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ateezscupid · 2 days ago

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─── FEB FILTH FEST: I Wanna Be Yours - AGE GAP ♡

SUMMARY / You started to develop a crush on your college professor, but had to distance yourself from him when it turned into more than a silly "crush."

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, DOM/SUB dynamics, ANGST in the beginning, older!san (35), younger!reader (24), age gap, cliche student x teacher trope, soft dom!san, sub!reader, unprotected sex, vanilla vanilla vanilla, public sex? (nobody sees them but they're in a library), oral (f), praise, size kink, san is basically a gentle giant

word count ✩ 3,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Y/N? You're my highest ranking student. Do you know the answer?" San's voice cut through the dense silence of the classroom, his gaze landing on you. You felt your cheeks redden as all eyes turned to you. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you realized you hadn't heard the question. Panic set in, but you took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Um," you blink and sit up straight. "I-I wasn't--I wasn't paying attention." The words tumble out, and you can feel the heat spread from your cheeks to your neck. San's gaze lingers for a moment before he nods and moves on to the next student. You sigh with relief, dropping your eyes to your notebook.

You were only in your 20s, while San was well into his 30s so close to being considered middle aged. Even though, some people consider 35 middle aged, so it honestly didn't matter to you.

Every time you would do as little as fantasize having a life with him, you knew it would never happen. Why would he even date someone that much younger than him? And, even if by some miracle he did, you were his student. It was wrong, unprofessional, and you weren't ready for any rumors to start flying. Plus, he had his career to think about, and you had your future. You had to maintain a respectful distance.

So, one random day, you decided to distance yourself from him and you went as far as to drop out of his class. You switched your major, hoping that would help ease the ache in your heart, but it didn't. San's influence lingered everywhere, in the corridors where you heard his laugh echo, in the library where you had studied together, in the cafeteria where you had shared a table, and even in the quiet solitude of your dorm room where you had dreamed of a life beyond the confines of academia.

And here you were, eating by yourself in the empty library café, surrounded by the ghosts of your past happiness. The scent of stale coffee and dusty books filled your nose, a stark contrast to the fresh scent of San's aftershave that had once made your heart flutter. You pushed the textbook away, unable to focus on the words that blurred before your eyes.

"Y/N?" San's voice called out from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen him since the day you dropped his class, and now here he was, standing in the library café, looking more handsome than ever in his tweed jacket and glasses.

"P-Professor-?" you stutter, your voice shaking slightly. You swivel in your chair, trying to compose yourself, but your heart won't cooperate.

"I've been meaning to talk to you but it feels like you're…avoiding me?" San's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation. You felt your throat tighten, unsure of what to say. The truth felt too raw, too embarrassing to admit.

"It's just…I needed to focus on my studies, Professor," you managed to say, hoping the lie wasn't too transparent. "Switching majors has been a bit overwhelming."

"Then why not stay with me?" San asked, his voice gentle but firm. "You had a knack for my class, and I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd go."

"I-It was something personal…" you murmured, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you knew you had to protect him and yourself from the mess your feelings could create. San took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

He sits across from you, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with care. You nod, trying to keep your composure, but his closeness is too much to handle. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I can't say, it's…" You stop mid-sentence, the words lodging in your throat. San's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might see the truth. But instead, he offered a small, understanding smile.

"You can tell me anything." San's hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you had to resist the urge to pull away.

"…I-It's you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush even hotter.

San's hand stilled on yours, and he looked surprised, then a soft smile spread across his face. "What do you mean, 'it's me'?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I mean… I had a crush on you," you blurted out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. The words hung in the air like a confession in a quiet church, and you waited for his reaction, bracing yourself for the worst. "Well, I thought it was a crush until it got…worse."

San's expression grew serious, his smile fading slightly. He removed his hand from yours and leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Worse?" he repeated.

"I know it's inappropriate and wrong," you rushed to explain, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't help it. I had to get away, so I switched majors. I'm sorry if I disappointed you or made things awkward."

San leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background. "Y/N, it's not awkward. It's…unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a hint of something you hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "But it's not unwelcome."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

San took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean that I've noticed the way you look at me, the way you hang on my every word. And I've felt something too." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he was sharing a secret.

The confession hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Could it be possible that he felt the same way?

"I've noticed it too, Y/N," San continued, his voice soft and measured. "But I never acted on it because I knew it would be wrong. I've always respected my students' boundaries, and I respect you more than anyone."

"San, please." You whispered his name, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I don't care if I'm your student."

He leaned back again, his gaze dropping to the table. "But I do." His voice was firm, yet tinged with sadness. "It's not just about us. There's the university policy, our careers, and-"

"I've literally fantasized about you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt the air thicken around you. San's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression softened.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and careful. "You know I care about you. You're an incredible student, and as your teacher, it's my job to support and guide you. But these feelings… They're complicated."

"Do you or do you not like me back?" You blurted out, unable to contain your emotions any longer. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for him to confirm what you hoped was true.

San's gaze remained on you, his eyes searching yours. "I do," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "But we can't let it affect our professional relationship."

"Then it won't, but please. I don't care if I have to date you in private." You looked at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for some kind of connection.

San sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's not that simple."

You sigh and nod, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I understand," you say, trying to sound firm despite the shakiness in your voice.

He reached across the table and grabbed your arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, sit." His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You sat back down, your heart racing.

You snatch your arm away and walk around the table so you were face-to-face with him, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say it," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Y-You want to stay professional so if all I need to do is stay away from you then I will-"

You were interrupted by San's hand, which he placed on your cheek and before you knew it, he was kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but filled with so much passion and longing that it stole your breath away. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The world outside the library faded into a distant memory, and for a moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours.

He pulled away for only a moment, his eyes searching your face, looking for permission to continue. You nodded, your eyes brimming with unshed tears of joy. San leaned back in, his lips meeting yours again in a kiss that spoke of a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

The kiss grew more intense, and you felt your knees tremble. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, and the reality was so much better than any fantasy. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The scent of his cologne, something you had secretly come to adore, filled your senses, and you knew you never wanted to be anywhere else.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling his hands slide down to your waist as the kiss deepened. His fingers traced the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve. San's eyes searched yours, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

"Sir," you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. "W-We're still in the library-"

"And it's empty, right? No one's around," San murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. He took another step closer, his body now pressed against yours, leaving no room for doubt or fear. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it might just burst.

He lifted you up without effort, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to a quiet, secluded corner of the library. The soft cushions of an old armchair were a welcome relief as he set you down, his hands never leaving your body. San's gaze was filled with desire, yet tinged with caution.

He started kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body before grabbing your skirt and lifting it. You felt the cold chair against your bare skin and shivered from the excitement. You didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted him.

San's hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of your panties. You gasped, your eyes snapping open. The reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower. "W-What are we doing?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled back, his gaze searching yours. "I couldn't help myself. If we do this," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "we can't take it back."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his words. Your mind raced with the consequences, but your body craved his touch. "I know," you murmured, nodding slightly. "But I don't want to take it back."

San studied your face, his eyes filled with a mix of want and hesitation. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in and claimed your mouth again, his hand moving to cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping you. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and his hand moved to caress the soft skin, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt a warm wetness spread between your legs.

You reached your hand as far as you could, tugging at his belt and the buttons of his pants. San's hand moved from your waist to your wrist, stopping you gently. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged. "Let me."

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed your skirt higher and slid your panties aside. His touch was featherlight, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he kissed and licked at your inner thighs. You whimpered, the anticipation driving you wild.

Finally, his mouth found your center, and you gasped as he took you in. San's tongue danced over your sensitive flesh, tasting and teasing you until you thought you would lose your mind. Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles white from the effort of not pushing him away.

"O-Oh my god, San-" you breathed his name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You felt your core clench around nothing, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before. His movements grew more deliberate, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

His hands caressing your thighs, his eyes remained locked on yours, watching the play of emotions across your face as he worked his magic. You squirmed, unable to hold back the moans that bubbled up from deep within your chest. The warmth of his breath and the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot had you teetering on the edge of a cliff, desperately craving release.

"Mmmh!" you gasped as San's tongue worked its way inside of you, stroking you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. Your legs tightened around him, and you threw your head back, unable to control the sounds escaping your mouth. The pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt, and you knew you were close to climaxing.

"I-I'm close," you tug at his hair, making sure to avoid his glasses. "Right there, fuck!" You didn't know how to be quiet, the pleasure was too intense. San's eyes flashed with something primal and he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver.

With a final flick of his tongue and a suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm crash over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you rode the peak. You clung to the chair, your nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure washed over you in waves. San didn't stop, instead, he kept licking and kissing until you were panting and begging for mercy.

"Please," you gasped, your voice hoarse. "I can't-"

"One more," San murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he slid a finger inside of you, curling it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. The sensation was exquisite, and you could feel yourself climbing again, your muscles tightening around his digit. He watched you, his eyes hooded and focused, as he brought you closer to the brink once more.

With a final, deep thrust of his finger, you came again, your body shaking and quivering as the orgasm ripped through you. San sat back on his haunches, his face flushed with arousal as he took in the sight of you, sprawled out on the chair, panting and glowing.

"W-Where'd you learn to do-" you pause, pointing below. "…That…"

San's eyes crinkled at the corners with a hint of amusement. "Sweetie, I'm ten years older than you." he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I've had time to learn a few things." He leaned in, kissing you gently before sitting up.

He undoes his tie with swift, practiced movements, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You feel your heart race faster, his words a sweet aphrodisiac.

"Forget what I said earlier about staying professional." he almost growled, fiddling with his belt now. "I could give you everything you need."

You nodded, feeling your own need pulsing through your veins. "But we should be quick," you managed to say, though your voice was thick with lust. "Someone could come in."

"Then you're going to have to stay quiet," San warned with a smoldering look, his eyes dark with desire. He stood up, his pants now unbuttoned, revealing his erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening.

He pushed his boxers down just enough for his cock to come out, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of him. San was well endowed, and the way his cock stood proudly before you was incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, and you reached out tentatively to touch him.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so big," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. "And so…strong."

San's hand covered yours, guiding you in a gentle stroking motion. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll be gentle."

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. He stepped closer, his cock now brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness. He moves it toward your entrance, and you grip the armrests of the chair tightly, bracing yourself.

"Ready?" San asked, his voice a low growl. You nodded, unable to speak as he pushed into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You felt a slight burn, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He was so much larger than anyone you've been with before, and it was a bit terrifying but mostly exhilarating.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. You let out a soft whimper, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The gentle gesture helped to ease the tension in your body, and you started to relax into the sensation.

"You feel amazing." San whispered against your lips, his eyes searching yours as he began to move his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he filled you completely. His movements grew stronger, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

The sound of the chair creaking under the weight of your passion filled the quiet library, the only other noise the muffled sounds of your breathing and the occasional soft whine that slipped from your mouth. San's grip on your hips tightened, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the moment.

"F-Fuck-" you try your best to stay quiet, but it's getting increasingly difficult as San's hips piston into you. The chair squeaks underneath you, and the thought of getting caught is almost too much to handle. You lean back, arching your back, giving him deeper access. San's eyes never leave yours, his strokes becoming more and more demanding as he chases his own release.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The added sensation was too much, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm began to build once more. San's eyes widened at the sight of you, lost in pleasure, and he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent.

"Fuck, I love you," you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden. San's eyes flash with something akin to surprise, and then his expression softens.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. His thrusts become more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he drives you closer to the edge. You feel your body tightening around him, and you know you're about to come again.

"I-I can't-" you whimpered, your voice strained as your second orgasm built up. "Too much-" San's eyes never left yours, his movements becoming more erratic as he felt your muscles tighten around him. You felt his cock swell inside you, and he groaned against your neck.

With one final, deep thrust, San came, his warmth filling you completely. He stilled, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps. You felt your own climax peak and crash over you, your body quivering in his arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the beating of your hearts.

San leaned in and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips. "I didn't mean to go that far. I really just…couldn't help myself."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "I didn't either."

"You're, uh, on birth control right?" San's voice was filled with concern, breaking the momentary silence.

The reality of the situation washed over you, and you nodded. "Yes, I am."

San let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth of him leave you and immediately missed the connection. He bent down and kissed you softly before helping you to stand, adjusting your clothing with gentle hands.

"You, um, really love me?" San's voice was a mix of shock and hope. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. The question was a knife to your heart, but you couldn't lie, not now.

"Yeah," you whispered, the truth finally out in the open. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't anymore."

San's eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed happily. "You're adorable." He kissed you again, a smile playing on his lips. "But we have to be careful." He pulled away, looking around the library, reminding you of the precarious situation you were in.

"Whatever, old guy." You playfully punched his arm, trying to lighten the mood. San chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

#february filth fest #ateez #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #san smut #san fluff #san ateez #san x reader #san hard thoughts #san hard hours #Spotify

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autixel · 1 day ago

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It hurt. It hurt in a way I didn't feel I could justify. This person doesn't know me. Doesn't recognize me, but they could. They could know me. Remember us. Remember our lives. Then they'd know they'd be happy with me, but they're happy now. I felt like a creep watching my soulmate and their spouse and their two young children in the outside section of the Italian restaurant.

The children were squealing in joy, wistfulness scrunched in my face. My waiter was finally here, Valentine's Day made the place nearly packed and though I could see the wear in her eyes she had a lovely smile.

"Welcome to Katherine's, my name is Brianna, I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menu," she said as she poured ice water into the glass on the table and handed me the menu, it matched the fanciness of the restaurant.

"Thanks, Brianna," I smiled back. While Brianna didn't say anything about being alone on Valentine's Day I could see her fellow wait staff weren't so kind, an occasional glance my way and visuals of whispers between workers. I wonder what their soulmates were doing. How they'd feel that their destined loves were so rude. I knew my soulmate had a family. I've seen them post on facebook about memories of meeting their spouse, children's birthdays, anniversaries, the like. But I wanted to see it in person, I really don't like how that makes me seem like a stalker.

I stared at the writing on the menu, pieces of paper protected by plastic lined in faux leather, "KATHERINE'S" stamped in gold on the front, nearly unnoticeable stitching. Maybe I should get some meatballs to start, and the snapper seems good, not too expensive. Maybe some lemon sorbet to ice the emotional wounds. This is embarrassing. I heard myself sigh. Now knowing what I want I set down the menu, turning my gaze westward. It never gets old. Katherine's is set on the top of a tall hill overlooking the highway. The sky dazzled in streaks of pink and orange that blurred into dusty blue and darker as the eye trailed East. The unkempt grass swayed as the breeze picked up and slowed as it dropped. It felt good. This body likes the cold, though today is a little abnormally warm for February. This is part of the melancholy of remembering your past lives, remembering how things were. Some people get really weird about it, others get really sad, others get inspired to go for a different career. I watched a collected drop of condensation fall down the glass and absorb into the napkin acting as a coaster. I took a sip.

Brianna came back and I gave her my order and the menu back. I pulled out my phone, beginning to scroll Tumblr. The great thing about people who remember their past lives is that old media never really dies, I got really into now old Hollywood in my previous life and I can connect with other people across the world who also loved it, and new people too. I know there's a group of people out there who remember reading and hearing about Gilgamesh thousands of years ago. People have dedicated phrases and tells for their next life to pass on their belongings, there's an industry about keeping things for your future life. Though that isn't always guaranteed assuming that you realize yourself in your current lifetime and you have the ability to travel to where you died. I get an ad for forced past remembering pills. What great timing. I get a post about national politics. I continue scrolling, reblogging, waiting for the food.

