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whytheylosttheirminds · 8 months ago

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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy.

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it.

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you?

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss.

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken.

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer.

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens.

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am.

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times.

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said.

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers.

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love.

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on.

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later.

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything.

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps.

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt.

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him.

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq

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cloakedsparrow · 11 months ago

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One of those 'Tim joins the bat family early because the Drakes are neglectful' AUs, only after the bats take him in and he's starting to figure out that this family is different, Bruce makes an offhand comment about dinner time and Tim's like "together?" His tone is cautiously hopeful but his eyes just light up at the thought of regular family dinners, something he's always wanted. Bruce, who is normally terrible about either waiting until after dinner to go out for patrol or coming back for dinner, decides on the spot that nothing will keep him from family dinner outside of a Rogue breakout or Justice League level event.

Alfred notices this and decides he's absolutely going to weaponize this kid to make his insane family take care of themselves better.

After dinner one day, when Batman and Robin were planning to head back out, Alfred casually mentions that maybe -if he has the time- Jason could go over Tim's book report with him, since the boy is worried about his English grade. The boy takes the bait. Of course he does. It's literature and his new little brother; the two things Jason loves even more than being Robin. He stays in to help Tim.

With some subtle grandfatherly nudging, this then becomes a thing. Jason will go out with Bruce for two or three hours, depending on the time of year, come back for dinner with him at eight, and -if it's been a slow night- stay in. He loves being Robin, of course, but he also loves his new family and his schooling, so Jason's perfectly happy to do homework and read or play with Tim until bedtime (unless Bruce needs backup or it's Summer vacation).

Tim is sick and Alfred mentions something about taking it easy and that he, or maybe the boy's father, will come check on him before bed. Before Bruce can even mention that he was going to be on an extended stakeout, Tim catches something in his expression and starts explaining that it's okay. He understands that Bruce is busy and he's not a baby. He doesn't need to be tucked in or anything.

Bruce decides on the spot that he will not be like Jack or Willis, who were gone all the time. He comes back at ten to check on Tim and make sure that Jason goes to bed. He then continues to come back sometime between ten and eleven to put the boys to bed. If it's been slow, he'll even stay in.

With all the extra energy he has now that he's sleeping better, Jason decides to join the school drama club. He revels in it. Alfred mentions his upcoming play to Tim (in front of Bruce), who wants to know if it would be weird if he brought jay flowers because that's a thing at plays, right? Bruce not only puts off Batman to make it to Jason's play, but he leaves early enough to stop at a flower shop with Tim.

Dick comes home for dinner after the play and Alfred makes a comment on how nice it is to have the whole family together for dinner. When both Tim and Jason agree (looking slightly wistful, as Alfred knew they would) Dick readily agrees to come home once every couple of weeks for a family dinner.

Every couple of weeks becomes every week. Then dinner becomes staying the night. Then he starts paroling Gotham since the was staying the night anyway and he Bruce start getting along a lot better. Then he's there for dinner, patrol, and breakfast the next morning. Then he's there for the whole weekend.

The next thing Dick knows, he's put in for a transfer at work and is toting his little brothers around while he goes apartment shopping in Gotham and he's not sure how the whole thing started. He can't remember if it was him or Bruce or maybe Alfred (it was totally Alfred) who started the discussion on all the driving and how Gotham could really use him now that he's cleaned up the BPD. He just knows his little brothers and father had each showed their version of excitement at the idea and now here he is.

Alfred makes sure to make Tim's favorite foods for a while.

#dc #comics #fanfiction #fic ideas I don't have the time to play with #Bat Family #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #robin #tim drake #tim wayne #dick grayson #nightwing

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weebsinstash · 9 months ago

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I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #alastor x reader #hh #sinprompts #god do you ever think about how people in hell feel miserable if their family is on heaven #you dont WANT your loved one to be suffering in hell but... if thwy were at least you could still see them #catch me crying out here piss drunk to alastor because my mom/granny are in heaven and he nods knowingly bc his mom isnt down there either

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kayjaywrites · 9 months ago

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Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 6,350 Chapter Music Inspo: End of It - Friday Pilots Club

Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie

Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!

Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~

XxXx

Prologue

It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.

Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.

They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.

It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.

Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle.

It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.

Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.

Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.

You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.

The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.

It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.

You would take the job.

Not to be a spy for Kier.

Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.

It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.

But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.

However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.

...one year and a couple months later....

It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.

That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.

You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.

It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a little over a year into your career.

The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.

Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.

Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.

When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.

And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.

Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.

When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.

Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.

And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.

Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”

Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”

“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”

The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”

“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”

Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”

You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”

You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.

“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.

If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.

“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.

Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.

XxXx

Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.

Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.

The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.

“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.

But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”

You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.

“You forgot your bag.” He observed.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”

“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.

“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”

If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.

Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.

You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.

“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”

He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”

His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.

Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?

Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.

He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?

“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.

Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.

A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”

“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.

Subtle.

Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.

What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.

And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.

So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.

Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.

Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.

Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over a year of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.

So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over his naked chest.

You know, simple.

The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.

Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.

Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.

He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?

Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.

"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.

You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.

Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.

It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.

Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.

It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.

You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.

He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.

Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.

Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.

Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.

Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.

He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.

Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.

Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.

Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remained.

Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”

Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!

He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"

Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.

You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.

Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.

"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.

"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.

"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.

He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."

You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.

Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.

He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”

You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.

"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.

You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.

The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.

You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.

"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"

"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."

Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.

Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.

And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.

And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.

XxXx

Next Chapter

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel x you #friends to lovers #slow burn #one bed trope #one shot #one shot series #azriel #my writing #kayjaywrites #like bugs in a rug

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 28 days ago

Note

interaction with mama or papa leech (or both) please!

yuu was walking down the hallway along with jade and floyd, exchanging stories of recent happenings before it was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out to them.

"jade! floyd!"

by the looks of the twins' excited expressions and the occasion of family day, they connected the dots that it must be their parents and swiftly hid behind one of the brothers before the person came into view, trying to remove their own presence. although jade had clarified that they had a normal family business, they can't help but get nervous and perhaps a bit frightened, especially with how the leech's definition of "normal" is quite... questionable. maybe if they're lucky, they can make a run for it before they start to take notice...

(i hope i did this right!)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Mother and father.”

“Mom!! Pops!!”

You hesitantly peered out from behind the twins. Two lanky figures towered over you, as imposing as skyscrapers.

Mr. Leech was stone-faced, skin slightly grooved like a rock carved by the crashing waves, teal hair streaked with black slicked back with gel. His eyes were like beacons of light searching in the night--sharp, discerning. He wore a smart pinstriped suit, polished shoes, and gloves, reminding you of an older Jade.

Mrs. Leech's lithe form was wrapped in an off-the-shoulder sun dress, the slit of it riding halfway up her thigh, skirt spilling into a waterfall of gathered tulle. A string of creamy pearls--simple, understated--drapes across her collar. Her wide brim hat shaded her face, but you could still admire how she had expertly painted her lips and eyes, how her hair fell in a loose wave over one shoulder. She was like Floyd, mixing an impeccable fashion sense with a slight hint of danger.

When Mrs. Leech spotted her sons, she charged at them at a speed that was shocking for a woman in high heels. She threw her arms around Jade and Floyd, pulling them in for a tight hug.

"My babies!! I've missed you so much, darlings," she gushed. "How are classes? How are clubs? You must tell me everything...!"

“It’s wonderful to see you as well. We have much to catch up on.”

“Ehehehe~ Mom? you’re squeezin’ me so hard! Watch out, cuz I’ll get’cha back!!”

Mr. Leech cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption, but..." His eyes cut to you—no longer concealed by the twins—and you froze, pinned in place by his stern gaze. “It seems we have a stranger in our midst. Jade and Floyd's... friendly acquaintance, I presume."

Mrs. Leech released her children. “Just a moment, dear!!”

The giantess appeared before you, her shadow larger than life. You managed a single shaky step backwards before her claw-like nails dug into you.

“Ah, mom went right to work,” Floyd said in a singsong.

“Do stay still,” Jade advised you. “It will make the process go by much more quickly.”

J-Just what is going to happen to me?!

Mrs. Leech’s hands ran the length of your body and its crevices. She never lingered in one spot. Pat, pat, pat, then onto the next area.

A full body pat-down?!

“All clear,” Mrs. Leech called to her husband.

