing the row that I was on. This little project of mine has helped center my focus onto Charlie as she spoke for the past week.

“So... we still don’t have any new residents, and we believe that it’s because they’re still scared after the last extermination, so we need to show them that it’s worth it to stay at the new hotel! Vaggie, Dad, Alastor, and I have been talking, and we believe a good way to start is a banquet. That way we could show off the new hotel, and properly explain the hotel’s concept again before other fun things.”

A banquet? I haven’t been to one, but if I remember correctly Michael has told me about the events, he’s held for some of the higher-ranking angels in heaven.

“Is this going to be a formal event?”

Charlie turned to Tsuki after she heard her question.

“Yeah kinda, we want everyone to be comfortable, but we’ll have a dress code, so we don’t have anyone coming with well…. erotic ideas.”

“Ooooh so you’re tellin me I get to see whiskers here in a suit?”

Angel turned to the cat demon and teased while adjusting his legs over him. His smirk grew further as Husk rolled his eyes at the one draped over him, but no one was lost to the smile that stayed clear on his face. Charlie smiled and giggled lightly under her hand before she continued.

“Anyway… so to make this happen, I need everyone on deck. Dad already said that he would handle the food, and Alastor the music, but that leaves decorating and getting the word out. Angel Dust can probably help out Vaggie and I with invitations, so I need Husk and Tsuki to help out with getting this place ready for a banquet. Although if you two aren’t able to find something for it, I’m sure my dad can help with that too.”

Lucifer puffed out his chest a little proud that his daughter was relying on him for his help again, and Tsuki let out a small sigh, and looked back down to her blanket as the conversation continued over what the banquet needed. It would be fun to help arrange an event like this, but she would have to find time to be able to do everything required. Excitement grew over the rest of the group as they spoke about what they could do for the banquet. Even Husker chuckled along with Angel Dust when he suggested dragging him out on the dance floor after the courses were over. Tsuki smiled down at her project while listening to the cheery dialogues ahead of her. Angel Dust nudged her side before she could get too lost in thought.

“You know I’m gonna drag you shoppin too sugar!”

Tsuki sarcastically huffed out a breath and laughed lightly in response. She wouldn’t mind spending more time with him if she got the time. Standing from her spot, her small project whooshes away with the sparkles of her magic before she offers her hand down to Angel Dust.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now I’ve gotta head off are you coming?”

“Nah toots, I got the day off. But… you should consider talkin to your “old friend” over there he looks like he’s going to pounce on you as soon as you take a step.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose as she allows a low groan past her lips. Of course she could feel the lingering stares. There was no way she was going to deal with this right now, so she pushed it off once again as she walked out of the lobby. Angel was right, Lucifer was quick on his feet to chase her outside the lobby. Just before he could reach her, she whipped out her wings and dropped through a portal. He groaned and stepped up to the portal, glancing into it for a moment before it swirls to a close.

“Fuck.. Why is she so stubborn??”

His hands grazed through his hair to soothe his bubbling frustration as he walks back into the lobby. To which almost all of the rest of crew was staring back at him.

“I’m assuming that his majesty wasn’t able to speak with her once again?”

Lucifer grinds his teeth as he glares back at the radio demon. Horns threatened to grow from his forehead as bright crimson surrounds the sclera of his eye. Alastor’s has been clearly enjoying all the misery the king has been going through this whole time and didn’t skip any chances to rub it in his face.

“You fucking filthy prick”

Lucifer was on his wits end with the radio demon, with the only thing keep him from ripping him into tiny scorching pieces being his daughter. Who was currently standing next to the radio demon.

“I do wonder what you could have possibly done for her to shut you out your highness!”

Lucifer only growls and looks away from him, attempted to fizzle down the rising anger that he had ignited.

“Al-”

Vaggie attempted to interject into the conversation, but was interrupted by Alastor’s continued interrogation.

“I believe that everyone here can agree that she seems like a sweet girl, so I imagine that it must’ve been something quite horrible for her to avoid you like this.”