And randomly I get a feeling of being watched, I glance up and—there's my soulmate, staring directly at me. There's a visual hint when a person is remembering their lives. For my soulmate it's unusual flickers of light in their eyes. Oh this isn't what I wanted. I see their spouse recognizes something is wrong and meets where my soulmate is looking. Their eyes squint in confusion and rising irritation. One of the kids asks what's wrong with their parent. They're adorable. The spouse thinks over their words, lips drawing into a line. They say something in hushed tones and the kid asks, "Remembering?" The spouse replies, "Yes, I can tell you more about it at home, eat your spaghetti, gotta have food in your belly."

My soulmate blinks, confused, makes eye contact with the spouse and back to me. I avert my gaze. Oh, Brianna, where are you and can I get that to-go actually. I hear whispers at the other table. A waiter walks by, not Brianna, and the spouse alerts them and says, "Excuse me, can we get some boxes?" The waiter says, "Sure, I'll be right back," walking back the way they came. One hand held my chin the other drummed fingers on the table. I'm so minding my business I'm so not here. I hear more from my soulmate's table,

"I'm not having an argument in public."

"I think I should talk to them."

"Oh, that random stranger is the love of your life? Past, present, future?"

In an attempt to watch I accidentally meet my soulmate's eyes, but I darted away again. Please, soulmate, do not interpret as an attempt at being coy and wanting to be chased.

"Hon', please."

"We'll talk later. Let's get these little guys home first."

My soulmate sighed in exasperation.

The waiter came back with boxes, leaving them with, "Have a good evening," the spouse said thanks. I could tell they were keen on getting out of Katherine's. The kiddos' food got quickly boxed up, the adults followed. The family started heading out, my soulmate at the back, their spouse in the front holding the hand of the younger kid. My soulmate stopped at my table, looking uncomfortable. They bit their bottom lip looking between me and their family.

"Go with them."

"Can I at least get your number?"

They quickly unlocked their phone, face recognition, then pulled up a new contact. Their face was tense, creasing in the brows, highlighting of their crow's feet, a slight pursing of their lips. I could feel my eyes soften. I already knew I couldn't say no to them.

"I don't think that's a good idea, but okay."

I took the phone, entering this body's name and phone number. I handed it back and my soulmate typed something. I got a text message from an unknown number.

"That's me..." They said as they raised a hand to the back of their neck. This body had a lopsided grin. It reminded me of the amount of times I've seen them like this over the lives.

"I think you should go."

"You're right, hey, uhm, I'll call you later?"

"Sure."

My soulmate waves goodbye and I smiled in turn. The sun was red orange over the horizon. The clouds shifting over into purple.

Brianna came back with the food.

"I'm so sorry about the wait."

"You're fine, you're fine. Everything's okay."

"Call me over if you need anything."

"Thanks, Brianna."

She smiled and went over to a different table.

At least the food was good.

You and your soulmate are stuck in a cycle of reincarnation, but you managed to find each other every single time. In this life, you finally managed to track them down… only to learn they started a happy family with someone else.

#autixel's writings

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callsigns-haze · 1 day ago

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-ˋˏ The week it all went south ˎˊ-

Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

Azriel has the perfect life. You as his wife. Kaia as his daughter. But him and the boys are stupid enough to challenge you for a week and then his perfect life might simply...disappear

Warning: FUTURE ANGST, mentions of past lovers, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing.

Word count: 13937

Rhysand's office was dimly lit, the soft glow of faelight casting long shadows over the dark mahogany furniture. The air smelled faintly of leather, ink, and the rich tang of spiced wine. Cassian leaned back in one of the armchairs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, while Azriel sat with his customary stillness, though his eyes betrayed the warmth of someone entirely at ease. Rhysand, perched on the edge of his desk, held his own drink with the casual elegance he always seemed to exude.

“Remind me again,” Cassian said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Why do we still have to deal with these Illyrian males who think they’re gods’ gift to training camps? I’ve been dealing with one this week who couldn’t even hold his sword properly, and he still had the audacity to call himself a warrior.”

Rhysand snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Because if we don’t, they’ll tear themselves apart—or worse, decide to revolt again. You’re good at handling them, Cass.”

“Good at handling them?” Cassian scoffed. “I’ve got three sons at home who listen better than most of those arrogant bastards.”

Rhysand smirked. “That says more about Nesta than it does you.”

Azriel chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine. “How are your boys doing, anyway?”

Cassian’s face softened instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Torran’s growing too fast. He’s already outpacing me in drills. Emrys is still too young to care about swords, which drives Torran insane. And little Calen—” He shook his head, laughing. “That one’s going to be the death of me. He’s climbing everything he sees. Nesta caught him on the roof last week.”

Azriel raised a brow. “The roof?”

Cassian nodded grimly. “Nesta nearly burned the house down when she found him. I don’t know whether to be proud or terrified. Probably both.”

Rhysand laughed, tipping his glass toward Cassian. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“And you don’t?” Cassian shot back. “How’s Nyx? Still giving you and Feyre a run for your money?”

Rhysand sighed dramatically. “Thirteen is...a challenge. He’s inherited Feyre’s stubbornness and my sharp tongue, which is a dangerous combination.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds like poetic justice to me.”

Rhysand ignored him. “He’s growing into his powers faster than we expected. Sometimes I don’t know whether to be proud or worried. Feyre’s convinced he’s going to be stronger than both of us one day.”

“He probably will be,” Azriel said simply, his voice laced with quiet confidence.

Rhysand tilted his head, considering. “Maybe. But I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Azriel shook his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Nyx will outpace you before you know it.”

Cassian grinned. “And then you’ll know what it feels like when your kids don’t need you to teach them anymore.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He turned to Azriel. “Speaking of kids, how’s Kaia?”

Azriel’s expression softened instantly, the shadows around him retreating. “She’s...perfect. Curious about everything. She spent half an hour today chasing after her own shadow, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t go away.” His voice was tinged with amusement and an unmistakable love.

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And YN? Is she keeping up with her?”

Azriel gave a quiet laugh. “Barely. Kaia’s too quick for her own good. YN says she’s going to start making me run after her when she gets tired.”

Rhysand smirked. “You always were the fastest, Az. Seems fitting.”

Azriel shot him a look, though it lacked any real venom. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re chasing Nyx through Velaris at two in the morning.”

Cassian laughed, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To fatherhood. The most exhausting battle we’ve ever fought.”

The other two raised their glasses, the clink of crystal filling the room.

Rhysand’s gaze flicked between them, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Cassian nodded, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, we have.”

The door to Rhysand's office creaked open just enough for a small, tousled head to peek inside. Azriel’s sharp gaze flicked to the doorway, his eyes softening as Kaia’s little feet padded across the stone floor. Without hesitation, she ran straight to him, her tiny wings fluttering in a haphazard attempt to take off.

“Dada!” she squealed, her voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. She launched herself into his arms with a giggle, and Azriel caught her effortlessly, pulling her close.

“Kaia,” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss to her messy hair. “What are you doing up, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head, big amber eyes that mirrored his looking up at him with feigned innocence. “I no want bath,” she said, wrinkling her little nose in distaste. Her chubby arms wrapped around him tighter. “Mama say I need bath... but I hide!”

Azriel’s lips twitched at the sight of her determination. “You hid from your mama to come find me?”

Kaia nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with every movement. “Ye! I run real fast! Hide so no bath! No bath, Dada!” Her words were still jumbled with her toddler speech, but the meaning was clear enough.

Cassian leaned forward in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “What about me, huh? I don’t get a hug?”

Kaia squinted at him, brows furrowing as if trying to understand. After a moment, she shook her head and pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You too loud!” she declared with absolute certainty, her little lips pouting. “You talk all da time. I no like.”

Cassian laughed, throwing his head back. “Too loud? I’m the fun one, Kaia. You can’t just pick favourites like that.”

But Kaia was already halfway out of his reach, shifting in Azriel’s lap as she snuggled in closer to him. Her tiny hands reached up and tugged at Rhysand’s dark hair, as if the pull of his long strands was just too tempting.

“Rhysie,” she said with a giggle, her toddler voice softening the name into something both endearing and mischievous. Rhysand chuckled, allowing her to yank on his hair without complaint.

“You’re a little troublemaker, Kaia,” Rhysand said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as she pulled harder, then instantly snuggled back into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t pull on Rhysie’s hair, sweetling,” Azriel said gently, though there was a fond smile on his face. He wrapped an arm tighter around her as she cuddled against his chest, clearly not bothered by his warning.

“No bath!” Kaia protested again, her speech barely coherent as she pouted. “Mama no get me! I run! I hide!” She giggled again, clearly proud of herself. “Mama say I need clean. I say no! I say no bath, no bath, no bath!”

Azriel shook his head, chuckling softly as he ran his fingers through her dark hair. “You’re very clever, little one.” He looked at the others, sharing a silent understanding that there was no way Kaia was going back to the bath tonight.

Cassian grinned. “Alright, no bath. But only if you tell me a secret first, Kaia.”

She leaned back in Azriel’s lap, her tiny face scrunched up in thought. “A secret?” she asked, sounding very serious for a two-year-old.

“Yes, a secret,” Cassian insisted. “Tell me something nobody else knows.”

Kaia looked around the room, her eyes narrowing as she thought harder. Then, after a long pause, she smiled brightly. “I cookies,” she whispered loudly, leaning in to make sure Cassian heard. “I no share cookie.”

Everyone laughed, even Rhysand shaking his head with a smile. “That’s a secret?” he teased.

Kaia nodded vigorously. “Big swecret!” she insisted, then looked up at Azriel with all the sweetness in the world. “Dada... no bath?”

Azriel kissed the top of her head. “No bath tonight, sweetheart. But you’ve gotta let me have a drink with the guys now, okay?”

Kaia looked at him seriously, her little brows furrowing. “I no want drink. I want you,” she said, her tone pleading.

Azriel’s heart softened. “I’m here,” he whispered. “Always.”

Kaia settled back into his arms, clearly satisfied. “Okay, Dada. You stay.”

Kaia, content and warm in Azriel’s arms, relaxed into him, her little body soft and pliable as she burrowed closer. Azriel’s wings adjusted slightly, folding around her like a protective cocoon as she curled up against his chest, her tiny hands clasping at the fabric of his tunic. Her hair—so dark and wild—spilled across his arm, and her breath came slow and steady as she began to doze off, her toddler body relaxing against the weight of his warmth.

The low murmur of conversation from the men around them filled the air, but Kaia wasn’t paying attention. Instead, her tiny fingers traced the markings on his arm absentmindedly, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She was already half asleep, the soft and steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her further.

Cassian was leaning back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, giving Azriel a teasing look. "You know, I thought Azriel was the quiet one," he said, glancing toward Rhysand with a raised brow. "But now we’ve got the next generation in here, and she’s already taking after her dad. Quiet as a shadow."

Azriel chuckled softly, a quiet sound that only made Kaia snuggle deeper into him. “She doesn’t stay quiet when she wants something,” he murmured, though his voice held the tenderness that came with his love for her.

Rhysand, ever the calm presence, took a slow sip of his drink. “She has a strong will,” he said thoughtfully. “Wonder where she got that from? You or my sister?” He shot a playful glance toward Azriel.

Azriel only gave him a quiet look of warning, his fingers running through Kaia’s soft hair as her breath deepened, little snores just beginning to escape her. He spoke in a low, affectionate tone. “She’s more than just willful. She’s clever. She knows how to get what she wants.”

Cassian grinned. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, doesn’t she?”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his wings fluttering lightly in the quiet, the weight of her trust settling over him. “She knows exactly how to work her way around me.”

“She’s two,” Cassian teased. “Wait until she’s ten, and she’ll have you wrapped up in knots.”

“I’ll be ready,” Azriel said with a soft smile, though the idea of her growing up so quickly left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He kissed her forehead gently, almost imperceptibly, as she murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.

The conversation drifted away from him as he allowed himself to enjoy this brief, peaceful moment with his daughter, the calm of the room enveloping them. But as the men continued to talk, there was a soft shuffle of footsteps, and Kaia’s small head jerked up from Azriel’s chest, her sleepy eyes blinking rapidly.

“Dada,” she whispered, her little voice thick with sleep. “Mama?”

Azriel stroked her hair gently, reassuring her. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

But Kaia’s curiosity had already taken over. She sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes as she looked around the room. "Mama? I hide!” she said with a gleam of mischief in her voice, suddenly more awake and alert. Her eyes darted across the room as if calculating the best place to hide from YN. Without warning, she hopped off Azriel’s lap, her tiny wings fluttering in excitement. She scampered to the couch and dove under the blanket with an exaggerated puff of air, pulling it over her head, only her little feet sticking out.

Azriel watched her with a fond, amused expression, shaking his head slightly. “Kaia, you can’t keep hiding from Mama,” he warned softly, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

Kaia’s voice came from under the blanket, muffled but still clear. “Mama no find me,” she said with utter confidence. Her tiny legs wiggled, her feet kicking the blanket in her excitement. “I hide, Dada! I good at hide!”

Cassian and Rhysand both chuckled at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes twinkled as he looked over at Azriel. “Looks like she’s more like you than we thought. You used to hide from your problems too.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look. “I don’t hide.”

“Of course not,” Rhysand said smoothly, though there was an unmistakable smirk on his face. “Kaia certainly doesn’t.”

Kaia, apparently content with her decision to hide, made little giggling noises from beneath the blanket. Azriel’s wings unfolded slightly in amusement, and he reached for her, gently pulling back the blanket to find her face all scrunched up in concentration as she tried to remain hidden.

“I see you, little one,” Azriel said softly, and Kaia’s giggles broke free as she peeked out, eyes wide with a mix of delight and mischief.

“I’m good hide, Dada!” she announced, her tiny hands still clutching at the blanket.

Azriel smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face as she crawled back onto his lap, snuggling against him once more. “You are, sweetheart. But no more hiding from Mama. She’s coming.”

Kaia frowned for a moment, but the promise of staying with her daddy seemed to cheer her up. “No Mama. No bath,” she muttered, her speech still jumbled but full of intent. “Hide more!”

Azriel chuckled, knowing full well that this little one would give her mama a run for her money.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway before the door to Rhysand’s office creaked open, and you stepped inside. Immediately, your eyes flicked to the sight before you—Azriel, seated comfortably in one of the chairs, his dark wings enveloping his daughter, who was curled up in his lap, asleep but still warm from the lingering glow of her playful energy.

You smirked as you took in the scene. Cassian and Rhysand were deep in conversation, but both looked up at you the moment you entered, the tension of their talks easing into an unspoken amusement. They’d seen that look before—the one where you were hunting for something (or someone) you didn’t want to admit was far too skilled at evading capture.

“I’m searching for a runaway,” you said with a teasing lilt to your voice, crossing your arms. Your gaze fell onto the small figure tucked against Azriel’s chest, her hair a wild halo of dark curls, her little body completely at ease despite her escape attempt.

Azriel’s head tilted slightly as he met your eyes, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You mean Kaia, don’t you?” Rhysand’s voice was dry, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “I’m sure she’s hiding from you because she knows exactly what’s coming.”

“I’m sure she’s just lost in thought,” Azriel replied, though the way he shifted Kaia gently in his arms suggested he was trying to keep her in her comfortable cocoon. “She was really adamant about not needing a bath.”

“Oh, she’s very good at that,” you said, walking further into the room. “I thought I’d check in with you guys, but it looks like you’ve got her well in hand.” You looked pointedly at Azriel, whose face had softened as he ran his fingers through Kaia’s hair.