“Excellent. That is a relief." Mr. Leech adjusted his tie and offered a wane smile. "Excuse us. We're in the habit of running through a series of safety protocols before receiving guests. Unfortunately, it's terribly inefficient to carry out in a public setting." He paused. "... How do you feel about signing nondisclosure agreements?"

"N-Nondisclosure agreements?!"

"Honey, you're going to terrify the poor thing," Mrs. Leech tutted--but she was giggling faintly as though she had just heard a witty joke. "Don't worry. My husband can be a very gentle man."

D-Don't that imply he also has the capacity to be very ungentle?!

"E-Erm..." You worriedly glanced at the twins, who were smirking (but, you had noticed, not actually intervening).

"What does your family do, anyway?" you once asked Jade.

He had taped a finger to his lips and mysteriously answered, "They simply run an independent business that dabbles in a bit of everything. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."

"Some help here, guys?" you whimpered.

"Sorry, not much we can do," Floyd responded with a (very unhelpful) shrug. "Dad's got his stuffy processes. No one can get in the way of those."

"I-I'm not going to be roped into making as blood pact, am I?!"

"Blood pact? My, what an active imagination you have." Jade chuckled. "I believe I have informed you before that our family business is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Frankly, I'm not sure I believe you anymore!"

"Oh my~ Did you hear that, dear?" Mrs. Leech grabbed her husband by the arm. "It sounds as though Jade and Floyd's friend doesn't trust us."

"Indeed." He was smiling, but it did not fully reach his eyes. "It would be a shame if we allowed them to walk away with the wrong impression of our happy little family."

"Fufufu... We'll have to correct that, won't we?"

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #Floyd Leech #Reader #Jade Leech #Tweels #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #NRC Family Day #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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ellssbellss · 2 years ago

Note

I may or may not have been awake for about 48 house, so I wanted to ask a request before I fall asleep.

The hosts when their SO was up for 2 days straight doing work and starts to slip when get to the host club and acting a little bit too much like the Kyoya.

been thinking about this more than my actual story lately, and i have terrible writer's block, so hopefully this will help! {thank you, anon for the idea!}

The Host Club and their Sleepy, Cranky S.O. {Ohshc X Gender Neutral!Reader}

.oOo.

"mon amour? you need to wake up, darling." tamaki's voice whispers gently in your ear.

the darkness that had surrounded you minutes ago suddenly vanishes as you open your eyes, your head swiftly lifting off of the hard surface that you had rested your eyes upon just a few minutes ago.

it had been just a few minutes, right?

coming out of your tired daze, you feel a warm hand under your chin, and your eyes are turned to meet the concerned, violet gaze of your boyfriend. he is positioned above you, one soft hand resting the club's table in front of you and the other on your face, trailing gently from the point of your chin to the roundness of your cheekbones as his thumb runs gently over the skin there.

"my love, do you know what time it is?" his voice was like butter as dips his head a little deeper, worry creasing his perfect face as he watches you lean into his touch almost automatically.

"mmph..." through his stress about your exhausted state, he giggles slightly as you sigh and shrug, your eyelids dropping more with each second. "i don't know, love."

"it's nine, (y/n)."

"what?" any haze that had chained your brain was broken as you shot out of his gentle hold.

straightening your back, you peer towards the large windows that created a barrier between the club room and the outside world, seeing an endless night erasing any of the natural light you had experienced when you walked in here after class.

"it's nine o'clock?" panicked, the chair screeches across pristine tile as you grab at the things scattered across the table. laptop, charging cords, notebooks and pencils all make their way into your grasp as you hurriedly shove them into your bag. "why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

tamaki had watched the stress bunch up in your shoulders the minute you broke away from his grasp. he watches it wind into your muscles and face as you close up your pack and swing it around one arm, hastily pushing the chair in.

"you look like you needed your rest." he says softly, taken aback by your harsh tone. "i talked to my father to let us stay here a little while longer, since i know you have been working really hard on that project you have, and i thought-"

"exactly!" without raising your voice, he feels the sharp frustration rolling off the tip of your tongue, and it pierces something tender as you whip around to face him. "i have been working so hard not to get behind on my schedule, and now that's all out window. why didn't you wake me up like I asked?"

yellow eyebrows raise as you bite back at him, and he is getting whiplash from the sudden venom in your voice. "i tried, (y/n), but you didn't wake up!" his hands move in an pleading gesture. "you shoved my hand off when i tried to shake you and faced the other way when i kissed your cheek. the end of the world couldn't wake you."

your lips purse as your eyes squint and roll, and you stomp towards the door. stuttering, your golden retriever boyfriend follows behind as you nearly rip the door off it's hinges in your haste.

his words are rushed as he rushes to follow you out of the club room as you make your way down the long, empty staircase. "truly, you're not as behind as you might think, angel, not with all the work you've been doing?"

"you would think, huh?" another frustrated sigh escapes you, but it's more tuned towards yourself than anything. you push through the grand entrance of the school.

tamaki chases you out into the moonlight. his tall form stops in the doorframe though, when he sees the way the pale light drapes over your figure.

your usual bright stance sags in the night, and the hand he loves to hold rakes harshly through your perfect locks before it disappears to run down your face.

"(y/n), mon amour, what's wrong?" you hear his dress shoes click against the pavement. long arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a soft cheek nuzzles against the side of your face. tamaki tightens his hold, encouraging you to melt into his form. "talk to me."

after nothing more than a second, you do, because how could you not?

your head falls back as your spine molds into the bends and divots of tamaki's long torso, and a deep, shuddering sigh ripples out of you.

"i'm sorry, my love." tamaki feels your apology vibrate against his chest. "i just-, i've been extra stressed lately."

"about your project?"

"yes."

"why, angel?"

your neck twists, and you meet your prince's gaze in the complexity of his embrace, and tamaki sees the deep circles under your eyes. he notes how they had darkened since the last time he noticed them.

"i just have a lot riding on my grade for this course. my mother is counting on me for the future of her company, and if this project doesn't go well, then..."

"stop it." the comforting hug he had wrapped you in briefly vanishes as his touch pulls against your uniform. his fingers travel up your waist and forearms, gently grasping your shoulders as he spins you around to face him. "stop thinking like that."

when you're looking at him, his hands run up the rest of your body to your face, holding your jawline in his touch. "you've been working and worrying for two days, mon amour. you haven't been taking care of yourself, and there is nothing more important than your wellbeing."

his tone is different from his gallivanting, and incredibly endearing, dramatics. it's gracefully intense, like when he helped a struggling doctor find his way to his estranged daughter. the way he looks at you is also fierce, love and determination swimming in his purple irises.

"tamaki..."

"why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

"i haven't had the time!" your voice tries weakly to defend yourself, but tamaki raises another eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "there isn't enough time in the day for me to work as hard as i have been and get a full night's rest."

"then why haven't you come to me about it?"

"i...i don't know." defeated, there is a drop in your gaze as you give up trying to defend yourself. "i thought i could do it on my own."

"you don't have to do anything on your own. not when you're with me." tamaki bends slightly to get into your line of sight. "you know you can talk to me, (y/n); that i'm here to give you anything and everything you need."

your (e/c) eyes whip back up to him. "i know that, love, but i-"

"no buts. you come to me if you need me. that's how it has always been for us."

the moonlight reflects off the small amount of wetness in your eyes, and tamaki's serious expression crumples. all of your stress and exhaustion breathes out of your body at his words. he smiles softly as you bury your face in his chest, placing his hand on your hair and another at your back, kissing the side of your head.

"i need you." your voice sings through the night, into the air as it's carried into the rose garden, red petals fully in bloom.

.oOo.

kyoya has seen this look before.

the tension of your lips as they writhe over your teeth. the slam of your footsteps as you make your way over to your usual seat across from him. especially the small smile you give to whomever greets you.

the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. the smile that falls immediately after you give some random excuse to dismiss yourself from the conversation, and you let it fall because you think no one is looking.

but kyoya was watching.

"good morning, (y/n)." he greets over his laptop as you click open your own, and you meet his gaze briefly before turning your attention back to your computer, giving him the same dismissive smile.

being that he was your boyfriend, that hurt a little.

"good morning, kyo."

he lets his eyes linger on the bored, dull look that you attach to your screen, accompanied by your sluggish movements and purple smudges under your eyes. a dark eyebrow quirks from behind his glasses as your chest rises with a sigh, and your face crinkles despairingly at whatever you are working on.