“I didn’t... it- it wasn’t like that”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat as he attempted to defend himself mostly for his own sanity as he looked away from the others. Alastor’s eyes narrowed down at the King as he tightens his grip on the apple staff he summoned. Alastor cackles at the fallen angel, and slips away into his shadows, content with the response he got. Silence fell heavy across the room once Alastor faded away, and everyone’s eyes turned back to Lucifer. He lifted his head to look to the others after taking a deep breath. His gaze stops on Charlie.

“I’ll talk to her.. I promise.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tsuki was now in Micheal’s office as usual, scanning through each paper of the binder he set out for her. She let out a heavy yawn as she rubbed the exhaustion out her eyes. Across from her the prince’s eyes narrowed looking over her face. He dropped his pen, and quickly grasped her chin turning her head to look up at him. Her eyes widened in surprise from the sudden touch as she looked over the blonde’s face. She felt her heart pounding against her chest and palms getting sweaty as she watched the man scan over her features. I didn’t do anything different! Does he know? Michael raised his other hand to rub the darkening circles under her eyes.

“Angel.. You’re overworking again aren’t you. Why?”

She swallowed, and she started to tremble from the sudden attention she was being given. He knew her tendencies after working with her for so long, and she appreciated his concern. However she could feel her long overdue breakdown surfacing, so she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and bit her tongue. Placing a gentle hand onto his, she responds.

“I’ve just had some stuff on my mind, nothing to worry over.”

The prince let her out of his grasp and let out a heavy sigh. Tsuki relieved to be able to separate from the archangel, took a step back from the desk and curtsied. Looking up to the prince, she could feel him still examining her every move.

“I- I’ll do better Michael.”

After he had looked to her and given her an approving nod she abruptly offered him a thank you and goodbye before walking through the portal he summoned with a simple flick of the wrist. Tsuki had left to go into the human realm and settled her rapid beating heart. Taking in a quick breath she readied herself as she approached the first on her list.

The deep blue sparks flicker around her as she passes through her first portal and assesses her surroundings. Her eyes settle and adjust to the bright LED lights that were held above her. Her lily-white wings beat and push her forward in the sickly white room toward the teal curtain that stood across the room. Gently she pushed open the curtain to approach the bed that was held behind it. Under the cotton covers held a small child, connected to machine that let out a soft beep every few seconds.

The young brunette turned her head to face the angel and held up her heavy eyelids as best as she could. Her breath was shaky, and she trembled from the aching that she held within. Tsuki allowed her wings to fall and proceeded to her place next to the bed. The sickly girl reached out her hand to hold her own. Keeping a hold on little one, Tsuki leaned forward and held the child’s hand in a soft embrace before placing the other onto her chest.

"It'll be okay."

She spoke softly to ensure that even if she didn't understand what she said, the little girl could still feel calm beside her. Violet glitters erupt from underneath her hand and spread throughout her figure, fading away as they slip into the child’s chest. The small brunette’s eyelids flutter close as she feels the soft fuzzy and warm feeling grow and flow within her. Tsuki smiles as she allows her magic to quickly finish and looks to the girl that was now sound asleep. The angel summoned a small towel and wiped away the sweat on her brow before placing the girl’s hand back to her side.

The clicks of sparks sound behind her, so she pulls the cotton cover back over her and turned back the other end of the room. Her sets of wings flap, and briskly drove her toward the portal that formed outside the curtain.

Through the portal she landed onto cold concrete. She squinted as she turned to look past the streetlamp that illuminated the dark road that Tsuki stood on. Repeated pangs of pain strain against her torso and shoulder pulls her towards the edge of the road. As she darts toward where her instincts were leading her, garbled staticky guitar plays from below her. Her eyes narrow as she spots a bright flashing light down the hill. She races towards the flashes and sound and finds a deep green vehicle flipped onto its side.