Kaia shifted in Azriel’s lap, her eyes half-lidded, but she was still awake, and the moment she heard your voice, her little face scrunched up in exaggerated suspicion. She slowly lifted her head, her tiny wings fluttering behind her as she tried to blink the sleep from her eyes.

“No Mama!” Kaia protested, throwing her arms over her face as if it would somehow shield her from the inevitable. “Hide! I hide, no bath!”

You sighed dramatically, taking a step closer, feigning exasperation. “Kaia, sweetheart, don’t you want to be all nice and clean for the night? I was just coming to check on my two favourite people, but I see that one of them is being a little troublemaker.” You crouched down in front of her, smiling at her defiant little pout.

She peeked from beneath her arms, and her lip trembled, her voice barely a whisper. “No Mama. No bath. I hide. I hide from Mama, Dada.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his voice low and soothing. “She’s good at hiding, love. I’ve tried to tell her it’s not going to work.”

“Oh, I know it won’t work,” you said, reaching out to pull the blanket off her tiny form. “But it’s adorable to watch her try.”

Kaia giggled as the blanket was pulled away, exposing her to you. Her small hands shot up to her face again in an attempt to shield herself. “No, no, no bath! I hide. I good hide!”

“You are a very good hider, sweetheart.” You reached down to scoop her up gently, ignoring her protest. She squirmed a little but melted against you when she realized there was no escape. “But no more running. It’s time for a bath.”

Kaia, however, wasn’t about to give up so easily. “I no need bath,” she declared with a loud puff of air. “I already clean! I clean!”

Rhysand’s laugh echoed through the room. “I believe that’s a no, then.”

You shot him a quick, amused glance. “A very determined no, at that. I think she might be more stubborn than any of us.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he gazed at Kaia, still nestled against you. “She gets that from her mother.”

“She might also get it from her father,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted Kaia onto your hip.

“Not that much,” Azriel protested, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he didn’t mind at all.

“I’ll let you both deal with her when she’s three,” you said, already walking toward the door with Kaia clinging to you like a tiny koala. “For now, she’s still in the stage where she’s cute enough to get away with anything.”

Cassian laughed. “Good luck with that, YN. I’ve had a lot of practice with troublemakers, but I’m pretty sure Kaia’s going to be next-level.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’m well aware, Cassian.”

Azriel’s eyes followed you as you walked out the door, Kaia’s arms wrapped tightly around you. “You sure you want to take her?”

You glanced back at him and smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “She’s your daughter, Azriel. I think you’ve had your turn.”

Kaia let out a loud whine, her small hand tugging at your collar. “No bath!” she repeated, her toddler words still as adorably clear as ever. “I no bath, Mama!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” you said, kissing her forehead.

As you carried Kaia toward the door, her little protests still filling the air, you paused and turned back to the three men lounging in the office. Cassian was leaning so far back in his chair it looked like he might tip over, Rhysand was swirling his drink with all the leisure of a man who had nothing but time, and Azriel—well, Azriel was looking at you with that calm, unruffled expression, even though you knew he was just as guilty as the other two.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You know, I have a theory,” you said, bouncing Kaia slightly as she rested her head against your shoulder.

“A theory, hmm?” Rhysand drawled, one brow arching as he took another slow sip of his drink. “Do enlighten us.”

You smirked. “It’s funny how every time Feyre, Nesta, and I are up to our necks with the kids—” you glanced at Azriel meaningfully, “—all of you somehow end up here. Drinking. Relaxing. Laughing like life is oh-so-easy.”

Cassian snorted, his grin widening as he set his drink down. “We’re strategizing,” he said, far too defensively to be believable. “Important things. Illyrian training. You know, for the next generation.”

“Right,” you said, shifting Kaia to your other hip. “Strategizing. Because obviously, the best way to deal with a horde of screaming children is to sit in Rhysand’s office with a glass of whiskey.”

“I think it’s working,” Rhysand chimed in smoothly, giving you a wink. “Look how relaxed we are.”

Kaia, as if on cue, perked up just enough to lift her head and point a chubby finger at Rhysand. “Rhysie no help!” she declared, her toddler voice loud and certain.

You grinned. “Exactly, Kaia. Rhysie no help.” You turned toward the door, raising your voice just enough to carry down the hallway. “Nesta! You’ve got to come see this. The boys are in here strategizing while we’re busy running after all the kids.”

A moment later, you heard footsteps approaching, quick and purposeful, and then Nesta appeared in the doorway, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room. “Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Drinking and lounging while we’re doing all the work?”

Cassian, who had the audacity to look pleased to see her, leaned back even further in his chair. “We’re taking a much-needed break, sweetheart. You know how exhausting strategizing can be.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Strategizing, huh? And what exactly have you been strategizing, Cassian?”

“Training,” Cassian replied smoothly. “The future. Our sons.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Of course. You’re strategizing, and we’re dealing with three boys who’ve decided that walls are optional for flying practice.”

Cassian sat up straighter, a smirk playing at his lips. “That sounds like good training to me.”

Nesta shot him a look that could have frozen the Sidra. “It’s destruction, Cassian.”

Kaia, catching onto the tension, buried her face against your shoulder, peeking out just enough to whisper, “Cassy in trouble?”

“Yes, Kaia,” you said, grinning. “Cassy’s in big trouble.”

Azriel, who had been quietly observing the exchange with an amused smile, finally spoke up. “To be fair,” he said softly, “the boys did ask for a break.”

“Of course they did,” you said, shaking your head. “Meanwhile, Feyre and I had to chase Nyx off the roof again, and Nesta’s youngest is trying to figure out how to set a trap for the twins.”

Rhysand chuckled, raising his glass toward Nesta. “To the mothers of the Inner Circle. The true warriors among us.”

Nesta raised a brow but didn’t take the bait. “You’re lucky we haven’t strung all of you up yet.”

Cassian leaned forward, grinning as he motioned toward the empty chair next to him. “Why don’t you join us, sweetheart? You deserve a break, too.”

Nesta sighed but finally walked over, claiming the chair with a regal grace. She glanced at you as you shifted Kaia again, who had started to drift off once more. “I’m not doing this alone, YN,” she said. “Feyre deserves to see this, too.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied, smirking as you moved toward the door. “I’m going to send her in next. Let’s see how long your little strategy session lasts once the rest of us are here.”

Azriel’s quiet laugh followed you out, and you heard Cassian groan, “She’s bluffing, right?”

Rhysand’s amused voice was the last thing you heard before you turned the corner. “You know better than that, Cassian.”

You didn’t make it far before you paused, a smirk creeping across your face. “You know what? Feyre does need to see this now.” Adjusting Kaia on your hip, you turned back toward the hallway and called out, “Feyre! You might want to come take a look at this.”

The sound of footsteps echoed moments later, and Feyre appeared, her hair slightly mussed, her expression one of mild exasperation. “What is it now? Did Nyx try to jump off something again?”

“Not this time,” you said, gesturing toward the office. “But you’ll want to see what our fearless mates and brothers are up to while we’re busy chasing after their children.”

Feyre raised a brow and stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the scene—the three men lounging in comfort, glasses of whiskey in hand, all looking far too pleased with themselves.

“Well, well,” Feyre said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What do we have here? A secret meeting?”

Rhysand’s lips curved into a slow smile as he gestured to the empty seat next to him. “Join us, darling. We were just discussing the intricacies of basic Illyrian training.”

Feyre scoffed, striding further into the room. “Basic Illyrian training, hmm? Is that what you call this little boys’ club?”

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, bouncing Kaia slightly as she started to squirm. “They’re pretending they’re doing something important while we’re out there making sure their children don’t destroy Velaris.”

Nesta, still seated beside Cassian, smirked and gestured toward Feyre. “Take a seat. I’m sure they’ll explain how their ‘strategizing’ is critical to the survival of the Night Court.”

Feyre shook her head, but there was amusement in her eyes as she looked at Rhysand. “You know, Rhys, I’m starting to think we deserve a break.”

“A break?” Rhysand echoed, tilting his head. “From what, darling? Surely you’re not suggesting life with our children is anything less than a joy.”

You snorted. “Oh, it’s a joy, alright. Especially when Nyx decides to start a game of tag on the roof, or Cassian’s boys decide to see if they can break through a wall with their wings.”

“They’re learning structural integrity,” Cassian said defensively, though his grin betrayed him.

“And how exactly is that helping us?” Nesta asked, her tone sharp as she fixed him with a glare. “Do you know how many walls we’ve had to repair this month?”

Azriel stayed quiet, his hand lightly rubbing Kaia’s back as she snuggled against him, but his lips twitched in amusement.

Feyre stepped closer to Rhysand, placing her hands on the back of his chair. “You know, I think we deserve a week off. No kids. Just us. Let’s see how well you three manage without us.”

Rhysand arched a brow, his voice smooth as silk. “A week off? Are you implying we can’t handle our own children?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shifting Kaia again as she started to doze off. “Can you handle Kaia’s nightly escape attempts? Or Nyx’s tendency to challenge gravity at every opportunity?”

Nesta smirked. “What about when the twins decide they’re inventing a new game that requires smashing furniture?”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Please. We’ve handled far worse.”

“Oh, really?” Feyre asked, her tone dripping with challenge. “Then let’s make it official. One week. No help. No Feyre, no YN, no Nesta. Just the three of you and all the kids.”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave her a slow, considering smile. “And what would the three of you be doing during this week of freedom?”

“Anything we want,” you replied immediately, grinning. “No schedules. No messes to clean. No nightly tantrums.”

Nesta’s voice was firm. “And no repairing walls.”

Azriel glanced down at Kaia, his gaze softening. “You’d really leave us alone for a week?”

“Yes,” you said, though your heart warmed at the way he was glancing at your daughter. “And you’d survive. Maybe.”

Cassian grinned, leaning toward Azriel and Rhysand. “Come on, boys. How hard could it be?”

Rhysand’s gaze flicked toward Feyre, full of mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

Feyre smirked. “You’ll regret that by the end of the first day.”

You laughed, Kaia stirring slightly as you kissed the top of her head. “We’ll pack our bags tonight. Good luck, gentlemen. You’re going to need it.”

You grinned, shifting Kaia onto your hip as you leaned against the doorframe. “You know, Feyre, Nesta, and I could always go to the Day Court for the week. Helion would love to take us in. No kids, plenty of sunshine, and a lot less chaos.”

Cassian sat up straight, feigning offense. “The Day Court? You’d betray us like that?”

“Oh, it’s not betrayal,” Nesta said with a smirk, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “It’s survival. And besides, Helion has excellent taste. He knows how to treat his guests.”

Rhysand arched a brow at Feyre, his expression amused. “You’d run off to Helion? Really, darling? Aren’t I enough?”

Feyre tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Well, Helion does throw very good parties. And he doesn’t make me chase a child off the roof.”

Before Rhysand could respond, a loud, familiar voice interrupted.

“NO!”

Nyx came barreling into the room, his curls bouncing as he skidded to a stop in front of you. His eyes were wide with panic, and his wings flared slightly behind him as he planted himself firmly in your path.

“You can’t leave them in charge!” Nyx declared, pointing dramatically at his father, Cassian, and Azriel. “Not again! They’ll ruin everything!”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression equal parts amused and offended. “Excuse me, young man. What exactly are you accusing us of?”

Nyx turned on him, his hands on his hips. “The last time you were in charge, Uncle Cassian said I could ‘fly like an Illyrian,’ and then—” He flapped his arms wildly for emphasis. “And then I broke my arm!”

Cassian burst out laughing, clapping a hand on his chest. “That was a learning experience, Nyx. Every Illyrian has to learn how to fall at some point.”

“I didn’t fall!” Nyx shouted, glaring at him. “You threw me!”

“I did not throw you!” Cassian protested, though his grin was far too wide to be convincing.

Nyx crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “You threw me, and then you told Mama it was an accident. I’m still not allowed to go anywhere with you by myself!”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath about reckless behavior and bad influences. “He’s not wrong, Cassian. You did throw him.”

“I helped him fly,” Cassian corrected, raising his hands defensively.

Nyx turned to you, his expression pleading. “You can’t leave us with them! Uncle Azriel doesn’t even let me hold his knives, and Dad just makes me sit and listen to boring stories about being High Lord.”

Azriel chuckled quietly from his seat, his hand still resting protectively on Kaia’s back as she began to doze. “I’m not letting you hold my knives, Nyx. You’re thirteen, not thirty.”

Nyx huffed, his wings twitching in frustration. “I can fight! I’m strong!”

“You’re also grounded,” Feyre said firmly, cutting off whatever argument he was about to make. “And if you’re trying to talk us out of going to the Day Court, it’s not working.”

Nyx’s eyes widened as he looked between you, Feyre, and Nesta. “You’re really going to leave me with them? Mama, you can’t!”

Rhysand smirked, leaning forward to ruffle Nyx’s hair. “Don’t worry, son. We’ll take excellent care of you.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Nyx muttered darkly, stepping away and turning toward the door. “I’m telling Aunt Amren. She’ll stop you.”

Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “Amren’s the one who suggested this in the first place. She said we’ve ‘earned’ it.”

You grinned, watching as Nyx stormed off, muttering under his breath about unfair treatment and irresponsible adults. Turning back to the three men, you tilted your head. “Well, there you have it. Even your own son doesn’t trust you to handle this.”

Rhysand sighed dramatically, lifting his drink. “Clearly, I’ve raised a traitor.”

Cassian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Rhys. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Azriel didn’t say a word, but the slight twitch of his wings and the quiet laugh that escaped him said everything.

You smiled sweetly, adjusting Kaia on your hip. “Let me know how that attitude works out for you when we’re gone. We’ll be sure to send Helion your love.”

Feyre and Nesta smirked in unison as you all turned to leave, already planning the week of freedom ahead.

-----

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after all the children had finally settled into sleep. Kaia had been tucked into her bed hours ago, her tiny wings carefully draped over her blanket as she drifted off without a care in the world. The boys had stayed up later than usual, their laughter echoing through the halls until Azriel finally sent them off to their rooms with firm but gentle reminders about the chaos they’d already caused today.

Now, it was just you.

You stood in the bedroom, a soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminating the suitcase open on the bed. You were methodically folding clothes—light dresses, comfortable shoes, and a few things Feyre and Nesta had sworn were “perfect for the Day Court.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the week ahead. The idea of a break, of sunshine and relaxation with no children demanding your attention, felt like a dream.

The door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Still packing?” Azriel’s voice was soft, laced with that calm, steady warmth you adored.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was slightly tousled, his shoulders relaxed now that the day’s chaos had come to an end. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on the suitcase before meeting your eyes.

“You know,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, “I could still talk you out of this.”

You smirked, turning back to the suitcase as you folded another dress. “Oh, you could, could you?”

He came to stand beside you, his wings rustling slightly as he leaned against the bedpost. “Absolutely,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “Just say the word, and I’ll convince Feyre and Nesta that this trip isn’t necessary.”

You raised a brow, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “And how exactly would you do that? Bribery? Threats? Or are you planning to charm us into staying?”

Azriel’s lips twitched, his hazel eyes shining with amusement. “I was thinking charm, actually. It usually works on you.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you placed another item in the suitcase. “Not this time, Shadowsinger. I’m going, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

He watched you for a moment, his expression softening. “You deserve it,” he said quietly. “All of you do. But… Kaia’s going to miss you.”