"what are you doing?"

your lashes flick up to him once more before returning back to your task at hand. "i'm working on the budget."

he blinks a little at your reply. "still?"

the tension from your mouth seeps into your form at his question, and you shift in your seat. "yes, love, thank you so much for pointing that out."

lips parting slightly at the sarcasm in your voice, the club's director raises his fingers off of his keyboard, favoring to clasp them under his chin instead as a more calculating gaze sweeps the figure of his beloved.

he catches an eyebrow twitch, a flare of your nostrils, the way your head bobs slightly before you shake it, as if that could erase the pure exhaustion radiating from you.

yes, kyoya has seen this look before.

in the mirror.

"how much sleep did you get last night, my dear?"

this time, you don't even look at him when you answer. you just shrug at him, too focused on your typing to really concentrate on a reply. "i don't know. maybe an hour or so-."

a sharp flare of concern rises in his chest before you spin your computer on it's base, shoving the screen in his direction with a wary look in your eye. "does this look right to you? i feel like something's missing."

his hands are still at his mouth when he glances at the spreadsheet you two created together, the perfect, color coded numbers arranged into straight columns.

but his brow furrows even more the longer he looks at it. lowering his hands to the device, kyoya pulls it closer to him as he scrolls through, skimming the text for any sign of error or miscalculation.

he finds none.

"(y/n), this is perfect." his pupils dart across the page behind his frames. "i have no idea what you're stressing over."

the laptop is pulled away from him once more as you run a hand through your hair. "no, no." you hit the backspace button on your keyboard, tired eyes squinting over the excel sheet. "something isn't right."

your aggressive typing fills the air once more, a little more frenzied and anxious than a minute before.

kyoya leans back in his chair, still observing. "(y/n), have you been working out this budget since the time i sent it to you?"

"of course."

"that was two days ago."

"i know."

he stands, pushing out his chair, but you don't notice. "have you slept at all?"

"not really. i've been going through the math, the incoming inventory. sure, it looks perfect now, and we are within this month's spending range, but i know there's a way to save more money. if i could just-"

"that," the lid of your computer is suddenly pushed down, closing the screen in front of you. a pale hand with pianist-like fingers attached to it splays across your protective case. "is more than enough, then."

"kyoya!" you sit in front of him, shock emanating from your face as his name is gasped from your lips. "what the hell?"

kyoya leans in front of you, one hand bracing your laptop closed while the other slips into the pocket of his trousers. his raven hair falls into his eyes a little bit, but the gray color is still piercing and raw.

"my dear," he pulls away slightly, adding pressure onto your computer so that it drags to his side of the table. "you need to take a break."

"a break?" you rise as well, trying to keep a cool demeanor. but your director could tell that your patience was thinning. "i'm on the brink of figuring this out, and you want me to take a break?"

"you already have figured it out, (y/n). i looked it over. you found the solution."

"but it could be better."

quickly, kyoya rounds the table, walking into your space to grab one of your hands.

he places both of his palms around one of your own, trying to get through to you through his touch instead of his words, even if the connection was small.

"how much sleep have you had in the past forty-eight hours?"

abandoned by the distraction your work gave you, you now face your boyfriend head on as he studies your movements.

since the moment you met him, kyoya has always watched you intently. as a man who didn't involve himself with anything that he didn't care greatly for, the process of dating him has and will always include him taking the time to observe and study you; to commit your mannerisms to memory. gray irises will forever notice how you bounce your leg underneath your desk when you have something to say but won't say it out right. or how you take your (f/h/d) in the morning, and the exact brand that you use.

or how your face lights up when he comes into view from down the hallway, and you excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

or how you always seem to kiss him with soothing, deep movements, which always encourages him to respond in kind.

but, very rarely is that intent stare coupled with concern.

yet, here it was, bathing his beloved gaze as he waits for your reply, leaving you with an aching heart. you think back to they way you've been acting, cranky and stand-offish, and a pang of regret sparks in your stomach.

your hand adjusts slightly in his as you hold onto his grasp, albeit a little nervously.

"you want the truth?" your beautiful eyes break his gaze as you stubbornly shift in place.

"always."

"not very much. maybe three hours." he swallows as that sharp flare of concern burns into an engulfing flame in his torso. "in total."

A disappointed frown etches onto his handsome features, but it's not angry. it's sad.

sad that he didn't see your exhaustion before, not in it's totality. he saw your frequent yawns and the way you tended to drift off mid-conversation, but he was busy with work as well, and couldn't connect the dots until now.

"(y/n)-"

"i know, i know. it's not the best." you take a deep breath and look at him with more confidence, ready to admit to your actions. "the perfectionist in me kind of let loose. i'm sorry, i just wanted it to be the best that it could be. for the club, ya know? for you."

tugging on your clasped hands, a deep hum resonates from the ootori son as he draws you closer. soon, your hands naturally loop around his neck while he settles his hold at your waist.

his forehead rests on yours as he sighs deeply, and you close your eyes as his low voice reaches your ears. "i think the best thing for me and the club is for you to get some rest."

he smirks a little as he feels you giggle tiredly against him. "yeah, i think you're right."

kyoya chuckles softly as he raises his forehead off of yours to place a kiss in the same spot. "i'm always right, my dear."

.oOo.

"hikaru! stop it!"

arms caged yours as you writhed against his chest. your legs were wild as they kicked up into the air, barely missing your boyfriend as he picked you up from where you had sat on your desk.

"put me down right now! what are you even doing?"

he grunts a little as your swinging legs hit his calves before throwing you down on your bed. unceremoniously, the bed frame creaks with your weight as you land face first into your duvet.

a loud huff escapes you as you turn around from your position, seeing hikaru standing at the foot of your bed with his arms crossed, a victorious smile plastered onto his sharp mouth.

"well, i asked you to take a break from your studying. and you said 'make me.'" his fingers come to either side of his head to create quotation marks. "so i made ya."

"i didn't mean literally, jackass." you grumble as you shift. your palms push your body up off the bed and spin you so that you are seated properly on your comforter. scooting roughly to the edge of your mattress, you barely stand up before your pushed onto the bed again.

"hikaru!"

"nope. not gonna happen."

"i need to study!"

"that's what you've been saying for the past two days!" his rough voice sounds exasperated as he gestures wildly to you. "in the clubroom, in the cafeteria, on our facetime calls. shit, (y/n), i don't think there has been a single second where i haven't seen that textbook open in front of you."

he points to the hefty calculus book open on your desk, three quarters of the pages turned to one side.

"that's what studying is!" you move to get up again with another frustrated sigh. "my test is tomorrow, my love, i can't afford any breaks right now."

this time, instead of simply pushing your back onto the bed, hikaru pins you down. in a flash, golden eyes fill your vision as his fingers clamp around your wrist. when you fall back, his weight takes you down as he flops heavily on your chest.

"you're not going anywhere, baby. not until you tell me what's going on."

"nothing is going on." you huff, blowing a few of his ginger strands out of his face. "now get off me."

"i don't believe you." ever the stubborn twin, hikaru makes a point to wiggle his body on top of yours to amplify the fact that you have no hope of pushing him off. "and i'm not moving until i believe you."

"what?" you bite back.

a more serious tone laces his voice as he scans you. "today, during club hours, you looked like a zombie."

you shoot him a blank look. "thanks."

"a gorgeous zombie, but still."

"not helping."

a crease forms between his eyebrows at your usually soft, bright tone crackling into dry one. "you were dragging your feet, and talking to yourself more than usual. it was creepy."

you rolled your eyes, and hikaru watches as the bags under your eyes moved with the motion, his jaw setting into a firm line.

"so i'm not getting off of you until you tell me what's been up your ass lately."

offended, you gasp and writhe once more, trying to break free of the surprisingly strong grasp the hitachiin twin has on your wrists. "i don't have time for this!"

he chuckles a little at your flustered expression and sinks more of his weight onto your figure. "well, if you're not going to take a break, than i will. i think i'll take a little nap on this comfortable bed."

realizing he doesn't need to pin your arms down anymore with all of his weight on you, he lets go and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his arms and legs sprawling out over your uniform.

"don't you dare, hikaru!" you say as you try to bring your arms underneath him to push him off, but he's just a block of dead weight.

his breath hits your ear, and you can feel the mischievous smile on his lips. "oh, wow, this is a bumpy mattress." wriggling, he adjusts so that he locks perfectly into your body, and a deep sigh emits from his lungs. "that's better."

another weak push strains your muscles before you give up completely. flopping back onto the mattress, you let out a frustrated groan.