The green hood leaned against an oak tree and the glass was scattered across the ground from the impact the vehicle took. Tsuki calmly advanced and hovered over the doors ripping it open to find a young unconscious couple. She repeated the same process of unlocking the seatbelt’s retractor and shoved her arms under the hook of their knees and behind their backs to pull them out of the compact space before setting them both in the soft grass. After she does so, Tsuki works her magic and focuses on healing all of the clear injuries that she felt. The blood that was pushing past the gashes across their shoulders, chest, and head speedily comes to a halt as purple stitches and fills the injuries that they held. Tsuki lets out a deep breath as she finishes looking over to her chest, watching as the small piece of her that had gone transparent fills with her natural color once more. The familiar sound of sparks erupts to her side.

“No.. I need to get them some help.”

Tsuki flew past the oak, and towards the bright headlights that were running past the area below. Once she arrived at the edge of the highway, she focused her gaze onto a car that appeared past the curve.

Assuming a position in the middle of the street, Tsuki shut her eyes tight and pushed her hands together. Heat grew between her palms, and light pushed past her fingers as she held her grip together tightly. Suddenly she allows the pressure to push her hands apart and in front of her, causing a burst of light and start dust to fall from her palms. The vehicle that was approaching came to a hurling stop, and a door flew open. The guardian angel looked toward the accident and rushed towards it allowing more of the glitters to flow past her to form a path as she approached, once she finally arrived, she checked over the young couple. After she was sure they would be okay, she flew through another deep blue portal. She healed, and helped all the souls she could in the time she had.

It was always like this rush after rush of healing and helping certain people that she was summoned to. The guardian angel was used to this routine after doing it for many millennia. She was quick on her feet as she helped all of the souls that the divine had assigned for her. Flying through portal after portal, finding soul after soul. Throughout her lifetime she had gotten quick enough to be able to get through her “list” before Tsuki felt the need to stop, so she would keep going against Michael’s best wishes. It wasn’t any different this time, so by the time the angel realized she got too caught up in her work it was nearing morning in Hell.

Tsuki rubbed her temples and summoned her paperwork and a portal to the Hazbin hotel in a few snaps. The angel groaned holding the stack close to her chest as she entered the lobby. Silence reigned over the space that she stepped into. As she let out a sigh, Tsuki blinked a few times allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and kept her footsteps light as she walked past the lobby and to the elevator.

Once she had stepped into the elevator, Tsuki leaned her back against the wall of the elevator feeling herself rise to the top floor. Allowing her wings to finally rest into and fold back into her back, a small groan of relief leaves her lips, and she rolls her shoulders back at the feeling. Once she arrived at her floor, the guardian angel strolls towards her room and searches her pockets. Her eyebrows raise and panic abruptly washes over her as she continues searching after feeling that it wasn’t in its’ usual place. In her panicked state, the paperwork she held tightly fell from her grasp, and scattered across the floor.

“Fuck.. Just what I needed.”

A frustrated grumble leaves her as she realizes it must’ve still been in her room. Tsuki bent down feeling the soft carpet against her knees, and started arranging her papers back into their appropriate order. After checking through them, she sets a paperclip over the side of them.

Tsuki pauses and turns to position herself against the door, allowing a calm to flow over her soul. She leans her head back settling the back of her head against the wood and allows her eyes to close.

I’ve already used so much magic today. Should I get Alastor? Mmm It’s so late, I don’t want to bother him.

Tsuki stared down to inspect her legs, rubbing the outside of them gently. A small area on her lower calf was transparent. After finding this, she takes a gentle hold of her halo, and holds it above the area. Gentle stardust fell onto the area, and her color starts to emerge faster back into the area. It was a slow process sometimes. As she kept a watchful eye on her calf, a soft voice interrupts her focus.

“Hey..”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer watched the clock as hours and hours passed by, sitting at the bar, and waiting for Tsuki to come back to Hazbin hotel. He knew that the way things were going between them couldn’t last much longer, so he was determined to change it. The first few hours, the others kept him company, but they slowly dwindled away. It was nearly midnight before Charlie decided to pull her dad away, and to bed.

“Dad, maybe you should wait till tomorrow, it’s late.”

He looked back to her while he fidgeted with the tea bag that sat in his cup. He gave her a comforting smile after seeing her concerned expression. Lucifer pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Okay sweetie, I’m sorry about all of this.”