You paused, your hands stilling on the edge of the suitcase. “Kaia’s going to miss me?” You looked at him, raising a skeptical brow. “She spent the entire day glued to your side, Az. If anything, she’s going to forget I exist.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he straightened. “She loves her mama. Even if she’s too stubborn to admit it sometimes.”

You smiled, your heart warming at the thought of your daughter. “She gets that from you, you know.”

He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as he studied you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your voice softer now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel’s gaze held yours, his hand dropping to rest on your waist. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the day melting away. His hand was warm against your side, grounding you in a way only he could.

“You’re really okay with this?” you asked quietly, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “Me leaving for a whole week?”

He smiled, a rare, genuine thing that made your heart flutter. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing small circles against your hip. “But I’ll survive. And so will Kaia. Somehow.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his wings folded slightly around you. “I don’t know who I should be more worried about—her or you.”

“Definitely me,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’ll try to manage without you.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “You’ll do more than manage. You’ll be amazing. You always are.”

Azriel leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was both comforting and full of promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur.

“Don’t worry about us. Just enjoy yourself, YN.”

“I will,” you promised, your heart swelling with love for the man before you.

As the silence stretched between you, Azriel’s gaze flickered to your lips, a familiar glint of mischief lighting his hazel eyes. His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you just a fraction closer.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone that always sent a shiver down your spine, “we still have some time before you leave.”

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “And what exactly are you suggesting, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s wings flared slightly, brushing against the edges of the room as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, but he didn’t close the distance. Not yet.

“I’m suggesting,” he said, his voice a soft rumble, “that maybe you should stay here and let me remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t go.”

Your breath hitched as his free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. He dipped his head, his lips barely grazing your jaw as he whispered, “Starting with how much I’ve missed having you to myself.”

“Az,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone steady even as heat pooled in your chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm as his lips trailed along the curve of your neck. “I never said I would.”

Your hands found their way to his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching under your fingers as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re not going to win, you know. I’m still going.”

His lips paused against your skin, and you felt the smirk that formed there. “Oh, I don’t need to win. I just need to make sure you remember me while you’re gone.”

Your laugh was breathless, and you tipped your head back, giving him better access as his kisses turned more insistent. “As if I could forget you.”

Azriel hummed, his wings curling slightly around you as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Good,” he murmured, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of the kind of intensity that made your knees weak.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “One more thing,” he said, his voice rough with affection.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice just as soft.

His lips curved into a smirk as his thumb brushed against your lower lip. “Make sure Helion knows you’re mine.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of warmth as you leaned into him. “I think he already knows, Az.”

“Good,” he said again, his tone playful yet possessive as he kissed you once more, this time with no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Azriel didn’t let you pull away—not that you wanted to. His lips moved against yours with that perfect blend of softness and urgency, his hands anchoring you firmly in place as though daring you to remember anything but him.

The suitcase on the bed was all but forgotten as he coaxed a sigh from you, his mouth tilting into a knowing smirk at your reaction.

“Az,” you murmured against his lips, your voice half-scolding, half-breathless.

“Hm?” he hummed, his tone utterly unrepentant as he kissed the corner of your mouth, then trailed down your jaw.

“You’re distracting me,” you managed, though your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt betrayed just how little you minded.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough in a way that made your pulse flutter. “You’ve been so focused on everyone else, shadow,”—his favorite term of endearment for you, spoken so softly it made your heart ache—“it’s time someone focused on you.”

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his words, even as his teasing lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You know,” you said, your breath hitching when his teeth grazed your skin, “if you keep this up, Feyre and Nesta are going to show up in the morning, and I’m not going to be ready.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and sinful as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t need to pack for the Day Court. You could stay here. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You arched a brow, pretending to consider it even as you traced slow circles on his chest. “And what exactly would you do to make it worth my while?”

His hazel eyes darkened, and the corners of his mouth twitched as though he were holding back a full grin. “I’d start,” he said, his voice a silken promise, “by reminding you how much I love you. And then…” His wings flared slightly, his fingers tightening on your hips as he leaned in again.

“And then?” you pressed, your voice soft, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

“And then,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours, “I’d spend the whole week making sure you never want to leave my side again.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, though it was breathless and tinged with heat. “Azriel,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands slid up to wrap around his neck, “you are completely incorrigible.”

“I’m your incorrigible husband,” he said, his lips curving as he kissed you again, slow and deep, until all thoughts of the Day Court faded into nothingness.

When you finally pulled away, your breathing uneven and your cheeks flushed, Azriel’s hands stayed firm on your waist, holding you close. His hazel eyes sparkled with satisfaction, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to regain your composure.

“And you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to brush another soft kiss to your temple.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately for me.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he stepped back just enough to give you space. “I’ll leave you to finish packing—if you insist on going, that is.”

“If I insist?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk deepened, and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Go to the Day Court. But don’t be surprised if I show up halfway through the week to bring you home.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to the suitcase on the bed. “Kaia would never forgive you if you left her for that long.”

“She might forgive me if I brought her to you,” he countered, his voice softening at the thought of your daughter.

“She’d love it,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder at him. “But I think you can handle a week without me. Besides, Helion’s already promised Feyre, Nesta, and me the royal treatment.”

Azriel’s wings twitched, a subtle flicker of something possessive crossing his face before he hid it behind a playful smile. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

“Miss me already?” you teased, folding the last of your clothes and placing them in the suitcase.

“Always,” he said simply, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter.

You paused, turning fully to face him. For a moment, you just looked at him—the man who had been your partner in everything, who had stood by your side through chaos and calm, who adored you and your daughter more than anything in the world.

Stepping closer, you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. “I love you,” you said softly, the words carrying all the weight of your feelings.

Azriel leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. “And I love you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Then, with a final lingering kiss, Azriel stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.

“I’ll check on Kaia before I head to bed,” he said, his voice low.

You nodded, your heart swelling as you watched him leave the room, his shadows trailing after him.

And as you turned back to the suitcase, you couldn’t help but smile, already counting down the days until you’d be back in his arms again.

-----

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, bathing the room in soft, golden hues. You stirred slowly, the warmth of Azriel’s arms wrapped securely around you, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, you just lay there, savoring the feeling of being tucked against him, his wings sprawled protectively around your form.

His face was relaxed in sleep, the lines of tension from the previous days gone, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he looked—vulnerable and at peace. You pressed your face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Azriel—earthy, comforting, and home.

But as much as you wanted to stay there forever, the thought of the day ahead pulled you from the warmth of his embrace. You sighed quietly, trying not to disturb him as you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. The soft rustle of the blankets seemed to stir Azriel’s senses, and you felt him shift behind you, pulling you closer as though trying to keep you there.

“Five more minutes,” he murmured against the back of your neck, his voice thick with sleep.

You chuckled softly, turning your head to plant a kiss on his jaw. “You know I have to go, right?”

Azriel groaned, his arms tightening around you. “I know,” he mumbled, but there was a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But I can’t let you leave yet.”

You laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon. Besides, Feyre and Nesta will never let us hear the end of it if we’re late.”

“Mm, they’re already too excited to get away,” he muttered, nuzzling against your neck with a final sigh of contentment. But after a moment, he released you, the warmth of his body leaving a cold spot on the bed.

Reluctantly, you slid out of bed, the cool air of the room instantly making you miss the heat of his touch. You moved to the closet, pulling out your outfit for the day, but as you dressed, you could feel Azriel’s eyes on you, his presence heavy and comforting.

Once you were dressed, you turned back to the bed. Azriel had propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with that dark, intense look he always wore when he was lost in thought.

“You’re really going to leave me?” he asked, his voice soft but with an undercurrent of affection.

You smiled, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I have to. I’ll miss you, too, though.”

He nodded, and for a moment, you stood there together, soaking in the last few moments before the day began in full force.

After a final kiss, you left the bedroom, stepping out into the hall. The house was already stirring, and as you walked toward the stairs, you heard the sound of voices below. When you reached the kitchen, you found the familiar sight of Cassian, Rhysand, and your little Kaia sitting at the table.

Kaia’s tiny feet dangled from the chair as she babbled happily, her wide, bright eyes sparkling up at Rhysand, who was teasing her with a piece of fruit. Cassian sat beside her, his boisterous laugh filling the room as he ruffled her hair. His sons were still nowhere to be seen, probably still asleep, which seemed to be a rare luxury in the chaos of their usual routine.

“Well, well,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “Look who’s in charge of the kids this morning.”

Cassian looked up, grinning ear to ear. “Someone has to keep an eye on them while you take your luxurious break.”

Rhysand glanced up from where he was sitting next to Kaia, a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re welcome. Though, I don’t know why you’re so eager to leave us. Kaia seems pretty happy here.”

Kaia giggled, reaching up to grab at Rhysand’s hair, tugging on it with all the strength her tiny hands could muster. “Rhysie!” she said, her voice lisping around the word as she giggled.

You shook your head with a small laugh. “She really is a handful, isn’t she?”

“She’s a delight,” Rhysand said, his tone dry as he pulled his hair out of her grasp. “I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to deal with her tantrums.”

Cassian threw his head back with a laugh. “I can’t wait to hear what happens when it’s Azriel's turn to watch her this week.”

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and you turned to find Feyre and Nesta walking into the kitchen, both already fully prepared for the trip.

“We’re ready to go,” Feyre announced with a grin, her bags slung over her shoulder.

“You two really can’t wait, can you?” you teased.

Nesta crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We deserve this, YN. Don’t try to ruin our excitement.”

Feyre grinned. “I’ll second that. I think it’s about time we leave the chaos behind for a bit.”

You laughed, crossing the room to grab a cup of tea before setting your gaze on Rhysand and Cassian, who were now clearly in full babysitting mode.

“If any of them come back with bruises or broken limbs, I’m blaming you three,” you said, teasing.

Cassian held up his hands in mock defence. “We’ll be just fine. I promise, Kaia’s in good hands.”

“Besides,” Rhysand added, “you’ll be back before you know it.”

As the four of you gathered your things, laughter and light-hearted banter filled the air. But in the back of your mind, you knew Azriel would be there to handle everything while you were away. You just hoped the boys wouldn’t get too out of hand.

-----

The moment the last of the girls left, a tense silence descended over the room, hanging thick in the air. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel stood there for a moment, exchanging glances as they mentally prepared themselves for what was about to unfold. They’d been through this before, but that didn’t make it any less challenging.

Azriel shifted on his feet, his wings barely brushing against the table. “Are we sure we can handle all of them?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question of doubt—more like a quiet observation.

Cassian grinned, clearly relishing the chaos. “Of course, we can. How hard can it be? It’s just kids, after all,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He shot a glance at Rhysand. “And don’t you dare try to say it’s ‘too much,’ Rhys. You’ve survived worse.”

Rhysand sighed but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “True. But we’ve never had this many all at once.”

The sound of little feet padding into the room interrupted the conversation, and soon the three boys—Torran, Emrus, and Calen—came stumbling in, their messy hair and sleep-rumpled faces betraying that they had just woken up. Their eyes were still half-lidded as they slowly blinked at the scene before them: three fully-grown men standing in a kitchen, attempting to look responsible.

“Dad?” Torran rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at Cassian. “What’s for breakfast?”

Emrus yawned loudly, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m hungry,” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes as he looked at Rhysand, trying to look as cute as possible to get out of a scolding.

Calen, who was the youngest of the three, immediately latched onto his father’s leg, hiding behind it and peering up at the three men. “Daddy,” he said quietly, a bit unsure of the situation. “Where’s Mom?”

Cassian ruffled his hair affectionately. “She’s off on a much-needed vacation, remember? It’s just us today. And don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

Azriel gave a small, half-amused smile, glancing toward Rhysand and Cassian. “This is going to be fun,” he muttered under his breath.

The sound of more footsteps followed soon after, as Nyx walked in, still looking half-asleep but clearly already aware of the shift in the atmosphere. His eyes immediately flickered from Azriel to the boys, and then he gave a soft sigh, knowing exactly what his father was about to ask him to do.

“Dad, I’m not babysitting them,” Nyx grumbled, clearly tired of the routine.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Rhysand. “You’re not. You’re the oldest; it’s your job to make sure they don’t set the house on fire.”

Rhysand snorted, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “He’s right, Nyx. Just keep an eye on them for now. You’re the only one who can make sure Cassian doesn’t let them eat their weight in pastries before noon.”

Cassian threw his hands up in mock offense. “I don’t always spoil them,” he said dramatically. “But I do know what the kids like.”

Nyx rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he was essentially outnumbered. He moved to sit at the table and begin slouching in the chair, obviously dreading the next few hours.

Just then, Kaia—Azriel’s little two-year-old—wobbled around room, her hair a wild mess of dark curls, her wide, curious eyes scanning the scene before her. She let out a cheerful giggle when she saw her dad and immediately ran toward him.

“Dada!” Kaia called, her baby voice high-pitched and full of excitement as she tried to climb onto his lap.

Azriel’s face softened as he scooped her up, settling her on his knee. “Hey, little one,” he said, his voice tender as he brushed a stray curl from her face. “What are you up to?”

“I want pannycake!” she declared loudly, bouncing on his lap as if that would make her demand more convincing.

“Of course you do,” Azriel said, half-amused and half-resigned. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Rhysand, with a resigned sigh, stepped over to the counter and grabbed the breakfast supplies. “Looks like it’s up to us to feed the masses today,” he muttered. “Anyone want to help?”

Cassian clapped his hands together, standing up with a grin. “You bet. Let’s make this an event.”

Torran, Emrus, and Calen started to gather around the counter, already too excited by the idea of food to care about their previous grumpy moods. Kaia, now securely in Azriel’s arms, pointed enthusiastically at the pancakes and asked, “Can I have bwuebewwies?”

“You can have whatever you want,” Azriel replied with a smile, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. He could already see that he was going to be wrapped around her little finger for the foreseeable future.

As the group settled into their roles, Rhysand began heating up the pan, Cassian retrieved various ingredients with unnecessary enthusiasm, and Nyx slouched in his seat, trying to act like he wasn’t already mentally preparing himself for the chaos ahead.

“Should we make this a competition?” Cassian asked, his tone light as he bounced between tasks. “See who can get the kids fed and settled fastest?”

Azriel rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re insane. But I’m in.”

Nyx groaned. “I’m too old for this.”

Cassian barely had time to react before Torran, Emrus, and Calen launched themselves at him, a unified flurry of arms, legs, and battle cries.

“Attack!” Torran shouted, his voice ringing with the authority of the eldest as he tackled Cassian around the middle.

Emrus scrambled to climb onto his father’s back, giggling uncontrollably. “We’ve got you now, Dad!”

Calen, not wanting to be left out, latched onto Cassian’s leg, his little hands gripping tightly as he added his own gleeful shout to the chaos.

Cassian staggered under the weight of all three boys, laughing as he tried to fend them off. “You think you can take me down?” he bellowed dramatically, his voice booming through the kitchen. “I’m a General! You’ll never defeat me!”

“You’re outnumbered, Dad!” Torran crowed, attempting to wrestle Cassian to the ground.

Azriel leaned casually against the counter, Kaia still perched on his hip, her little hands gripping his tunic as she watched the spectacle unfold with wide eyes. “Should we help him, sweetheart?” Azriel asked, his tone amused.

Kaia tilted her head, considering it for a moment before shaking her head firmly. “Nope. Cassy too loud,” she declared, her baby voice cutting through the noise.

Rhysand snorted from his spot near the stove, where he was flipping pancakes. “Looks like you’re on your own, Cassian.”

Cassian shot Rhysand an exaggerated glare. “Some High Lord you are, Rhys. Aren’t you supposed to lead by example?”