"hikaru, please."

"oh, the mattress speaks?"

"my love."

laughing, he presses a kiss onto the column of your throat. "what's up, baby?"

like a weighted blanket, hikaru's body flush against yours has calmed your heart rate slightly, and all the exhaustion and stress that you have been feeling suddenly comes to a head.

your arms lift from your sides to wrap around his toned back, and you turn your face into the divot connecting his shoulder and his collarbone, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne and laundry detergent.

"i've been awake for the past forty-eight hours."

his chest rumbles with a sympathetic hum. "i know."

"i'm tired."

his head pops up from the embrace, and sincerity shines in the liquid gold of his irises. "let's take a nap, and then we can figure something out afterwards, yeah?"

you can already feel your eyelids dragging over your pupils. "yeah, that sounds nice."

as you succumb to your fatigue, you barely register the way hikaru rolls off of you. his warmth returns when you feel an arm wedge itself under your waist and pull you to him so that you can lay on his chest with ease. the other wraps around your shoulders, and you feel his breath tickling the top of your head as he settles in beside you.

"thanks for telling me, baby."

.oOo.

"so, i think because i found the magnitude of this vector, than i should be able to find the acceleration, right?" kaoru asks, back hunched over his desk, spinning a pencil in his left hand as he concentrates on the paperwork in front of him.

when he doesn't get a response, he stops fidgeting and looks over to you: his incredibly intelligent, and usually helpful, partner.

you're sat next to him, slaving away at your laptop while he watches the blue light practically burn your retinas.

well, sat is a strong word.

you slouched, your neck barely able to keep your head on your shoulders as you worked at his desk, fingers robotically clicking at your mouse and dragging images to their predetermined place, your graphic design coming to fruition with each release of a button.

"(y/n)?"

at the sound of your name, your spine flinches slightly as it straightens. you whip your head towards him with such a quick motion, that he winces at the twist of the muscle, hoping you didn't get whiplash.

his hopes are dashed when you immediately face the front, bringing one of your hands up to massage the nape of your neck.

"are you okay?"

"i'm fine," you breathe, exhaustion sprinkled in your sigh. "what did you need?"

cautiously, kaoru slides his paper over to you while you shift closer to him, pulling your chair over until your legs touch underneath his desk.

"i don't know if i got this problem right."

through a yawn, your eyes scan his homework, everything coming together in a blurry font due to your lack of sleep. you can barely make out his handwriting on your best day, so the fact that you hardly think straight doesn't really help.

but you couldn't let kaoru know that.

"it looks good, babe."

he quirks a ginger eyebrow, glancing between the paper and then back up to where you sat.

"yeah?" he asks, studying you carefully.

"for sure."

"okay, well then," your boyfriend flips the paper over, where another disarray of words meet you. he scribbles something out before circling an answer choice from his options, then looks back at you. "that must be right, too, yeah?"

you nod, blinking slowly. "mhmm." you turn to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "you're so smart, love."

his lips curve up into a half-smirk as he tilts his head, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. golden irises squint as he glances over your face once more. "it's a smiley face."

your smile fades. "huh?"

the sneaky twin gestures towards the paper again, and after rubbing your palms over your eye-sockets, a happy face penciled in lead comes into accusing focus.

"i drew a smiley face, and you said i was smart." kaoru summarizes, a deadpan tone only being interrupted slightly as he laughs through his sentence. "what is going on with you?"

a frustrated whine ripples past your throat as you rest your head in your hands. your voice breaks into a quiet groan, and while your volume doesn't rise, your disappointment does. "god, this essay is making me lose my mind! i can't even think clearly, let alone write three more pages of this shit."

"hey, woah." kaoru rests his hand against your spine and rubs it, moving his hand back and forth in calming motions. "talk to me."

another deep sigh rushed out of you as you talk behind your hands, and your poor boyfriend can't hear a single thing.

the hand on your back glides to the side of your face, bringing your chin up and out of your grasp. he locks his gaze with yours as he leans back in his chair. "try again, babe."

"this essay makes me want to jump off a cliff."

"and you were gonna do that without me? i thought we had an agreement."

"shut up." despite yourself, you laugh.

the fingers on your chin shift to your scalp while he laughs with you, pushing only a few of the stray hairs away from your face. "have you slept?"

"not well."

kaoru notes a redness in your eyes he didn't see before. "not well, or not at all?"

you roll your eyes a little, but he knows it's not directed at him. you're disappointed in yourself. "a mix of both." hastily you look back at him, widening your eyelids a little at a poor attempt to look more awake.

"but it's no big deal!" your voice is a little too bright. "i can catch up on sleep once i submit this paper."

the gingered twin squints his eyes, but to your surprise, he shrugs, spinning in his office chair as he refocuses on his work. "yeah, i guess you're right. i get it."

your mouth was slightly agape at the fact that that actually worked. "you get it?"

"yeah. sometimes, people just can't sleep enough with everything going, ya know? i only got two hours of sleep last night, so i understand what you're going through."

there's a pause. kaoru fights a smirk as he scratches an equation into the top right of his paper.

"what?" a concerned voice reaches his ears, and he almost feels bad for lying. "only two hours?"

"mhmm." he hums, not even giving you a second glance.

"kaoru," the sweetest whine escapes your lips as he feels a hand on his shoulder. he steels his expression into one of confused nonchalance as he faces you again, only to be met with the spot you get between your crinkled eyebrow when you're worried. "why didn't you tell me?"

"what do you mean? it's not a big deal."

"yes it is!" your other hand reaches his opposite shoulder, and he turns to face you fully, reveling in your touch as you move to cradle his face. "sleep is important, babe, you can't just-"

his grin widens as a flash of realization flutters across your face. The worry in your features melts into a blank expression, and he laughs as you push his face away from yours, muttering a "jackass" under your breath.

the sneaky twin closes the distance though, pulling your chair ever closer to his to where nothing was standing in his way to pull you to his lap. you resist slightly, pouting as your sat into the space between his legs, but a natural, familiar gravity pulls you towards him anyway, and your face rests gently in the crook of his neck.

"rest for a couple minutes, okay? your paper will be here when you wake up."

a contended sigh seeps out of you as your exhaustion bubbles up to the surface. your eyelids begin to drop when you speak into his neck. "and what about you?"

kaoru's arms come to wrap around your folded form, burying you closer into his chest. "i'll always be here."

.oOo.

mori had gotten used to your talkative nature. being a man of little words, you complimented him well with your bright, energetic commentary about anything that excited you.

he supposed that he hadn't just gotten used to your bubbly personality shining through your lovely voice, he had come to love it; to rely on it.

so, when you entered your usual sparring session with your heels dragging on the wooden floor of the dojo, not only did the air feel off, he felt off.

your white gi hung off your rounded shoulders, the karate belt around your waist haphazardly tied in a knot at the front. and while you still looked as stunning as ever, mori could feel the confusion and worry well up in his chest.

he stood up from stretching out his hamstrings, his long body gracefully walking over to you to greet you with his usual hug. your smile was tired, and when you wrapped your arms around his thin waist, he felt you snuggle more into his hold and release a breath.

still gripping his waist, you looked up at him, your grin still exhausted but content when you propped your chin on his chest to meet his eyes.

"hey." you said, and your voice was airy and cracked.

"hi."

"how was your day?"

"good." his palms tightened on your back. "yours?"

you could barely keep your eyes open as you shrugged. "meh. it was interesting."

"yeah?"

"yeah." still, even in your tired state, you inched your face closer to his, a dazed look in your eye. "but we can talk about it later."

a disbelieving, good-natured scoff left him as a sharp exhale, your boyfriend knowing full-well that would not want to talk about it later. but he met you halfway, and your lips met in a lazy, soft kiss as he lowered his head to yours.

you had nearly put all of your weight onto him at this point, and as you sunk into his grip, he arched his back to counteract the force. his hands glided from your waist to your cheeks as he tilted his head, smirking slightly at the warm hum that left your throat.

pulling away, he kept his forehead on yours as he held you. a breathy left glazed over his face when you separated from him, and he opened his eyes to see a light curve on your plump lips.

"thanks, takashi. i needed that."

that brought all of his worries rushing back.