She reassured him that he didn’t need to apologize, and wrapped her arms around him too. After a few more moments, they allowed their arms loosen and pull away. Vaggie had lead her tired girlfriend back to bed, and Lucifer left to go to his own suite. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he ended up in his workshop sat with his head in his hands. Brick by brick thoughts built on top of each other in his mind. He worried over his daughter. Charlie didn’t need any more of this stress; she had enough to worry about with the hotel.

He stayed in that position for a little while, fidgeting with a few of the ducks that he had brought to his new room. Lifting his hand, a sigh releases from his lungs, and he watches as golden glitters fall from his palm and pile up on his desk.

Lucifer’s ears perk up as the silent ambiance of his room was broken by a thud, and mutters from outside his door. The fallen angel shakes off the dust from his hand and throws on his overcoat before heading out his doors to investigate. Once he had got past his workshop, and outside his suite, he turned his head towards the figure that sat in the hall, and approached it quietly. As he realized who it was, he fidgeted with the lapels of his coat and stood across from her.

“Hey..”

Tsuki looked up from her leg and to Lucifer. Her heart stutters for a moment, and rapidly beats against her chest trying to break free. Shakily, she allows her halo to return to its’ normal spot and returns his gaze with her own.

“Hello Lucifer”

His name left her lips bitterly as she looked up to the man, and he notably shifted from her tone. Despite this Lucifer bent down a little, and offered his hand for her to take. Reluctantly she took his hand, and stood from her spot leaving the stack to her side.

“I left my key inside.”

Tsuki stated the obvious, and looked away from his eyes. Her chest ached being so close to him. She wanted to run from him again. Do anything to avoid continuing this conversation.

“So you decided to work out here?”

Lucifer glanced down at her arranged paperwork, then returned his gaze back to her. It was obvious from the outside how exhausted she was. He felt an urgent pull within him to help smooth out her hair and pull her eyes back onto his but continued to fend it off. The guardian angel shrugged and looked past him towards the dim light that hung on the wall behind him. Deciding to bite the bullet, she asks.

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up, but could you help me?”

She really didn’t want to accept any help from the man in front of her, but the exhaustion that waved over her overruled the tension her heart felt.

“Yes, but we need to talk first.”

Is he kidding? She returned her gaze back to the man quickly with a small glare.

“What is there to talk about?”

Lucifer scoffs, and returns her annoyance with his own.

“Really?”

“Alright fine, but no.”

She understood where he was coming from, but she didn’t want to allow him to force her into a conversation like this. The King looked back to her and shook his head to rid the bubbling frustration that grew within him.

“No?”

Lucifer looked towards her with disbelief, but Tsuki felt the string of tension that had tightened day by day finally snap as she stood her ground. Her fists clench at her sides as she keep her gaze fixed on him.

“No, you don’t to keep me hostage like this. You don’t get to decide when we discuss this! You’re the one who left remember!?”

She snapped back at him. She felt the overwhelming feelings that have been stirring within since the moment she saw him again fumed out of her like a flight train. Decidedly her refusal to discuss became hypocritical as words came fumbling out of her, but it was too late to turn back now.

“You two decided to throw me to the side while you did your big plan with Eve! Was I not good enough? Did you think that I would, what? hold you back?”

Her words chipped away his own simmering anger as Lucifer watched her expression shift. He had never seen her like this, so resentful. The wings that had folded into the back her neck flung out. Her tone brimmed over with desperation and anger as she questioned the man.

“No! Tsuki you have to understand. We didn’t want you to try to do it yourself. It was dangerous we all knew that.”

She laughed in disbelief. Lucifer stood in shock as he watched her shifting anger. Her eyes were frigid, and stern. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to frame himself as in the right. To her, in the moment, it really didn’t matter why they did what they did.

“Really? Because it seemed pretty fucking easy for you to ditch me. Isn’t that what you guys always wanted to do?

She paused as she ran a hand through her hair. They had never even told her what they were planning. No one ever made her aware of what they did.