“I am,” Rhysand said smoothly, gesturing to the pancakes with a flourish. “I’m feeding your troops. It’s called strategy.”

As Cassian’s boys continued their assault, Nyx, who had been watching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, got up from his chair and walked over to Kaia. He crouched down so he was at her eye level, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, Kaia,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face. “You wanna get out of here before things get even crazier?”

Kaia blinked at him, her tiny hand clutching Azriel’s sleeve as she considered his offer. “We go?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Somewhere quiet,” Nyx replied, standing up and holding out his hand to her. “Trust me, this week is going to be a mess. We’ve got to stick together, okay?”

Kaia looked up at Azriel, her big dark eyes questioning. Azriel chuckled softly, setting her down on the floor. “Go on, sweetheart,” he said. “Nyx will take care of you.”

Kaia slipped her tiny hand into Nyx’s, her trust in him absolute. Nyx gave her a reassuring smile before glancing back at the adults. “Good luck,” he said dryly, his tone making it clear he didn’t envy them one bit.

With that, Nyx led Kaia out of the kitchen, leaving the three grown men to handle the chaos that was quickly escalating behind them. Rhysand sighed, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. “You know,” he said, addressing no one in particular, “this might actually kill us.”

Azriel smirked, his calm exterior never faltering. “Speak for yourself.”

Cassian, now pinned to the floor by his three sons, looked up with a mock glare. “You two are terrible friends.”

“Friends who are making breakfast,” Rhysand corrected, raising his spatula in a mock toast.

Cassian groaned, though his grin never wavered, and the sound of laughter filled the kitchen once more.

Cassian finally managed to wrestle himself free from his sons, standing up and dusting off his tunic with a grin. “You know,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, “maybe we should take this whole circus to the cabin.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, flipping the last pancake onto the growing stack. “The cabin? With all the kids?”

“Why not?” Cassian shrugged, his grin widening. “The boys have their Illyrian training this week anyway. They’ll burn off all their energy in the mountains, and we’ll have some breathing room to relax.”

Azriel, who had been silently wiping syrup off his hands after Kaia’s sticky breakfast adventure, froze. His sharp gaze snapped to Cassian, his wings shifting slightly as tension settled over him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Azriel said quietly, his voice calm but firm.

Cassian frowned. “Why not? It’ll be good for the kids, and you know the mountains are perfect for—”

“For the boys, maybe,” Azriel interrupted, his tone measured but with an edge of protectiveness. “But Kaia’s too little. She can barely lift off the ground, and the air pressure in the mountains is different. It’s hard even for fully grown Illyrians.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his violet eyes thoughtful. “It’s not just the air pressure, is it?”

Azriel glanced at him, his expression unreadable, but they all knew him too well.

“The Illyrians…” Azriel finally admitted, his voice quieter now. “They don’t take kindly to females with wings. Kaia’s just a baby. I won’t let her be exposed to that kind of... prejudice.”

Cassian straightened, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with seriousness. “Az, no one’s going to say a damn thing to Kaia. And if they do, they’ll answer to me. Or Rhys. Or, hell, even the boys. You know we won’t let anything happen to her.”

Rhysand nodded in agreement. “And as for the air pressure, we’ll adjust. We won’t push her to fly or do anything strenuous. She’s your daughter, Azriel. She has all of us to protect her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, the tension in his shoulders still visible. “It’s not just about protection,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. “I don’t want her to feel... less. Or different.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his grip firm. “She’s not less, and she’s not different. She’s Kaia, and she’s incredible. Those winged bastards at the camps don’t get a say in that. You’re her father. She’s got you—and us. That’s all she needs.”

Rhysand smiled softly, leaning forward. “She’s going to grow up knowing she’s loved and cherished. And when the time comes, if she has to face the world, she’ll do it with her head held high because she’ll know she has us behind her. Always.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing slightly at their reassurances. He glanced toward the doorway where Kaia had toddled off with Nyx. “She means everything to me,” he said softly.

“We know,” Rhysand said. “And that’s why we’ll all make sure she’s safe. You’re not doing this alone, Az.”

Before Azriel could respond, the sound of loud footsteps filled the air, followed by a cacophony of laughter. Torran, Emrus, and Calen came barreling through the room, yelling as they bolted toward the doorway.

“Nyx! Wait for us!” Torran called, his voice filled with excitement.

“We want to play too!” Emrus added, his little feet pounding against the floor.

Calen, the smallest, brought up the rear, his face lit up with pure joy. “Kaia! Come back!” he yelled, his high-pitched voice echoing as they all disappeared around the corner.

Cassian shook his head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “There they go,” he muttered.

Rhysand smirked, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. “They’re your sons, Cassian. You only have your lack of self-control to blame.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the doorway where his daughter had disappeared. Despite his concerns, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They’re going to wear Nyx out,” he said, the hint of amusement clear in his tone.

Cassian grinned. “Good. That’ll make things easier for all of us.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on Azriel. “So, what do you say, brother? The cabin for a few days? We’ll make it work—for everyone.”

Azriel hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Fine. But if anything happens to Kaia—”

“Nothing will,” Cassian interrupted, clapping him on the back. “You have my word.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a small smile. “You better keep it.”

Cassian’s grin stretched ear to ear, his hazel eyes lighting up like a child who had just been handed his favorite toy. He slapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. “The cabin! This is going to be amazing!”

Azriel raised an eyebrow at him, his expression unimpressed. “Amazing? You do realize this isn’t a vacation, right? We’re bringing five kids under thirteen with us, including my toddler.”

Cassian waved a dismissive hand, already pacing the kitchen like he was planning a military campaign. “Details, Az. Minor details. This is going to be an adventure! Fresh air, wide-open skies, and the boys can run wild while we sit back, relax, and maybe get some peace and quiet—”

“Cass,” Rhysand interrupted dryly, leaning back in his chair. “You’re describing a fantasy. Peace and quiet? With your sons in the mix? I’d say the odds are slim to none.”

Cassian pointed at him, undeterred. “First of all, my boys are angels—”

“Absolute terrors,” Azriel interjected, his tone flat.

Cassian ignored him. “—and second, they’ll be too busy with training to cause chaos. I’ll get them out there running drills first thing every morning. They’ll be so exhausted they won’t have the energy to do anything but sleep.”

“Drills?” Rhysand repeated with a smirk. “You’re taking them to the cabin, not a war camp.”

“It’s a lifestyle, Rhys,” Cassian said, puffing out his chest like he was imparting sage wisdom. “Besides, you’ll thank me when they’re passed out by sundown and we’re sitting by the fire with a drink in hand.”

Azriel crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “And what about Kaia? She’s not exactly going to be running drills, Cassian.”

Cassian’s grin softened, a rare moment of genuine warmth flashing across his face. “Kaia’s going to love it. I’ll make sure she’s safe, Az. I promise. We’ll take her flying close to the cabin where the air’s gentler, show her the river, and teach her how to throw rocks into the water. Trust me, she’s going to have the time of her life.”

Azriel’s expression softened at the mention of Kaia, though he still looked sceptical. “She’s two, Cassian. Her idea of ‘time of her life’ is eating blueberries and hiding under blankets.”

“Exactly!” Cassian said, throwing his arms wide. “And the cabin is perfect for that! We’ll build her a blanket fort by the fire. She’ll never want to leave!”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

Cassian crossed his arms, his grin turning cocky. “Of course I am. I’m going to make this the best trip ever. Just wait—you’ll be thanking me by the end of it.”

Azriel sighed, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re mad, you know that?”

Cassian clapped him on the back, his grin unwavering. “And yet, you love me for it.”

Rhysand shook his head, lifting his coffee mug in a mock toast. “Here’s to surviving whatever Cassian’s version of ‘the best trip ever’ turns out to be.”

Cassian laughed, already mentally packing for the adventure. “Oh, you’ll survive,” he said confidently. “You might even enjoy yourselves. Trust me, boys—this is going to be legendary.”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he straightened up. Cassian’s enthusiasm for the cabin trip was infectious, but the thought of Kaia being away from home in unfamiliar terrain still had him a little on edge.

“I’ll go find Kaia,” Azriel said, pushing off the counter. His shadows stirred, curling lazily around his shoulders as if they were ready to help in the search. “Nyx probably dragged her off somewhere to keep her entertained.”

Cassian smirked. “That kid’s already got more sense than you give him credit for. Kaia’s in good hands.”

Azriel shot him a look that said, That doesn’t mean I’m not checking. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen, his sharp hearing picking up faint giggles echoing down the hall.

As he walked through the house, he let his shadows fan out, whispering to him about movement and noise. They swirled back, leading him toward the sitting room. When he stepped inside, the sight before him made him pause.

Kaia was sitting on the floor, her little wings fluttering as she balanced a small pile of stuffed animals on top of Nyx’s head. Nyx, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still, looked utterly resigned, though there was a small, amused smile on his face.

“Kaia,” Azriel said, his voice soft but firm as he crossed the room.

Kaia’s head whipped around, her big dark eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Dada!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet. She stumbled slightly before running toward him, her tiny wings flapping in excitement.

Azriel caught her easily, scooping her up into his arms. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Kaia leaned back, her little face glowing with mischief. “Pwaying wif Nyxie’s hair,” she declared proudly, pointing at Nyx.

Nyx raised an eyebrow, reaching up to pluck a stuffed animal from his head. “I don’t think this is what my dad had in mind when he said to keep her busy.”

Azriel chuckled, pressing a kiss to Kaia’s temple. “Thank you for watching her, Nyx.”

“Anytime,” Nyx said, standing up and brushing off his pants. He handed Kaia one of the stuffed animals she had dropped. “But fair warning—she’s a little too good at bossing people around.”

Azriel smiled softly, adjusting Kaia on his hip as she giggled and buried her face in his neck. “She gets that from her mother,” he said with a hint of warmth in his voice.

Kaia peeked up at him, her curls bouncing as she grinned. “Dada, we go?”

“Yes, love,” Azriel said, turning toward the doorway. “We’re going to the cabin, but first, we need to pack your things. Come on, let’s get you ready.”

Nyx followed them out, shaking his head. “This is going to be a long week,” he muttered, though there was a glimmer of affection in his voice.

Azriel glanced back at him with a rare, small smile. “It always is.”

As Azriel walked toward the staircase with Kaia securely in his arms, he glanced back at Nyx, who was trailing behind with a casual slouch.

“Nyx,” Azriel said, his tone calm but carrying the unmistakable authority of someone used to giving orders.

The 13-year-old straightened slightly, his sharp eyes meeting Azriel’s. “Yeah?”

“Go pack your things,” Azriel instructed. “Clothes, whatever books or games you want to bring. Make sure you’ve got enough for the week.”

Nyx sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Do I have to? I just got her to sit still. That was hard work, you know.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look, one that made Nyx quickly rethink any further protests. “Yes, you have to. Unless you’d like to be stuck in the same outfit for the next seven days.”

Nyx groaned but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But if I have to pack, I’m bringing all my stuff. Don’t complain when I take up half the space in the cabin.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a faint smile. “Just pack what you need, Nyx. No more, no less.”

Nyx huffed, turning on his heel and heading toward his room. “You’re lucky I like Kaia and my aunt,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite in his tone.

Azriel turned his attention back to Kaia, who was fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Alright, little one,” he murmured, his voice softening as he kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get you packed up.”

Kaia wriggled slightly, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders. “I pack toys?” she asked, her words slightly garbled in her toddler speech.

Azriel nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. Let’s make sure we grab your favourite ones, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said happily, her wings fluttering as she cuddled closer.

Azriel carried Kaia into her small but cozy room, decorated in soft shades of cream and pale green. Tiny wooden shelves lined the walls, overflowing with stuffed animals, picture books, and small trinkets she’d accumulated in her two short years. Her favourite blanket, a deep blue that matched his siphons, was draped over the side of her crib-turned-toddler bed.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Azriel said, setting her down on the soft rug in the centre of the room. She plopped onto her bottom with a giggle, her tiny wings fluttering as she looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

Azriel crouched down and opened the small wooden chest at the foot of her bed, pulling out a soft travel bag embroidered with her name. “We’ll start with your clothes,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

“Cwothes!” Kaia echoed, clapping her hands.

Azriel stood and moved to her little dresser, pulling open the top drawer where her neatly folded tunics and leggings were stored. He carefully selected a week’s worth of outfits—soft, comfortable pieces that would keep her warm in the cooler mountain air.

“Do you want to help, Kaia?” he asked as he folded a tiny tunic and placed it in the bag.

Kaia jumped to her feet, wobbling slightly before toddling over to him. “I hewp!” she declared proudly, grabbing one of the leggings he’d laid out. Her little hands struggled to fold it, but she managed to mash it into a ball and shoved it into the bag.

Azriel chuckled, his shadows curling around him like an extension of his amusement. “Good job, love,” he said, smoothing out the bunched-up fabric before zipping the main compartment.

Kaia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “I so good,” she said with a self-satisfied nod.

“The best,” Azriel agreed, lifting her back onto the rug. He moved next to the shelf where her favorite toys were kept. “Alright, what toys do you want to bring?”

Kaia’s eyes lit up, and she immediately ran to the shelf, pointing at a stuffed bat nearly as big as her. “Batty!”

Azriel reached for the stuffed animal, handing it to her. “Batty, of course. Anything else?”

Kaia clutched Batty to her chest, her little face scrunched in concentration as she scanned the shelf. “An’...an’ Bunny!” she declared, pointing to a small gray rabbit.

Azriel grabbed the rabbit and added it to the bag. “Batty and Bunny. Anyone else?”

Kaia hesitated, then nodded. “Puppy!”

Azriel reached for the well-loved plush dog and handed it to her. “Alright, that’s three. I think that’s plenty, don’t you?”

Kaia pouted slightly but nodded, hugging Batty tightly.

Next, Azriel grabbed her favorite blanket from her bed. “We’ll need this,” he said softly, folding it neatly before tucking it into the bag. He also added a couple of her picture books, knowing how much she loved to have bedtime stories read to her.

Finally, he packed a small pouch with some snacks—dried fruit and crackers, her favourites—and slid it into the side pocket of the bag.

“There,” he said, zipping the bag shut. “All ready for the cabin.”

Kaia looked up at him, her big dark eyes shining. “We go now, Dada?”

Azriel smiled, scooping her up into his arms. “Not yet, love. Soon.”

Kaia rested her head against his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching the fabric of his shirt. “’Kay,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.

Azriel pressed a kiss to her curls, his heart swelling with a warmth he could never quite put into words. “Let’s go find the others,” he said, carrying her and the bag out of the room.

-----

You, Nesta, and Feyre stood in the grand room of the Day Court's estate, taking in the sweeping view of the sun-kissed landscape outside. The pale golden walls and sunlit windows were the perfect setting for a relaxing getaway, especially after weeks of chaos back at the Night Court.

As you set down your bag, you sighed with relief. “It feels so good to finally be here,” you said, dropping onto one of the plush couches and looking at the half-empty wine bottle beside you.

Feyre raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on her lips. “Already drinking at 1 PM? I guess we really are living our best lives without any kids around.”

Nesta snorted as she opened a second bottle. “I’m not complaining. I’ve earned this.”

You laughed and took a sip, leaning back against the cushions. “I swear, every moment I get without Kaia trying to climb up my legs is a treasure.”

Feyre rolled her eyes but was clearly amused. “I thought we were all in agreement. A week off. I can’t believe we actually made it.”

Nesta chuckled. “We should’ve left sooner. It’s been a mess with the kids, but at least we finally get some peace and quiet.”