"(y/n)..." and you opened your eyes at the way he said your name. since mori wasn't the most vocal man you've been with, you learned to pick up on his tonal cues.

your name could be spoken in many ways. a gentle breeze as he tells you that he loves you, a deep inhale as you, yet again, prove your the clumsiest human alive, or maybe a groan in the late, late hours of the night.

this one was a mild warning, forming at the front of his mouth as he stares at you, deep brown eyes boring into yours with earnest.

"what?" you didn't want him to ask. but, he was kind and loving and really fucking stubborn. so, of course he was.

"what's wrong?"

a whine bubbled to the surface of your soft pallet as you dropped your face into the crook of his neck, even if you had to stand on your tip-toes to do so. abandoning your hold on his waist, you preferred to bring your arms up and around his shoulders, locking them around the back of his neck.

"i don't want to talk about it."

"what happened?"

"nothing, really. i promise."

"doesn't feel like nothing. here," gently, you felt a pressure on your hips as mori pushes you out of his hold, instead moving to grab your hand as he leads you to a traditionally decorated wall of the dojo.

letting go, the stoic leans his back against the wall before sliding down, tucking his lanky form into a sitting position before inviting you to do the same. "sit with me."

and he looked so sweet, his gaze hardened on the surface but filled with emotion and weight within it's depths. so how could you say no?

plus, he really wouldn't stop until you told him.

taking a spot next to him, you let your head roll onto the back of the wall before resting it on his shoulder. and the spot was so comfortable, so familiar, you wanted to fall asleep right there.

mori was stubborn, yes, but he was also patient. he waited like a boulder against the tide as you gathered your thoughts, loyal and permanent and determined to help you through whatever was plaguing you.

in your thoughtful silence, he imagined the stress you had been baring when you were assigned that presentation in class. even if you were energetic and outspoken, he knew public speaking terrified you. the pure panic that had erupted in your irises when you told him about the ten-minute powerpoint you had to put together in three days told him everything he needed to know about how your weekend was going to go.

that was two days ago, and he had suggested this impromptu sparring match to give you a little bit of a break. physical activity always cleared his head when he was stretched, and he figured if he could remind you how strong you were, then you could convince yourself that this would be a piece of cake.

but the bags under your eyes and the unanswered calls from him on your cell-phone made him think that this had been harder on you than he had originally expected.

a small snore broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the source.

your eyes were peacefully closed, and your lips were parted as deep, calm breaths washed in and out of your chest. he relaxed slightly into the wall, and smiled as you cuddled closer to him in his small movement.

kissing the top of your head, he rested his cheekbone upon your hair as he rested his eyes as well.

you two would talk later. it wasn't physical activity you needed, or even a helping hand if you had let him.

all you needed, really, was a little bit of rest.

.oOo.

"(n/n)-chan! (n/n)-chan!"

honey bounced up to your desk as you typed away, usa-chan banging against the side of his calves as he stopped at the end of your chair. "wanna play with me, (n/n)-chan?"

you barely spared him a glance, but your eyes met his with a quick shake of your head as you returned your urgent glance to your laptop. "not right now, honey. sorry."

the blonde's bouncing stopped, a little to awe-struck at your rejection to feel sad about it. he was more confused than anything. you never said no to him.

a deep, apparent wrinkle appeared between his brows as the boy-lolita tugged on your sleeve, causing your fingers to slip off the keyboard slightly as you typed. "please?"

"what the-?" your hand having slipped, it gently brushes the cup of tea near your working space, and you gasp before rolling your eyes. "no, honey. i told you, i can't. go play with usa-chan, okay?" you quickly pulled your sleeve out of his grasp and got back to your work, leaving him deflated at your side.

this time he was pouting, and the wrinkle on his forehead turned from confused to determined as he walked around to the opposite side of the table to crawl into the chair across from you.

"what are you workin' on?"

this time your eyes flicked up to him for a longer moment. you wondered why he couldn't leave you alone, but you guessed it was better that he was sitting over there rather than pulling at your uniform and keeping you from your work. "the club's website."

he gasped as he swung his legs on the chair, too short to reach the ground from this height. "ooh, are you making it pretty?"

a sigh came from deep within you as your eyes squinted, zooming in on something on the other side of your screen. "you could say that."

"what are you doing to it?"

you shrugged, still focused on your work. "formatting, graphic designing, boring tech stuff."

"cool!" honey excitedly places his palms on the table, seeing if he sat up straighter, he could get a better view. "how do you know how to do all that?"

you suspiciously scanned him over as he edged closer, pulling your computer forward on the table. "lots of practice."

a high-pitched hum exudes from the third-year as he tilts his head, almost fully on the table now, but something has caught your eye, and your back to your furious typing, not noticing how close he's gotten.

his voice sounds distant in your focus. "couldn't you take a break? for cake? a cake break?" he giggles, but his smile falters when you don't hear his joke.

"haven't taken a break in two days, honey. not gonna start now." your voice is low and inattentive, trailing off as you scroll through the columns and columns of pictures and texts.

still crawling towards you, his brown eyes widen slightly. "two days?" he gasps, and begins to count on his fingers. "that's uhhh..." honey counts his fingers under his breath for a moment before he brightens with an answer. "forty eight hours worth of work! did you even sleep?"

"nope. no sleep. kyoya needs this done by tonight."

"what?!" at that, honey stands to his full height, his small but strudy weight easily supported by the desk underneath him. you jerk back as he points a finger in your face, his voice still young but firm as he speaks down to you. "you need to take a nap right now!"

"honey!" the blonde has your full attention now. "get down!"

"nope!" his pink lips pop the 'p' noise as he shakes his head defiantly. "not until you agree to sleep! kyo-chan can wait."

your hands come up in an exasperated motion and you stand up, pushing your chair out from under you. "honey, this table is not stable. you're gonna fall if you don't get down!"

"will you take a break?"

"i can't!"

"well, then i'm not coming down." folding his arms across his chest, he puffs it out, a proud look on his face.

his confident aura melts, however, when the table shifts with his dramatic movement.

you suck in a breath as honey throws his arms out to balance himself, barely keeping the table at bay as he wiggles side to side.

"okay! okay, i'll take a ten-minute nap! just, please sweetheart, get down from there."

even in the midst of chaos of his own making, honey still finds the. motivation to negotiate. "twenty minutes!"

"fine!" you round the table and extend your arms, and he leaps into them as you pick him up. your heart rate slows as you hold him while the table falls with the loss of his added weight, your tea and computer skidding to opposite sides of the tile.

blankly, you look at honey as he winces at the impact, and then at the dark aura that slowly begins to crowd around your frame.

"i can pay for that." he promises.

.oOo.

your knee bounces under your desk as you watch haruhi's eyes flick over your screen, the words you spent two days writing reflecting back in her dark brown eyes as she reads your work.

your hands are clasped in front of your lips, keeping you from saying anything like 'i changed my mind!' or 'okay, you can stop now', because you're pretty sure haruhi would ignore you anyway.

she had insisted on reading your short story. it was something you did in your free time, and it was something she knew you took pride in.

sometimes, if you felt courageous enough, you would submit them into newspapers, or maybe magazines and blogs if you were really going all out, this past weekend being one of those times. day in and day out, you sat at your writing desk, typing away for what felt like mere seconds as the story in your mind began to unfold onto the pages in front of you. barely any food and close to no sleep rendered a masterpiece of literature, or at least that was what haruhi had assured you she would call it if you let her proof-read it.

your natural host promised that it would take her only a few minutes to read the whole thing, and then you could be on your way to submit it to the magazine's editor. plus, it was the least you could do since you basically ignored her calls and used up all of your study-date time to edit and revise your concluding paragraph.

but finally, finally, after many torturous seconds, your girlfriend leans back. her hands wrap around the edge of your macbook to only shut the laptop halfway and push it aside, turning her full attention back to you.

very briefly, you pulls your hands away from your mouth to ask the question you've been dreading. "what do you think?"

the gentle look that haruhi always wears stays frozen for a moment, but slowly starts to melt into a soft smile as she meets your nervous gaze. "it's good, love. it's really good."

straightening, your eyes widen as you bite your lip. "really?"

her smile gets brighter as amazement floods your cheekbones. "really."