I wandered for years, searching everywhere throughout Eden for any trace of them. I was ill with worry for the two until insecurity took over. Whispers grew louder in the back of my mind of why they could’ve left. Was I too much? Were they hurt? Was I not enough? Not worth even saying goodbye to? I couldn’t stop searching if there was any chance that thoughts that laid engraved in the back of my mind were wrong. I cared too much for them to stop.

“I couldn’t leave Eden. Do you understand how isolated I was? Do you know how it feels to be abandoned like that?”

Lucifer’s heart quivered from her words, and he held his wrist tight with his other hand as he waited for her to finish. She had quickly pushed herself forward till she was directly in front of the King, pointing a finger directly to his chest she looked up into his hurt eyes.

“I felt like nothing. You made me feel worthless.”

A long pause of silence fell between the two as she spat out her last sentence. Catching her breath as she looked away from Lucifer. Her quick beating heart suddenly felt more evident as she tried to calm herself, and the wounded expression she last saw, hurt her more than she would like to admit.

The painful moment feels like it could last forever, but Tsuki goes to take a step back and let her hand fall from him. However, before she could go too far, he took a gentle grasp of her hand. She snapped her head back to look back at him and examined his remorseful eyes. Logic told her to rip her hand away and step back, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

“I’m sorry.. We- I never wanted you to feel that way Tsuki.”

She paused. They had hurt her so badly. How could she feel so badly for him? It wasn’t fair for her. It wasn’t right. Why was her anger waning? Lucifer kept his hand around her own, and stared down at the hold.

“It’s not the same, but I do know what it’s like to be left behind… I’m sorry that I put you through that pain.”

What? What does he mean? Heaven maybe?

“Who-?”

“Lilith.”

A strain pulled between the two. Lilith? No.. what? Confusion wrapped around Tsuki’s mind. That’s why she hasn’t seen her since she’s arrived. That’s why Charlie doesn’t talk about her. She knew Lilith. She wouldn’t do that. They were enraptured in love the last time she saw them; that couldn’t fade. Why would she do that? What happened? Before Tsuki could stop it the question that last built in her mind slipped through her.

“What did you do?”

As soon as the question slipped past her lips, guilt weaved its’ way through her and she gripped his hand with her free one. If he truly felt the way that he described then she knew that he had probably asked himself that already too many times.

“Wait I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Lucifer tried to brush off her comment as he looked away from her, and let her hand fall from his own.

“It’s okay.. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but maybe I could ask for us to be cordial? For the hotel, for Charlie?

Tsuki gave Lucifer a silent nod. Once he saw her accept his favor, his crimson eyes looked to the door past her, and with a small flick of the wrist, Tsuki’s door was open, and her paperwork was placed back onto her desk.

“Good night then Tsuki.”

Lucifer gave her one last glance, and turned away. She remained in her place as his golden magic surrounded his figure and left nothing in his place. Her jaw clenched as she clutched the hand he touched with the other. Agony rooted it’s way to the back of her throat and her vision became blurry.

It hurts, everything hurts. It’s not supposed to be like this. Is this pathetic? Am I pathetic? I’m supposed to hate him right? Why do I-

Her knees felt like they could crumble underneath her as she stared off in the hallway. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to stay outside, she turned back towards the open door and took a few heavy steps through. Tsuki felt her mind going a mile a minute as she pressed forward until her eyes turned down to the crimson comforter in front of her. She placed a shaky hand onto it and pushed herself onto the bed slipping underneath cool sheets. Her eyes were on the ceiling as she tried to calm the burning that wouldn’t leave her throat.

If everything he said was true, where was Lilith? How long has she been gone?

Tsuki gripped and pulled the hair on the back of her neck as an attempt to soothe herself.

Eventually, after a few hours, she was able to fizzle down the fire in her throat, and rubbed away the tears that flooded her eyes. She fell underneath her weighted eyelids, and the cozy comforter that wrapped around her lulled her further slowly, drifting away until she had to face Lucifer once again the next morning.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fanfiction #hazbin hotel lucifer #fem reader #self insert #angst

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