As if on cue, the door to the living room swung open, and Helion strode in, his hair shining like the sun itself. He wore his usual carefree grin, his amber eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, well, well,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the three of you lounging on the couch. “The beauties have come without their beasts. Should I be worried about what you’re all getting up to without them?”

You smirked at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his teasing presence. “Helion, you’re just jealous you didn’t come with us. You know you can’t resist our charm.”

Nesta and Feyre both glanced between you and Helion, their curiosity piqued.

Feyre tilted her head. “Wait, you two know each other that well?”

Helion raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their interest. “Know each other? We go way back. You could say I’m the loss of her life,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. “She’s the one that got away.”

You rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by his dramatic flair. “Not true,” you replied with a grin. “We slept twice, centuries ago. That’s all. And one of those times was when you were trying to win a bet on whether or not you could make me laugh.”

Nesta and Feyre exchanged looks, clearly intrigued.

“Twice?” Feyre asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me there was nothing more between the two of you?”

Helion leaned against the doorframe with a knowing look, crossing one ankle over the other. “Ah, nothing more. The truth is, we slept, we laughed, and then we moved on. I’m the truth-teller, after all,” he added, smirking as if to say, don’t challenge me on this.

Nesta looked at you in disbelief. “So, you two really didn’t get together after all that?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Nope. I’m not sure even Helion can hold a candle to the other men I’ve encountered. Besides, we’re still good friends.”

Helion’s grin widened as he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “The best kind of friend, of course. The kind who knows all your secrets and still manages to make you laugh.”

Feyre laughed softly, clearly entertained by the banter. “Well, I’m glad you two had your fun. But, seriously, is there any chance you two would ever—”

“Stop right there,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to halt her curiosity. “Let’s just say we’ve both moved on. No need for more stories. My husband is way more than perfect for me.”

Helion chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I won’t embarrass you any further. But I still stand by my ‘loss of my life’ claim.”

You smirked, giving him a playful shove. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Just the way you like me,” he replied with a wink, turning to face Nesta and Feyre. “Anyway, welcome to the Day Court. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. And don’t let them fool you; they can’t resist a little sunshine every now and then.”

With that, Helion made his exit, leaving you, Feyre, and Nesta to settle into the quiet luxury of the Day Court, your laughter still echoing in the room.

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a surprised look as Helion left, their curiosity piqued by the snippets of your past that had come up in conversation. They were both clearly itching to ask more, and Feyre, ever the straightforward one, was the first to break the silence.

“You never told us about that,” she said, her voice half teasing, half incredulous. “How did we not know about you and Helion?”

You took another sip from your glass, leaning back and pretending to be nonchalant, though inwardly you were amused at their questions. You had definitely seen more than your fair share of shocked expressions over the centuries.

“You’re only in your thirties,” you said with a smirk, setting your glass down on the table beside you. “I’ve had more time to experience things than you can imagine. I’m in my five-hundreds, remember?”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but intrigued. “Still… How have we never heard any of these stories?”

“Well, the thing is,” you began, glancing between them with a knowing smile, “I’ve had more than just one adventure, if you will. Not just with Helion.”

Feyre blinked. “What do you mean? Like…”

You didn’t let her finish, taking an exaggerated breath. “I slept with Eris too. He’s a charming one, if you can get past his ego. Lucien wasn’t bad either. Good lover, actually.” You shrugged casually, enjoying the shocked expressions on their faces. “And let’s not forget Tarquin. I’ve seen my fair share of High Lords. being Rhysand's sister allows a lot of interactions with higher profiles.”

Feyre’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide in disbelief. “Tarquin? I would never have guessed!”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. We never got very far,” you added with a teasing grin. “Just a few stolen moments here and there, but you know… Tarquin’s good company when you need it.”

Nesta was almost choking on her wine, unable to keep her laughter in. “Wait, so you really weren’t lying when you said you’ve slept with half the court?”

You raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, smirking. “Wouldn’t call it half, but yes, I’ve been around. But those are just the more notable names. There are more.”

Feyre shook her head in utter disbelief. “How have we been friends for so long, and you’ve never once mentioned any of this?”

“Because, darling,” you said, swirling your wine in the glass with a playful grin, “you two have been busy with your own drama. There’s only so much time in a conversation, and quite frankly, I enjoy watching you both unravel the mystery of my past.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you, clearly intrigued but also a little annoyed by the way you were making a game out of this. “Okay, fine. But I want to know everything. Tell me about Eris.”

You leaned back, folding your arms and smirking at them both. “Well, that’s a long story. Maybe after another glass of wine?”

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, both of them clearly hooked on your tales now, and you could tell they weren’t going to let this go. They were going to need all the details, and you were more than happy to indulge them in their curiosity.

For the first time in a while, you felt truly free. No responsibilities. No expectations. Just three old friends relaxing and laughing in the comfort of the Day Court—and the promise of a few more stories to tell.

A/N: Comments and reblogs would be appreciated, let me know if you'd like to be tagged

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #az

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hyuniemyunie · 1 day ago

Text

Valentine's Day ⋆˚☆˖°

sonic characters! (some of them)

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): all romantic, except tails. silver the hedgehog x gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, long distance angst. shadow the hedgehog x gn!reader, confession, first kiss, awkward shadow. knuckles the echidna x gn!reader, mutual pining, protective knuckles. rouge the bat x gn!reader, flirty, playful, yet romantic. sonic the hedgehog x gn!reader, ride or die ahh. tails x gn!reader, platonic, found family.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Love Across Time and Space

Silver always knew time was a fragile thing. He had spent his whole life watching it shatter, crumble, and reassemble itself in ways that never felt quite right. But right now, he wasn’t thinking about time in the grand, world-ending way he usually did. He was thinking about how much time he had spent away from you.

Valentine’s Day was meaningless in a ruined future, but with you, it meant something. It meant love, warmth, and all the little moments he had once believed were lost to history. So when he finally managed to pull together enough energy to warp to your timeline, he landed on your doorstep, breathless and unsteady, hands clutching a small, carefully wrapped package.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he panted, silver quills disheveled, eyes bright with excitement.

You barely had time to react before he was hugging you, holding on like you might disappear if he let go. “I didn’t think you’d make it,” you murmured into his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles ease at your touch.

“I’d tear through time itself to see you,” he whispered, pressing the gift into your hands. Inside was a small, glowing crystal—something he had pulled from the ruins of his future, polished and shaped until it shimmered like a star. “So even when I’m not here, you have a little piece of me.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You held it close, knowing he had fought against fate itself just to be here, to bring you this. You kissed him, slow and lingering, pouring all the love he had missed into one perfect moment.

No matter what time tried to take from him, he would always, always find his way back to you.

Love in the Shadows

Shadow didn’t believe in Valentine’s Day.

It was frivolous. Commercialized. A human construct designed to make people feel lonely, or worse—forced into performative displays of affection.

And yet.

Here he was, standing at your door, holding a single, freshly picked rose. He wasn’t even sure why he had grabbed it. Maybe because Rouge told him showing up empty-handed would be “pathetic,” or maybe because he had seen the way you admired flowers, even the most insignificant ones.

You opened the door, surprised to see him. “Shadow?”

He shifted uncomfortably, gripping the stem of the rose a little too hard. “I… was in the area.” A lie. He had walked here. On purpose. “Here.” He thrust the rose toward you like it was a weapon. “For you.”

You took it carefully, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re really bad at this, huh?”

Shadow stiffened. “At what?”

“Romance.”

His ears twitched. “...Is that what this is?”

You stepped closer, looking up at him. “Why else would you be here?”

Shadow opened his mouth, then closed it, red eyes darting away. The silence stretched, but you didn’t rush him. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “I think about you too much,” he admitted, voice quiet. “It’s… distracting. But when I don’t see you, it’s worse.”

Your heart pounded. “Shadow, are you saying—”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he interrupted. “But if I don’t do this now, I’ll never do it.”

Before you could react, he kissed you—brief, uncertain, like he was afraid he had made a mistake. But when he pulled back, he saw your stunned expression, the way your fingers touched your lips, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like running away.

Fists, Fireworks, and Feelings

Knuckles had never been good with words.

He could fight off entire armies, guard the Master Emerald with unwavering dedication, and endure the crushing weight of loneliness, but the idea of telling you how he felt? Impossible.

So when he saw someone bothering you at the marketplace—some overly pushy vendor who wouldn’t take no for an answer—he didn’t think. He acted.

“Back off,” he growled, stepping between you and the merchant, towering over them with a glare that could melt steel.

The vendor stammered out an apology and scurried away. You blinked up at Knuckles, wide-eyed. “Uh. Thanks?”

Knuckles crossed his arms, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. “You shouldn’t let people push you around,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “I was handling it.”

He hesitated. “...I know.” His ears burned. “I just don’t like seeing people mess with you.”

A slow smile spread across your lips. “Knuckles, are you being protective?”

“No,” he blurted, then immediately sighed. “Maybe.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Because you like me?”

His entire body tensed. He turned away, rubbing the back of his head, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

You stepped closer. “What was that?”

“I said yes,” he grumbled. “Happy?”

Your laughter made his stomach flip. “Yeah, actually.”

And then you kissed his cheek—just a quick, playful peck—and Knuckles, the mighty guardian of Angel Island, went completely red, utterly speechless.

A Thief's Heart

Rouge loved shiny things.

She loved jewels, rare artifacts, and anything that glittered under the moonlight. But above all, she loved the things she couldn’t have.

Which was why she was currently lounging on your windowsill, one leg crossed over the other, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Miss me, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You say that like you ever give me time to miss you.”

She chuckled, gracefully dropping down from the windowsill. “I can’t help it. You’re my favorite heist.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Heist?”

She tapped a manicured finger against your chest. “You stole my heart first.”

Your face heated up. “That was… disgustingly smooth.”

“I know.” She leaned in, voice softer now. “But I mean it.”

For all her bravado, there was something genuine in the way she looked at you—something unguarded, just for you. You swallowed, trying to keep up with her pace. “So… is this where you sweep me off my feet and take me away?”

Rouge hummed, pretending to think. “Tempting. But I’d rather stay right here.”

She kissed you then, slow and deliberate, her hands tracing over your shoulders like she was mapping every inch of you. When she pulled away, she grinned. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sugar.”

And just like that, she was gone, slipping back into the shadows—but not before leaving a single, heart-shaped ruby in your palm.

She may have been a thief, but tonight, she was the one who had given something away.

Love at the Speed of Sound

Dating Sonic was like trying to hold onto a summer breeze—he was fast, untouchable, and always on the move. But somehow, against all odds, he always found his way back to you.

Which was why, on Valentine’s Day, you weren’t expecting anything too special. Sonic wasn’t exactly the chocolates-and-roses type. You figured maybe a quick visit, a few jokes, and then he’d be off, chasing another adventure.

What you didn’t expect was him showing up at your door, grinning ear to ear, holding a blindfold.

“Uh,” you said, eyeing it. “Do I even want to know?”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?” Sonic wiggled the blindfold in front of you. “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

You sighed but let him tie it over your eyes. The next thing you knew, he had scooped you into his arms, wind rushing past as he took off running.

Your stomach flipped as he skidded to a stop. “Okay, ready?”

He tugged the blindfold off, and your breath caught. You were standing at the peak of a cliff, overlooking an endless ocean. The sunset turned the sky into a painting of pink and gold, waves crashing below. It was breathtaking.

Sonic leaned against the railing, smirking. “Not bad, huh?”

You turned to him. “You ran me all the way out here just for a view?”

“Nah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I mean, yeah, it’s nice and all, but… I just wanted to spend today with you. No running off, no bad guys. Just us.”

Your heart melted. For all his speed, for all his need to be anywhere but standing still, he had chosen to stop—just for you.

He stretched out a hand. “So… what do you say? Wanna watch the sunset with me?”

You took his hand, fingers lacing together. “I’d race you to it, but we both know I’d lose.”

Sonic laughed. “Yeah, but I’d let you win just this once.”

And for once, he didn’t run away.

Genius at Work

Tails had been locked in his workshop all day. You weren’t surprised—once he got lost in a project, hours could pass without him realizing it. But it was Valentine’s Day, and you weren’t about to let him spend it cooped up with nothing but blueprints and half-finished gadgets.

You knocked on the door. “Tails? You in there?”

A crash, a muffled “Ow,” and then, “Uh—yeah! Hold on!”

A moment later, he opened the door, goggles perched on his forehead, fur smudged with oil. “Oh! Hey, What’s up?”

You held up a small box. “Figured you’d forget to eat, so I brought you something.”

His ears perked up, tails wagging slightly. “Oh! Thanks!” He took the box, opening it to reveal a homemade meal, carefully packed. His eyes softened. “You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” You leaned against the doorway. “You do a lot for everyone, Tails. Thought someone should return the favor.”

He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed but clearly touched. “I guess I do get carried away sometimes…”

You grinned. “That’s what I’m here for—to remind you to actually be human. Or, well… fox.”

Tails laughed. “Well, in that case—wanna see what I’ve been working on?”

You knew what that meant: hours of enthusiastic explanations, endless tinkering, and getting caught up in his excitement. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sweeter Than Candy

Amy had never been subtle about her feelings. She loved love. She believed in grand gestures, romantic confessions, and fairytale endings.

So when she showed up at your door on Valentine’s Day, holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, you knew exactly what was coming.

She took a deep breath, gripping the box like it was a lifeline. “Okay! I rehearsed this, but now that I’m actually here, I’m kinda panicking—”

You reached out, gently squeezing her hand. “Amy. Breathe.”

She exhaled. “Right. Okay. Here goes.” She thrust the chocolates toward you. “I like you.”

You blinked. “I—”

“Like, a lot,” she continued, words tumbling out in a rush. “Like, more-than-friends like. Like, every time I see you, my heart does this stupid little happy dance, and I think you’re amazing, and I—”

“Amy.” You smiled, taking the chocolates from her hands. “I like you too.”

She froze. “You—wait, really?”

You laughed. “Yeah, really.”

Amy made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a gasp. “Oh my gosh! Okay, um—wait, I had a whole speech planned, and now I—wait, no, that doesn’t matter, because—you like me back!”

She threw her arms around you, squeezing tight, her hammer clattering to the ground as she forgot everything else. You hugged her just as tightly, warmth blooming in your chest.

Amy pulled back, eyes sparkling. “So does this mean I can call you my Valentine?”

You tapped your chin, pretending to think. “Hmm… I dunno. What’s in it for me?”

She gasped dramatically. “Rude!”

You laughed, and before she could protest, you leaned in, kissing her cheek. “Of course, I’m your Valentine.”

Amy beamed. “Best. Valentine’s Day. EVER.”

#gender neutral reader #gn reader #gn!reader #shadow x you #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #rouge the bat #rouge the bat x reader #tails miles prower #knuckles the echidna #knuckles x reader #silver the hedgehog #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader

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wosospacegirl · 17 hours ago

Text

And they were roommates - part 2

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; reader might have a crush on Kyra ;)

Word count: 3.4k

| PART 1 HERE |

Over the next few days, Kyra and Y/n settle into a comfortable, domestic routine.

Kyra was the first to wake up each day. She went straight to Y/n’s room to check on her and give her her morning medication, along with a cup of black coffee.

Y/n didn’t like mornings, especially now with the heavy cast on her leg. Kyra, on the other hand, loved mornings, so she sat by Y/n’s bed and chatted for 20 minutes straight while Y/n nodded along to whatever Kyra was saying.