"oh my god." releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding, you throw yourself into the back of your chair. pulling your palms up and around, they rake over your face before scratching through your hair, a groan morphing into a laugh as relief sputters out of you. you feel like you need to say it again, probably louder for good measure. "oh my god! you really liked it?"

the honor student's deep laugh joins yours as watches you bask in a job well done. "why would i lie about that?"

touching down to earth, you shrug, your hands falling into your lap. "because you love me, and you would do anything to make me happy?"

she snorts, leaning forward as she is drawn into your space. "you're right. i do love you. probably just enough to never lie to you again."

a teasing smile curves your lips as you fake offended disbelief, scooting closer so that your knees slip between her own. "again?"

brunette eyebrows work upwards as haruhi mirrors your smirk, nodding as she gets even closer. "mhmm."

"and what have you lied about, haruhi dear?" her breath is mixing in with yours now, and she keeps her kiss barely out of reach, her lips grazing yours as she responds.

"about letting you leave tonight."

"wha-?" your eyebrows knit as haruhi shoots out of her chair, and before you can protest, she is straddling your hips, one of her legs on either side of you as you blush at her sudden proximity.

"haruhi!" but even if your voice sounds surprised, you hold her closer, your palms coming to rest on her thighs.

"when was the last time you slept?" she asks, suddenly serious as she cups your face in her hands.

"last night." you say, but she squints at your response.

"for how long?"

"enough." you whine, bringing your hands around her waist, encouraging her to be flush against you. "don't worry about it."

"(y/n), you look exhausted. i'm going to be worried about it."

you look at her for a moment before realizing that she isn't going to back down. shoulders slumping, you drop your head onto her shoulder, hugging her close to your body. "two hours. maybe."

a displeased noise expels from her throat, but suddenly you feel slender fingers rubbing your back, toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. "you need to sleep."

making a grunt of blind agreement, you melt into her hold, the excitement and anxiousness you felt about your story being blown away by a gust of drowsiness. the scratches on your scalp weren't helping.

"like right now." she emphasizes, and tries to wiggle out of your hold, but you were stronger. tightening your grip around her slim waist.

her shoulders shake with another endearingly low laugh as she hugs you back. "let's get to the bed, love."

you don't think you've ever slept deeper in your life.

.oOo.

starting to write again, and i used this as a little exersise to get back into it. hopefully it can tide you over! i'll see you soon :)

3K notes · View notes

ceesimz · 4 months ago

Text

hand-me-downs

a blurb set after GKTTSL and Part Two, though this makes sense without having to read them :)

Very brief warning! There's a hospital trip in here, some mentions of blood and dislocations (😵‍💫) but nothing terrible, enjoy :)

One of the greatest joys in Alexia’s newfound life as a parent was sharing her passions with her children and seeing them become almost as obsessed as she was. With Anaís, her six year old daughter, the two played and discussed football for nearly all hours of the day, seven days a week. Her relationship with her first child resembled the relationship she had with her father too, something she did not take for granted and most definitely did not tear up at quite frequently. She relished in Anaís’ appreciation for the sport, because she knew it might not last forever, no matter how much she desperately wanted it to.

Wth Oriol, he was a very affectionate, quiet, and caring young boy whose favourite thing in the whole world was being with his family, in any capacity. It was very rare for a toddler to be that way, but he had a lot of separation anxiety that meant having his family with him was the thing that brought him the most happiness. Along with dinosaurs, cars, story books and drawing, of course. The one surefire way to get him to sleep was taking him for a drive around the block, and he loved watching the world go by out the car window rather than whatever weird dancing fruits his parents played for him on their phones. He was introverted around most people, but with his loved ones and his family’s friends, he came out of his shell and it was one of the best sights in the world.

Alexia, who now only played for her beloved Barcelona after retiring from the national team, was happier than ever. Her children were growing into beautiful little humans, inside and out, and she had a woman at her side whom she adored more and more everyday, especially since you became the most incredible mother. Everyday, the now naturally brunette woke up with love bursting from her heart and a smile on her face, because there was no longer anything missing from her life. She truly had it all.

The day her daughter asked to join a proper football club instantly shot up the ranks of the best days of her life so far. She remembers the moment so clearly; laying in Anaís’ bed the night of her sixth birthday with the girl in her arms as they read a bedtime story together, a book named You Choose that you saw in a thrift shop and decided to buy for your daughter’s birthday. Alexia loved the idea of it when you showed it to her – the premise of it was to show young children that they could do absolutely anything they wanted with their life. Upon the first time of reading it, when Anaís got to the page titled ‘Is there a job you’d like to do?’ she pointed out the small drawing of a boy playing football. She pointed to it with determination, and stated that she didn’t want to be like him, but she wanted to be like her Mami. There were tears immediately present in Alexia’s eyes, to which she nodded, and before she could respond to her daughter, the little girl asked to join a club.

To nobody’s surprise, Alexia argued that she could easily get a place for Anaís in the Barça academy. But that wasn’t what you wanted, and parenting went both ways. Just because it was Alexia’s world that Anaís was entering, didn’t mean you couldn’t have a say in it either. There were a handful of frosty conversations, one in particular that featured a lot of colourful language, tears, and a night of going to bed angry at each other, but after some more talking that was handled in an adult way, you both came to a decision. And Alexia, in the end, was more than happy with it. She did a lot of grovelling, because she quickly realised it was definitely the better option. Anaís would join the local girls’ team at first, so she could get a feel for it, and in a few years’ time if she wanted to join the academy, there was a place for her there already.

Fortunately, you were able to be much more flexible with your job, which meant you could choose to work in the office or at home depending on what situation you were in. If your children were on a school break, you could work from home and still spend the day with them, even if it was with your laptop in front of you. If Alexia was away and they were missing her, you could still be there for them too. And Alexia pulled her weight too of course, it was far from one-sided; sending you to the spa whilst she took them for days out, treating you all to family holidays, she did as much as she could and more. Things had just fallen into place perfectly, and none of you would have it any other way.

That all meant you could quite easily take Anaís to training and to her games, whilst Alexia had to move heaven and earth to ensure she never missed more than one session at once. So far, there had only been one where she had missed two sessions in a row, a practice and a game in which Anaís had scored in, and the anger her daughter harboured at the fact the only other person she cared about impressing wasn’t there… well, it was enough for Alexia to never miss it again if she was in the city. Knowing her daughter was angry at her was one of the most gut-wrenching things she had ever experienced.

And that’s why, mere minutes before Anaís’ game kicked off one Saturday morning in February, you laughed with Oriol sat in your lap at the sight of Alexia running across the field, still in her training kit, to make sure she was there in time. She looked way too under-dressed in the freezing weather, that point backed up by the redness to the tip of her nose and her cheeks, but she didn’t care because she was here and that was all that mattered.

Just before she reached you, Anaís spotted her from her team huddle and waved emphatically at her number one fan, who instantly reciprocated the excitement before blowing a kiss and gesturing for her to listen. The young girl nodded, her face turning serious (and it looked just like Alexia’s game face) whilst Alexia made her way over to you and your son. In her hand was a cup of coffee, which she handed to you when she sat down.

“Hola amor, hola hijo.” Alexia kissed your cheek and then Oriol’s, quickly adjusting the woolly hat he wore before sighing and turning to the game.

“You didn’t get one for yourself?” You wondered, happily taking a sip of your drink as it helped to warm you up from the inside out. Oriol fidgeted a little, trying to move from your lap into his Mami’s. Alexia smiled down at him and transferred him over, standing him on her knees and hugging him tightly. He giggled into her ear and squeezed her back as best he could.

“No, just for you. I dropped mine in the car park.” Alexia huffed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Oriol sat back down on her lap, his beady hazel eyes looking around desperately for his big sister.

“Ahí!” Oriol pointed at her with a grin, to which you and Alexia both smiled at.

“Sí, Oriol, well done.” You kissed his forehead and he preened under the attention. You turned to Alexia then, offering your cup to her. “Have it, Ale. It will help warm you up.”

“I’m not col-”

“Yes you are. You’re shivering already, just take the drink. I have a blanket for Oreo here too if you need it.” You pushed the drink into her hands, which she instantly wrapped around the small cup, relieved to feel some heat back into her fingers, but shook her head at the blanket. She didn’t exactly feel like being spotted in public with a dinosaur covered blanket around her shoulders.

“I got it for you though.” She frowned, only for you to roll your eyes dramatically and kiss it away quickly. You raised an eyebrow at her, which she knew meant don’t argue back anymore. She couldn’t really fight that one, it was her favourite coffee after all.

The whistle blew then as the game kicked off. Alexia shouted some words of encouragement for Anaís and her teammates, but you had to stifle your laughter at the disapproving look on Oriol’s face at the noise. She grimaced at his unimpressed face and ducked down to kiss his cheek, whilst you smiled and shuffled closer to your wife and rested your head on her shoulder.

It turned out to be a pretty fierce game, considering it only featured children no older than eight years old, but Alexia half expected it. The opposing team was all boys, and even despite the progress that had been made in society’s view on football with all genders, some people still had a sour taste in their mouth at the thought of girls playing a 'man's sport'. That was evident in some of the calls from the parents of the other team, as well as how rough they played too.

You were sat there, wracked with nerves at the physicality on display in a game with such young teams, especially since Anaís wasn’t quite the tallest yet and was only six. Some of the boys nearly towered over her, at least a head or two taller, and whoever organised the match-up was most certainly on Alexia’s hitlist. The brunette was tense the whole game, hardly staying in her seat for longer than a few minutes at once. Oriol had moved back to your lap not long after the game kicked off, understandably. There were multiple points where you could hardly bring yourself to watch, and it felt like a matter of time before someone got injured.

Anaís played as a winger, she was very quick and like all kids her age, loved nothing more than scoring goals. That to them was much more important than any other aspect of football, and even though Alexia had tried explaining to her that it wasn’t the only key thing, you had to remind the captain that she was just a child after all. It would be some years before Anaís fully grasped the whole idea of the sport, so for now, it was all about scoring and nothing else. Fortunately for her, she was very good at it.

In the other team’s opinion, she was too good, because by half time, Anaís had scored one goal and assisted another to make it 2-0. Alexia was prouder than ever, as always, and she boasted and beamed to you throughout the short break about all the brilliant plays Anaís had made.

However, it seemed that the boys’ team weren’t happy at all. More specifically, their parents and coaches weren’t happy. If the first half was rough, the second half was bordering on dangerous. And for a reason you nor Alexia will ever understand, Anaís was the target of it all.

Her team got another goal, increasing the score to 3-0, and it was then that the other team finally lost it.

With the ball at her feet as she dribbled with outstanding control, Anaís ran as fast as she could down the left side of the pitch, past where you were sat watching. Her attack was cut short when one of the boys from the other team went in with a two-foot tackle, taking her to the ground instantly.

Your heart dropped at the sight as you froze in place, consumed with worry for your daughter. Alexia was on her feet and going over almost as soon as it happened, but Anaís was already back up and shouting at the boy who tackled her. That sight was a little relieving; she didn’t seem physically hurt after the tackle, just angry. Alexia went to the referee immediately, who stood between Anaís and the boy, and to no one’s shock, the brunette started arguing with the older man. You stayed off to the side, keeping Oriol calm in your arms who was a little upset by what had happened, whilst talking with Anaís’ team coach.

It was only when Alexia ended her rant at the referee that she noticed the quiver to her daughter’s lip. And the way she discreetly cradled her elbow close to her. The second Alexia caught wind that Anaís might be hurt, all the anger dissolved immediately as she crouched down in front of the six year old. Now that she had a good look at her, she saw the pain in her eyes and the blood seeping through her kit sock.

“Anaís, what hurts? Tell me, princesa, I need you to tell me.” Alexia said desperately, mentally kicking herself for not checking in sooner.

“My shoulder. And my ankle.” Anaís mumbled, her eyes filling with tears but doing her best to fight back all the overwhelming emotions she felt in that moment.

“Okay, okay. Will you let me carry you to Mama? Let's check you out, hm?” Alexia waited for the little girl to nod, which she did, before scooping her up into her arms whilst being mindful of her shoulder. She jogged carefully off the pitch towards you, her eyes conveying to you the concern she felt in just one glance. “Amor, she's in pain. She got hurt.”

“Sit her down.” You followed the pair of them to where you and Alexia were sitting earlier, watching with worry as tears rolled down Anaís' cheeks. Alexia crouched on the floor in front of her whilst you sat beside her, and that's when you spotted the blood soaking her sock. “Anaís, can we take your boot off?”

She nodded rather robotically, staying completely silent as she held her left arm close to her body still. The tears were falling, but she still made no noise. Her eyes seemed distant too, and all these were signs pointing towards her being in shock.

You kept your eye on her face closely as Alexia gently took off her boot as well as her sock, only to find quite a gash on the inside of her leg above her ankle. It was bleeding quite a bit and would most likely need stitches, meaning a trip to hospital. Alexia nudged you to urge you to look at it quickly, before the footballer bunched up Anaís’ sock and pressed it against the wound to try and suppress the bleeding.

“That boy was wearing metal studs. Increíble!” Alexia scoffed and shook her head. Then she took a deep breath to force down her anger, and turned back to her daughter. “Anaís? What about your shoulder?”

The brunette girl didn’t reply, like she hadn’t heard what Alexia said. That caught your attention in an instant.

“Ale, I think she’s in shock.” You told her, voice dripping with concern.

Alexia recognised your anxiety and knew she had to take charge of this situation. She needed to be strong for her family – when all was hopefully settled later, she could off-load her stresses then. For now, all three of her loved ones needed her to be a steady figure in all this worry.

“She’s okay, don’t worry.” She quickly squeezed your knee in comfort, before the same hand cupped Anaís’ cheek to try and bring her back to earth. “Hey chiqui, can you hear me? I need you to talk to me for a moment so we can make you feel better. Please.”

At her mother’s words, Anaís blinked slowly and met Alexia’s worried stare. She nodded twice, a few cries leaving her that she couldn’t quite hold back. Her mind was in overdrive, feeling totally panicked and scared. There was a lot of pain in her shoulder, she felt it pop after falling and again when she pushed herself off of the floor, and it wasn’t until about a minute after her fall that it really started hurting. And when the pain arrived, it arrived hard. She hadn’t felt anything like it, and it seemed like it was only getting stronger.

“Hurts, Mami. So bad.” She broke out into full-blown sobs then, which only caused her shoulder to throb more in absolute agony. Never, in her nearly seven years of life, had you or Alexia heard her cry so extremely. There were tears of your own brewing at the sight and sound, and Oriol was getting more worked up at it all too.

“I will fix it, mi amor, Mami will fix it.” Alexia hastily took off her quarter zip jumper and somehow tied it carefully around Anaís in a make-shift sling. Her heart broke at the especially loud cry Anaís let out when the captain moved her arm into the right position, but she knew it was a necessary evil and that’s what she focused on in that moment to ensure her confident demeanour didn’t crumble on the spot.

“Hospital?” You asked quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat when Alexia nodded.

With the adults and other children watching on, Alexia picked Anaís up and headed off in the direction of the car park. Yourself and Oriol followed along behind with your bag on your back, glad that your wife had driven in her car that day since you and your children had walked. Though it came too late for your standards, you slipped into auto-pilot parent mode then, allowing you and Alexia to work together like a well-oiled machine so you could care for your children. It was decided that you would sit in the back with them so you could comfort them both, despite being squished in between two car seats.

Oriol calmed down quite a bit during the car ride, to your relief though not to your surprise, whilst Anaís sniffled the whole way there with tears still falling steadily. Alexia drove quickly but safely there, and though it wasn’t convenient for all four of you to go, there was no way you weren’t going to be there for your daughter, and your son definitely wouldn’t have wanted to leave you three after the chaos that had occurred.

That meant you were seated in the waiting room with Alexia to your right and Anaís curled into your chest, her legs in Alexia’s lap whilst Oriol entertained himself with the toys in the kids’ area. The cut to the six year old’s ankle had been stitched up already, only needing three, and now you were all waiting for an x-ray to her shoulder. It had been near enough confirmed that she had dislocated her shoulder, but she had somehow put it back in place herself when she got back up off the ground. Alexia turned a sickly pale colour at the sound of it, to which you knew you would tease her about some point in the future, though the main thing now was that Anaís was a lot calmer after being given some strong painkillers, thankfully.

Her head was tucked under your chin as you ran a hand soothingly up and down your back, yourself exhausted by the day’s stress, even if it had only just turned midday. Alexia had an arm around your shoulders, having pulled you in slightly to lean against her, and her index finger drew comforting circles around Anaís’ knee. The little girl soon caught on to her Mami’s actions, smiling shyly at the woman she idolised which brought a similar smile to the older woman’s face. It turned into a game then, Alexia drawing or writing words on her daughter’s skin as the younger Putellas tried to decipher what had been traced. You watched on in admiration whilst keeping an eye on Oriol, who was lost in his own imagination as he played with some of the cars they had there.