“—And that's how we’re beating Man United this weekend,” Kyra concluded after a long thought process about technical strategies that would lead the Gunners to yet another victory. “I mean, they can’t keep putting her as a winger, right?” Kyra turned to Y/n, waiting for her to nod again.

“How can you have so much to say at 7 am?” Y/n asked, hiding her face in her pillow.

“I just do, it’s a talent, you wouldn’t know it, Grumpy,” Kyra shrugged and threw herself on the bed next to Y/n, the sunlight hitting Kyra’s freckles.

Kyra was wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old, oversized t-shirt, she looked pretty, comfy, and very cuddly too.

“Will you come with me today?” Kyra asked, changing the subjects, caution in her voice.

“Where?” Y/n asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to go to physiotherapy or the doctor for another two weeks.

“Training?” Kyra explained, holding her head with one hand as she rested her elbow on the mattress. “They miss you, the girls, I mean. You could go there for a few hours, talk to Alessia, Leah, Steph… I bet Win misses you too,”

“I’m not in the mood,” Y/n said, turning her back to Kyra. Y/n missed the girls, but it would be too upsetting to see them running around while she could barely stand on her own.

“You’ve said that the last three times, Y/n” Kyra sighed. “You haven’t left the house, not once, and you also won’t talk to anyone but me and your mom. That’s worrying. You can’t just wait for me to come home every day, you also need to do relaxing and fun things for yourself.” Y/n felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulder. It was Kyra’s hand.

You can’t just stay here in bed and rot, maybe you could start a new hobby! Painting, sudoku, I don’t know!””Kyra continued, using the serious tone she never used with Y/n. “You need to see people, see your friends, get some fresh air.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “And do what? Talk about how miserable I am all the time?” Y/n said bitterly.

Kyra didn’t understand.

She had never been seriously injured before, she didn’t know what it was like to just go to bed every day not knowing what the future held. Football was everything to Y/n. It was her passion, her hobby and her career. Ninety per cent of her friends were footballers themselves, her whole social circle revolved around football.

Without it, she was nothing Football’s been her thing since she was a kid. Y/n had grown up with a ball on her feet, and now it was gone, and she didn’t know if she would get it back. Right now, Y/n was nothing.

Kyra pressed her lips together and stared at the girl, trying to think of what to say.

“Go away please, I want to be alone,” Y/n muttered after the room had gone quiet.

“No,” Kyra said. “Let’s talk about this, let’s—”

“Go. Away.” Y/n snapped.

Y/n felt the shift in the mattress. Kyra wasn’t sitting on it anymore. “You can’t keep pushing people away, it’ll only hurt you even more,” Kyra said quietly. “You can’t let yourself go like that, you know how easy it is for us athletes to get depressed after an injury, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not depressed, Kyra!” Y/n locked eyes with the other girl, anger slowly building in her chest. “I just don’t have anything! If I talk to the girls all I’ll think about is how they’re playing and I’m not.

“You don’t have anything?!” Kyra raised her voice. “What do you mean you have nothing? You’re not just your fucking leg, or your football—You’re a whole person! Just because you can’t play right now doesn’t mean you have no worth.”

Y/n remained silent as Kyra’s voice escalated. Kyra was starting to get angry with her. Kyra had never been angry with her before.

“You are injured! Your tibia split in two, of course, it’ll take some time to heal. Does that mean you have to stay in the house for the remaining months? Of course not!” Kyra’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath.

“Kyra, my whole life had been inside a pitch, I don’t know how the fuck to live without knowing if I’ll ever be in one again!” Y/n exploded, pointing at her cast “And this fucking leg hurts all the time, it’s always a reminder of how unhappy I am and how the world kept on moving while I just stay here!”

“But you don’t have to just stay here! You are the one who is avoiding the world, but it hasn’t stopped for you, it never has! Especially because you have people who care about you! You would know that if you would answered your phone when your friends called,” Kyra rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

“Why is it so hard for you to be kind and patient with yourself?” Kyra asked, looking genuinely confused, trying to find the answer to her question on Y/n’s face. “It’s so easy to treat you well, I don’t know why you find it so difficult.”

Kyra finally took a deep breath, and then another.

“Okay, I’m calm now. I’m sorry,” Kyra said, unclenching her fist. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I know you’re frustrated and angry right now. I just wish you’d be more compassionate with yourself and your body.

The room was silent.

“I’ll just… go then. I have to be at training in half an hour anyway,” Kyra took a step closer to where Y/n was lying, she dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “Just don’t—rot in bed the whole day, ok? I’ll buy you some food and send it over at lunchtime so you can eat something other than crisps”.

Y/n felt her skin warm where Kyra had kissed her. She barely had time to process it before Kyra pulled away. “Okay, thank you,” Y/n whispered, she couldn’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

She should say something, she should say how sorry she was and how ungrateful she had been, Kyra didn’t complain about having to put up with her. Often Y/n felt that she didn’t deserve to have Kyra by her side and now was one of those times. She felt embarrassed by the way she just acted.

Y/n wasn’t someone who felt at ease with vulnerability. She didn’t normally let people see her at her lowest, except her closest friend, of course, but even now the thought of seeing them, of going back to Arsenal, even if for a few hours, felt excruciating.

It was as if life was mocking Y/n. Everyone’s life would go on, even if hers was frozen in time. Arsenal still had good and healthy athletes to train.

Kyra still had responsibilities to attend ttoY/n didn’t, not for the months ahead of her.

Eight months the doctor said, eight months until (and if) she could run. Would she be this bitter for that long? Was she going to stay frustrated with everything and everyone forever? Was she going to shut herself off from her teammates—her friends—if she didn’t heal the way she intended?

Change was a slow process, but Y/n decided to start it right now.

“Ky?” Y/n called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m being an idiot,” Y/n admitted.

Kyra smiled. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologized. Small steps.

“It’s fine, you are a lot meaner when you lose at UNO, it didn’t scare me.”

Both girls smiled at each other.

Kyra held no grudges; it was one of the things Y/n admired the most about her.

“But if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll let me do something,” Kyra added, mischievous in her voice.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What?’

“You’ll see,” Kyra said before leaving the room. “I’ll be back around 3 pm, see you!”

Y/n heard the front door close, and now she was alone. Y/n thought she enjoyed being alone, but deep down she didn’t. She missed Kyra when she was away. The house no longer felt warm and comforting; instead; it felt cold and isolated.

Y/n thought about Kyra’s words; about her being kind to others and not to herself. When Beth and Viv tore their ACLs, Y/n committed herself to take their dogs on a walk every day, since the couple couldn’t walk.

When Vic got injured Y/n made sure she was left alone during the physio sessions. When Leah also tore her ACL she made sure to call her every day to see how she was doing; Leah, unlike Y/n, answered her calls.

Y/n had so much love and support around her. She needed it to allow herself to receive it.

Y/n looked around her room. It felt strange now. Before her surgery, she had thought the room was rather cosy, with its green walls and light wooden furniture, but now it felt like a prison.

Maybe Kyra would agree to put on a mattress in the living room and make it into a bed. Then both girls could just sleep there, and watch some films. It would probably bring Y/n some comfort.

Hours later Kyra came back from training wearing a black kit. Her hair was in a ponytail, with grass and dirt on it. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was because of their fight earlier, but Kyra seemed different somehow . Even though Kyra was all dirty, y/n couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked. She realised she hadn’t seen Kyra with her hair in a ponytail before, she always wore it in a bun. It was nice, maybe the new hairstyle was the reason why Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Cute, Kyra is cute.

She has always been cute, of course, but in the last few days, she looked even prettier. It’s okay to think your friends are cute. It was normal. Y/n thought to herself as Kyra bent down to take out her shoes, the black legging hugging her body. The book Y/n had in hand long forgotten.

Hot. Y/n thought. She was hot.

Maybe it wasn’t okay to think your friends were hot.

“Sorry?” Kyra asked turning to face Y/n.

Y/n widened her eyes. “What? Y/n said, her cheeks flushed. Fuck, had she said that out loud? And why did she sound so defensive? Chill out. “I didn’t say anything., she said, in a calmer tone, closing her book.

“Yes, you did,” Kyra insisted, looking at her with a smile. She let her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulder.

“Nop! You’re going mad, I’m afraid.” Y/n asserted, chin up.

“It must be all the time we spend together, then” Kyra raised a brow.

A lot of time together, indeed.

“Wait, is that a book? I haven’t seen you with a book for a while, I’m proud you still know your letters.” Kyra continued, a smirk on her face

Kyra was right, thought. With football and national camps, she hadn’t had time to read. It had been embarrassing years since she picked up a book. But now she had time, so she just took advantage of it.

“Haha you’re so funny,” Y/n said dryly. “You told me to do something nice for myself, so I decided to read this book I had lying around,” Y/n said, proudly.

Kyra looked dramatically surprised. “Wow, you actually listened to me? Did something happen while I was gone? Did you fall? Oh, you might have brain haemorrhage!”

“The ability you have to turn a normal conversation into a sarcastic one will always blow my mind,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“Good thing I love to blow your mind,” Kyra said before realizing the double meaning of what she just said.

The girls stared at each other.

“Okay that was awkward,” Kyra mumbled, blushing. “I mean it like—”

Y/n laughed, thinking it was cute how embarrassed Kyra looked. Usually, Kyra was the one who put people in awkward situations.

“It’s all right, I got what you meant,” Y/n said, offering a small smile. “So—” She changed the subject, not wanting Kyra to feel uncomfortable. “What was that thing you wanted me to do so you can forgive me?”

Kyra looked at her watch. “You won’t have to do anything. But they will be here soon.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “Did you get that line from some horror film? Who the hell are they?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun, I’m trying to be mysterious here”.

“You sound suspicious, not mysterious!”

“Oh, shut up, just sit there and look pretty, no more questions, please.”

Y/n welcomed the compliment “Why, because you won’t be able not to tell me?” She challenged.

Kyra was the worst secret keeper she had ever known.

“You know me so well actually!” Kyra said. “Stop asking questions. I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be right back,” Kyra said before heading upstairs.

Don’t go. Y/n almost said. Almost begged her to keep that kit on so Y/n could just look at her for a few moments.

The thing was: Y/n got used to having Kyra around, not just because she needed Kyra’s help to get things done, but because she just…appreciated her presence.

Y/n was always bored to tears while Kyra was away for training or a match day, so when Kyra came home, Y/n wanted her all to herself. Which was a bit strange.

Kyra Cooney-Cross was making Y/n think of very, very weird things. She wasn’t necessarily upset about it, though.

Minutes later Kyra stepped out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and an Arsenal hoodie. Y/n welcomed the sight more than she’d ever admit. Kyra was pretty, prettier than yesterday and the day before that.

Was Y/n suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? Could that be the reason she was fancying Kyra? As it genuinely finding her attractive and not a bets mate type of way?

Kyra was attractive, of course. But Y/n hadn’t realised just how much it messed with her mind, and mostly her body. Kyra was her friend. Not as in a friends-with-benefits thing, but oh they could be, Y/n would be happy about that.

Kyra moved in to help me out, that’s all. She doesn’t like me that way, and that’s fine. Totally fine. Y/n bit her nails, trying to convince herself.

Before Y/n could spiral any further, Kyra clapped her hands and told Y/n to get ready, because apparently, the visitors they were having over were about to arrive.

An hour later Alessia and Leah stopped by with a warm lasagna on Leah’s hands.

It turned out that Kyra was only forgiving Y/n if she agreed to meet some of their friends and socialise for a few hours. “It’ll do you good” Kyra had said.d

“Hey, pest,” Leah greeted Kyra at the door. “How’s your pest doing? She hasn’t been answering mine or Lessie’s messages for a while now, is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“Well good evening to you too, Leah,” Kyra said ironically, letting both Leah and Alessia in, after kissing Alessia on the cheek.

“Why can’t you be like Alessia, she is so nice!” Kyra pouted, pointing at the blonde girl, “She doesn’t call me a pest or anything.”

Leah laughed and handed Kyra the lasagna. “Lessie girl is too nice to ever tell you the truth.”

Kyra and Leah continued their bickering while Alessia made herself at home. The girl was very familiar with Y/n’s house, having spent many film night’s here with Y/n and Kyra before Y/n’s injury.

Alessia went into the living room, where she found Y/n sitting on the couch, crutches propped up to the side.

“Less” y/n said cheerfully.

“Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” Alessia sat by Y/n’s side, hugging her. “God, I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Y/n smiled and leaned further into Alessia’s embrace. “I missed you too, I feel like dying every time Kyra goes to training and I have to stay here by myself., Y/n confessed.

“Oh, so you miss me when I’m away. That is so lovely to hear!” Kyra's mischievous voice filled the living room as the girl elbowed Leah, “See, I told you she wasn’t bored of me yet.”

“Take me with you, Less, please.” Y/n playfully whispered in Alessia’s ear before the girl’s body was replaced by a taller and leaner one.

Leah hugged Y/n and patted her back before lightly smacking the top of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Y/n whined, pouting.

“Me, Beth, Less, Kim—we’ve all been texting you non-stop, and you won’t text us back!” Leah scolded. “We’re not just your teammates, we’re your friends, in case you forgot!”

“Tough love. Told you.” Kyra chimed in from the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Kyra,” Leah and Y/n said in unison.

Y/n kept her eyes down, feeling a little embarrassed. Leah wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past week, she’d only been texting two people: her mom—because otherwise, she’d probably sent the police down; and Kyra—so she could pick up some snacks for Y/n on her way home.

“I know being injured is hard, but you can’t isolate yourself, especially form us!” Leah continued with a gentle reprimand. “You’re only going to feel worse.”

Leah pointed at Alessia, who was now standing next to Kyra. “Lessie told me you didn’t laugh at the memes she sent you! It’s Less, mate—you can’t make Lessie sad.”

If Y/n wasn’t being lectured by her captain, she would’ve laughed at how Leah was using Alessia’s sweetheart personally to make Y/n feel remorse about being a bad friend.

“Also,” Leah continued, now turning to Kyra. “Can you imagine how hard it is to rely on someone like Kyra for updates? Yesterday, she thought it’d be funny to tell Steph one of your bone screws had come loose.”

Y/n snapped her head towards Kyra, who suddenly looked like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t even get screws in my surgery! The doctor used locking compression plates instead!” Y/n argued.

“Well, you tell that to Steph,” Leah said dryly. “She cried and said we should call the surgeon responsible for letting you leave the hospital with a loose screw in your leg before Kyra finally told her she was just joking and that you were fine at home.”

“I didn’t think she would actually believe it,” Kyra winced, looking away, a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Steph got back at Kyra, don’t worry, Y/n,” Alessia added smiling. “Kyra is now responsible for walking Win every day before training.”

“I hate walking,” Kyra mumbled.

“Should’ve thought of that before messing with Steph,” Leah smirked.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood!” Kyra groaned.

“You don’t always have to fix things with jokes,” Y/n said smiling. “But I appreciate you are—at some point— giving updates to the girls. Still, leave that to me, I’ll start texting you guys back. I am sorry” Y/n apologized, glancing at Leah and Alessia.

“It’s all right kid, we’ve all been there, injuries bring out the worst in us,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Now can we please eat the lasagna Lessie has made us? I’m starving!”

“You made your lasagna?” Y/n asked, her mouth-watering.

“Sure did. I know it’s your favourite,” Alessia said with a wink.

“May you be blessed for all eternity, Less,” Y/n said with an utmost stone face. “It’s been days since I’ve had good food.”

Kyra helped Y/n with her crutches before asking, a firm hand on her lower back. “Days? I’ve been making nutritious meals for us since you got back from the hospital!”