“Mama, Mami, did you see my goal today?” Anaís wondered out of the blue.

“We did, nena, it was so good. We are so proud of you for it, you played really well.” Alexia answered immediately, smiling brightly at her daughter.

“Well, that boy said girls can’t play football. But I scored, and he didn’t.” Anaís shrugged her good shoulder, and her words changed Alexia’s smile into a smug smirk.

“That’s my girl.” Alexia held her hand out for a high-five that Anaís accepted with a grin of her own. “Girls can play football. Girls are better at football than boys. Like you are.”

“I know.” Anaís hummed, making you and Alexia laugh. She definitely was her mother’s daughter.

“I thought after you retired that I would get a break from that dangerous sport.” You huffed teasingly, Alexia shaking her head at you and turning to kiss your cheek.

“That will never happen, amor. Nunca.” She said, watching as Oriol came wandering over, seemingly bored of entertaining himself. Alexia picked him up and sat him on her lap, smothering his face in kisses that ignited his adorable little giggle. You watched with love in your eyes as he tried to push his Mami’s face away, only to turn the tables and start covering her face in wet kisses. “At least you get a break from it with this príncipe, no? Because this one is going to get lost in his stories, he will write and draw and write and draw forever, one day we will lose him to a library.”

“And you wonder where your daughter gets her dramatics from.” You shook your head at her antics, but really, Alexia was doing an incredible job at distracting everyone and keeping them happy. Deep down, you were a little ashamed at how you had acted earlier, and those thoughts were eating you up inside. There wasn’t much you could do about them right now apart from ruminate on them and spiral further into the doubts.

“Mama? High five?” Oriol wondered, and at that moment, it hit you, what a special little human you were raising. His heart was small but filled to the brim with love and care, and you hoped that it was down to what he saw and experienced in his day to day life.

“Thank you, Oreo.” You replied, gently hitting his hand just to see his smile afterwards. A smile that was extraordinarily similar to your wife’s, a feature in both your children that you adored endlessly.

“Cookies?” His ears pricked up at his own nickname, which just so happened to be a result of his love for the biscuits he just asked for. Anaís had started it, something you and Alexia overheard as the two children ate lunch together at their tiny table one time, and it had stuck since then.

“Yes, I have oreos for you, tesoro.”

Anaís’ name was called after that, and you decided to go with her into the room whilst Alexia waited outside with Oriol. It was far from a nice experience; the doctor maneuvered her arm into a couple uncomfortable positions which brought the tears back, and it broke your heart to have to wait in the booth as she cried out in pain. The second you were allowed to, you went straight to her and comforted her, like you should have done when she first went down earlier.

They decided that there was fortunately no further damage to her bones or any surrounding ligaments, meaning she was free to go with instructions to rest, ice it, take some painkillers, and use the sling for around a week to help it heal. Your little family made its way home after that, driving home in comfortable silence since everyone needed to decompress after the ordeal of the day. Oriol’s eyes were drooping shut by the time you arrived home, so you cradled him in your arms as you made your way to the sofa inside, where everyone dropped down together. Some family time was much needed.

It was exactly what was needed, as Oriol quickly fell asleep on top of you as did Anaís in between you and your wife. Now that you had a moment near enough alone with Alexia, you could feel her eyes on you. At this point in your relationship, having known you for so many years now, she could read you easily. It didn’t help that she pretty much knew how your brain worked too, and though she had anxieties of her own about the day, she knew that you would be eating yourself up about it all. Even if she did think you didn’t deserve to treat yourself that way.

Luckily, this was a situation that Alexia was familiar with, in terms of football and injuries. They were unfortunately inevitable, and today was probably Anaís’ first proper introduction into that side of the tough sport. A small silver lining of the day, though it might be more of a selfish thought, was that Anaís hadn’t seemed to have lost any interest in football, which was something Alexia was worried about since her daughter’s first training session.

You avoided her stare for as long as possible, but a conversation you didn’t want was one you couldn’t avoid. Alexia’s desire for clear communication and her caring nature was one of the things you fell in love with initially, after all. No amount of stalling by closing your eyes and stroking your son’s back could get you out of this one.

“Amor?” Alexia whispered as to not disturb the two sleeping figures beside her.

“I know.” You replied a moment later, taking a few more seconds of cuddling your son before carefully moving him onto the sofa, all whilst he soundly slept. You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, Alexia not far behind after placing forehead kisses on her children.

Your back was to Alexia as she came in, trying to delay the oncoming tears, but that attempt was pointless as the second your wife hugged you from behind, they came pouring out anyway. You tried to keep them silent, for the sake of the sleeping figures not too far away. That was another futile attempt.

“It’s okay to cry, cariño. It makes me sad too.” Alexia told you, frowning when you pulled away from her and turned with a shake of your head.

“But you were there for her. You were the only one out of us two that actually realised she was hurting, I wasn’t there for her then.” You rambled through shaky breaths, one hand clutching the counter tightly as you spoke. “And we should have done something sooner! About the game, it was dangerous and stupid, it shouldn’t have hap-”

“Shh.” Alexia cut off your rant gently, her hand taking yours from its tight hold against the marble, your knuckles nearly white, as the other wiped away your tears. “Don’t get stuck in the ‘what ifs’. This is what parenthood is, we can’t keep them safe all the time, no matter how much we want to.”

“I know.” You muttered reluctantly. “Doesn’t change the fact I wasn’t there for her. I just… panicked. I can’t do that, she needs me, us. She had you but I was stuck in my mind, I wanted to help but I… I froze, Ale. And that scares me.”

“You were there. You looked after our son, you helped him not get worked up, and you were there by her side. You recognised she was in shock, something that I missed, and told me so that I could bring her out of it. You were there in the car, in the hospital. You were there for her, amor, please don’t think you weren’t.” The next point Alexia was going to make was one she wasn’t particularly proud of. “She sees me acting strong when I shouldn’t, something you have always shouted at me for, and she tried to do the same. I didn’t know how badly she was hurting either. Instead, I was arguing with the referee, like it was a game I was playing in.”

You giggled at that admission, knowing it was absolutely true. Anaís had definitely gotten that trait off of Alexia, and no matter how much you loved your wife, you’d be damned if your daughter carried that with her for the rest of her life.

“That really isn’t the best of your hand-me-downs you could have given to her.” You teased, to which she laughed and nodded.

“I know. Sorry about that.” She responded with a grimace. You were both quiet for a moment, just taking the other in after the hectic day that it had been so far, before Alexia raised her arms and gestured for you to hug her, which you did. “It’s normal for you to get scared, especially at that moment. I did too. It was the scariest thing ever, and don’t call me dramatic for saying that.”

“I won’t.” You said. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?”

“I think so, yes. There will always be injuries in football, and though I will be speaking to whoever let that game go ahead, it’s just how the sport goes. It won’t always be this bad. Look at my career, how many trophies, eh?”

You laughed into her shoulder and lightly pinched her where your hand rested on her back under her shirt. Within the short conversation, the majority of your anxieties had been laid to rest. The only thing you could do to erase the ones that remained was to curl up on the sofa with your wife and children and relax with them for the rest of the day.

“I love you, Ale. Thank you.” You stated softly, hugging her just that bit tighter as you spoke. “If it’s always going to be this scary, then at least I have you, right?”

“Always. Like I said before, at least Oriol evens out the stress a little bit, no? The worst injury he could get is probably a paper cut, so.” Alexia shrugged, smiling shortly after you laughed once more. “Now come on. Your children will always love you, no matter if you freeze or if you run off to shout at the referee, because you taught them how to love and they know to do it unconditionally. Please, do not let this one bad day make you doubt how good of a parent you are. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled shyly up at her. “I know you are upset by it too, Ale. You did an amazing job with her, really. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

“No sweat, mamacita.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, before taking her hand and leading her back to the lounge. Back to your caring, compassionate, loving children, to cuddle with them and make sure they knew they never had to experience a day like today alone.

“I hate when you call me that.”

“Well, don’t be sad and I won’t say stupid things just to see you smile.”

—

had to throw my favourite childhood book in there, 'you choose' ;) also side note if there are any typos in this either affectionately let me know or ignore pleeeeeease i have stitches in my hand and it hurts to type and i rushed this a little 🙃

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #woso imagine #woso fic #woso #woso community

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