“Putting frozen pizza in the oven isn’t ‘making nutritious meals,’” Y/n teased, accepting Alessia’s hand as she sat down on the dining chair.

“I’m trying my best here,” Kyra huffed, crossing her arms.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. And I appreciate it very much.” She smiled.” Now let’s eat before Leah passes out from hunger.”

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

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fandomfablesunleashed · 23 hours ago

Text

Heartfelt Deception

Law x reader (she/her)

Modern AU, fake-dating, friends-to-lovers, like one swear word.

Summary: Law asked you to attend a charity event his hospital is hosting as his fake girlfriend. As if that wasn’t enough, it’s happening on Valentine’s Day.

Words: 7.7k

Notes: For the Valentine’s Week event. I had this whole fake dating-to-hospital event idea for the ficmas event, but I scrapped it because I didn’t have much time to write it then. I’m so glad I did, though, because I think the story turned out much better for Valentine’s Day than it would have for Christmas.

English is not my first language

Masterlist

Dr. Trafalgar Law was pacing back and forth in the small office of the hospital. His fingers drummed anxiously against the table as he read the charity event invitation for the fifth time, each glance making his pulse race a little faster.

The truth was, Law never liked events like this. Fundraisers, speeches, fake smiles—it all made him itch with discomfort. His introverted nature clashed with the expectations of being a ‘people person’ in the medical field, and the last thing he wanted was to attend an event where everyone would be looking at him.

A month ago, during yet another relentless round of coworkers begging him to attend an after-work gathering, Law had casually mentioned that he had plans. But instead of letting it go, they kept pressing, demanding to know why he was always declining invitations. Frustrated, he blurted out that he needed to spend time with his girlfriend. Before he could even think, the hospital buzzed with talk about his mysterious partner, one no one had ever met. Now, he was cornered into bringing his partner to the hospital's prestigious charity gala on Valentine’s Day. The irony wasn’t lost on him—his colleagues were all too eager to point out how fitting it was to host an event focused on heart issues on a day devoted to hearts.

As one of the hospital’s top cardiac surgeons, Law was expected to be a key speaker. Worse still, he was supposed to bring his girlfriend. But the problem? He didn’t have one.

There was only one person he could turn to—you.

“You want me to do what?!” you asked, your eyes wide with shock, your coffee cup momentarily forgotten in your hand.

He sighed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “I need you to go with me to that stupid gala as my girlfriend.”

Your brow furrowed as you set the cup down. “You're serious?”

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

“Why would you make up a girlfriend just to avoid gatherings?” you shot back, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed. “You could’ve just said you weren’t interested in going.”

He glanced down at the table, clearly agitated, his fingers tapping against the surface in a nervous rhythm. “It’s not that simple. I’ve already turned them down too many times. They won’t leave me alone. And now I’m expected to show up—with a date. It’s just… ridiculous.”

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, as you considered his words. “Why not just say you broke up recently?”

“Because it’s obvious. Then I lose that excuse for the future,” he said, picking up his cup and drinking from it.

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to wrap your head around the absurdity of it all. “So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, just so you can avoid more gatherings down the line?”

“Yes,” he said simply, as if it were the most logical solution in the world.

You shook your head, unable to help the small laugh that escaped you. “You’re ridiculous. When is this supposed to happen?”

“February 14th,” he replied, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Valentine’s Day?”

He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. “Yeah, they thought they were being so clever with that one.”

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, is this your way of asking me to be your Valentine?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Who’s being ridiculous now?” But then, with a sly smirk, he added, “So... you’re in?”

A long pause hung in the air as you considered his request. The idea of pretending to be his girlfriend was insane, yes. Pretending to be someone’s girlfriend—for Valentine’s Day, no less—was the kind of thing you’d laugh about in a bad rom-com. But the look on his face was impossible to ignore. Desperation, tinged with just enough pride to keep him from outright begging.

Finally, you sighed, crossing your arms as if it might shield you from the insanity you were about to agree to. “Fine. But you owe me big time for this.”

“Don’t worry,” The smirk on his face widened into a grin, and you wondered what exactly you’d just gotten yourself into. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And with that, you sealed your fate.

The day of the event had finally arrived. Law was at your door, punctual as always, ready to pick you up just as you'd arranged. He stood there, dressed impeccably—his sharp suit tailored to perfection, exuding confidence and elegance. You tried your hardest not to stare too much, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly he pulled it all off.

“Ready?” His voice broke through your thoughts.

“Just a moment,” you replied, your voice betraying your hesitation as you moved closer to the mirror. You needed to make sure everything was just right. You were dressed in the outfit that made you feel good about yourself and was fitting for such an event. Yet, despite all the preparation, a knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. The idea of pretending to be Law's girlfriend made you nervous, no matter how hard you tried to pretend it did not.

He sighed when you took your sweet time. “Can you stop checking yourself out?”

You glanced at him, an eyebrow arched. “Sorry for making sure people won’t judge your taste too much...” you muttered, half-amused, half-defensive.

He scoffed as he moved closer, looking at you in the mirror. “Like I care what people think.” Then, with a pause, he added, his voice quieter, almost... sincere, “Besides, you look... stunning.”

You froze for a moment, surprised by his words. “Really?”

“Yes,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His gaze softened, and you swore you saw a hint of admiration there.

“Um, thanks. And... you look amazing too.”

He cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable but trying to hide it. “Let’s just go, shall we?”

“You're sure this will work, right?” Law muttered as he turned to face you.

“Yes, it’ll work.” You flashed a confident grin, trying to reassure him, though you were just as uncertain as he was. “You’re the one who got us into this mess.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

“Well, I can’t believe you made up a girlfriend in the first place,” you shot back. “But here we are.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face again, not sure whether to laugh or groan. It was one thing to get himself into this mess, but dragging you in was entirely a different matter. The pressure was mounting on both of you. Could you really pull this off?

Then you caught his eye. A flicker of humor, a spark of something you couldn’t quite place, passed between you, and at that moment, you knew you could. Maybe this absurd charade wasn’t as impossible as it seemed.

He let out a long breath and straightened his posture, his decision made. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way, then,” you replied, your tone playful, despite the nerves you were still trying to suppress.

He gave a curt nod, opening the door and holding it for you. With that, you stepped into the venue. The Valentine’s Day theme was apparent everywhere—soft pink and red lighting bathed the space, heart-shaped centerpieces adorned every table, and a live jazz band played romantic melodies in the background. You looked over at him and snorted, seeing his expression.

“I take it Valentine’s Day isn’t your favorite holiday?” you teased softly, leaning just close enough so he could hear without anyone else catching on.

Law’s gaze flickered to you, his brow arching slightly. “What gave it away?” he replied dryly, expending his arm to you.

“Oh, just a hunch,” you said with a small smile, slipping your hands through his arm. “You’re doing great, though. Really selling the whole ‘romantic evening’ thing.”

Law’s expression didn’t shift much, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips that told you he wasn’t entirely immune to your teasing. “I’m thrilled you think so,” he muttered as he led you through the crowd. You caught glimpses of the people who had been whispering about Law's relationship for weeks. Their eyes fell on you both with curiosity.

“Dr. Trafalgar!” one of the nurses called out, waving excitedly. She eyed you with a wide smile. “Is this your girlfriend?”

Law’s face remained neutral. “Yes,” he answered smoothly and introduced you.

The nurse let out a little squeal of delight. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” she exclaimed. “We’ve all been dying to know more about Dr. Trafalgar’s mysterious girlfriend.”

You gave a polite smile, taking the opportunity to slip into the role. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too. He talks a lot about his team,” you said lightly, with a little twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Law. He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

The nurse beamed, clearly thrilled to be part of the conversation. “Oh, I'm sure he does,” she said, her eyes still sparkling as she looked from you to Law. “It’s rare to see him... charming.” Her voice dropped to a playful whisper, though it was clear she wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. “We always wondered what kind of woman could put up with him.”

You gave a small, modest laugh, sensing the opportunity to keep the conversation flowing. “He’s not as difficult as he looks.” You turned to Law, flashing him a playful smile. “And I'm quite lucky he let me in.”

Law’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it with his usual impassive expression. “Enough about me,” he said smoothly, redirecting the conversation. “Let’s get you something to drink.” He turned toward the drink table, clearly eager to move on.

As the two of you moved through the gala, a sense of ease settled between you. The people who approached were friendly, curious, and all too eager to meet the mysterious woman who had somehow captured the heart of the elusive surgeon. Law, as always, seemed somewhat distant, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, as if the weight of the event was just a little lighter with you by his side.

“Well, well, if it isn't the lovely girlfriend!” Shachi grinned, giving you a dramatic bow before standing up straight again. “You look awesome.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Shachi. You certainly know how to flatter a girl.”

Penguin let out a low, amused chuckle from behind him. “Yeah, well, Law’s been talking about you for weeks,” he added. “He was so worried about you not showing up and ruining his perfect plan. I’m surprised you agreed to it, honestly.”

You gave Penguin a knowing smile. “What can I say? Someone had to save his ass.” You shot a quick glance at Law, who stood beside you, his expression neutral, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Shachi leaned casually against the table, clearly enjoying himself, and turned to Law with a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, how does it feel to finally have a real girlfriend? I mean, I’ve been hearing rumors about this for a while, but you’re actually pulling it off, huh?”

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t respond immediately, though you could tell he was trying to keep his cool. “This will be a long night,” he muttered under his breath, but his friends were far too eager to let him off the hook.

Shachi’s grin only grew wider. “I’m just curious—how’s the ‘relationship’ going so far?” He glanced at Law, whose jaw was tight, clearly trying to suppress his frustration. “Any sparks flying between the two of you yet?”

“Shachi,” Law said in warning, but he wasn’t listening. Law rolled his eyes, though there was a slight curve to his lips, as if even he couldn’t help but be somewhat entertained by his friends' antics. “I told you I didn’t need this kind of commentary tonight,” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shachi continued, entirely ignoring Law’s attempts to rein him in. “But it’s so much more fun when we do comment.” He threw an arm around Penguin’s shoulder, giving him an exaggerated nudge. “So, Dr. Trafalgar, how’s it feel having your friends finally meet your ‘girlfriend’? You look so… happy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at their antics. “I’m sure Law’s thrilled by all the attention,” you said, playing the part, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Law cast you a sideways glance, but there was something warmer in his eyes than before. “Let’s just get through tonight, shall we?” he said, attempting his best authoritative tone, though there was a clear undertone of amusement, as if he was enjoying it just a little more than he let on.

Just as the playful back-and-forth was beginning to die down, a loud, familiar voice cut through the chatter from across the room.

“YOOO! Look who it is!”

Usopp’s boisterous voice rang out, and you barely had time to brace yourself before he was at your side, grinning like a mischievous cat. He was joined by Kaya, who was looking stunning in an elegant dress, her eyes sparkling as she waved.

Shit. How had you not considered the possibility that Usopp would be here? Kaya was a nurse at the same hospital as Law, and of course, she’d bring him as her plus-one.

“Usopp, Kaya,” you greeted with a smile, trying to remain composed despite the sudden attention being drawn your way. Usopp's loud voice had already caused a ripple of curiosity to spread through the crowd.

Usopp’s gaze darted between you and Law, clearly processing something. “Wait a minute… what are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was just loud enough for the people around you to overhear, making you feel the weight of every set of eyes now shifting in your direction.

You glanced at Law, who was now wearing a mask of calm—though you could tell by the subtle shift in his posture that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the situation. You quickly shot him an apologetic look, trying to keep things as casual as possible. “Isn't it obvious — I’m with Law,” you said with a playful shrug, hoping your tone would deflect any suspicion and begging to whatever higher power that Usopp won't blow your cover.

Usopp blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief, as if you’d just dropped a bombshell. “With Law?!” His voice jumped an octave, loud enough to draw even more attention, and you felt the heat of a dozen curious stares. Your stomach churned as the pressure mounted.

“Well yeah, we’re dating,” you said quickly, trying to offer him a pointed look that screamed for him to lower his voice. You didn’t look forward to clearing that lie later, though.

“What?!” Usopp exclaimed again, louder this time, and you fought the urge to physically drag him into a quieter corner.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, don't be so loud,” you hissed, your smile strained as you resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his mouth. You just needed him to stop.

Your words earned a sharp glance from Law, who was now standing as still as a statue, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with irritation. Though his face remained unreadable to most, you could detect the flicker of unease behind his usually impenetrable demeanor.

Usopp sharp eye for detail and relentless curiosity meant he was undoubtedly piecing things together in real-time, and the last thing you needed was for him to say something he really shouldn't.

Kaya, sensing the tension, stepped in smoothly. “Usopp,” she said, with a small but knowing smile, “maybe we should let them enjoy the night.” She gently nudged his arm, giving you an apologetic look. “It’s good to see you both. I hope you’re having a good time tonight.”

You smiled, grateful for her presence. “We’re managing,” you replied before gesturing toward her. “And you? How’s the night treating you so far?”

She laughed softly. “Oh, it’s been lovely. Usopp keeps insisting he’s the best plus-one anyone could ask for.”

“Because I am!” Usopp interjected, puffing out his chest.

"Nah, I'm way better, right, darling?" you asked playfully, turning to your date.

Law let out a quiet, measured sigh, his eyes narrowing slightly at Usopp, who was still watching far too intently for comfort. Recognizing that all eyes were now firmly on the two of you, he shifted gears seamlessly.

Without missing a beat, he slid an arm around your waist and pulled you a fraction closer. His hand rested lightly yet possessively against your side as he glanced down at you with a smirk. "Obviously."

The gesture—and his confident tone—left Usopp momentarily speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Even Kaya seemed surprised, her eyes darting between the two of you before a knowing smile tugged at her lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, both at Law’s quick thinking and the way his response seemed to silence any further speculation from Usopp. “See?” you teased lightly, shooting Usopp a pointed look. “Told you.”

Usopp opened his mouth, clearly ready to say something outrageous, but Kaya quickly stepped in, tugging on his arm with a bright laugh. “Come on, Usopp. Let’s grab some appetizers"

“This isn’t over,” he muttered under his breath, but he allowed Kaya to steer him toward the other end of the room. You gave her a grateful smile.

“That was close,” you muttered, glancing up at Law. His hand was still resting lightly on your waist.

He tilted his head down toward you, his expression calm but laced with the faintest trace of amusement. “You call that close?”

“Oh, come on,” you whispered back with a grin. “You’ve got to admit, Usopp almost blew it.”

Law’s lips quirked upward in a barely-there smirk. “Almost,” he conceded. Then, lowering his voice even more and murmuring into your ear, he added, “But I don’t mind setting the record straight when needed.”

The way his voice dipped sent a small shiver down your spine, but you quickly composed yourself, stepping slightly closer to him under the pretense of hearing him better.

“Well, you handled it like a pro, Dr. Trafalgar,” you teased softly, leaning just enough to let your words reach his ear.

“Hmm,” he hummed noncommittally.

Before you could respond, the event coordinator’s voice echoed through the hall, announcing the upcoming speeches. The room shifted as the crowd began to find their seats, murmurs of anticipation filling the air.

“You’re up soon,” you reminded him. Reaching out, you placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this,” you said confidently.

He glanced at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a beat, searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe just the comfort of familiarity—before he nodded, a small but grateful gesture. “Thanks.”

As he made his way toward the stage, you couldn’t help but watch him with a sense of pride, your heart swelling with admiration. Even surrounded by the polished elegance of the event and the watchful eyes of so many people, he carried himself with an unshakable determination.

When he reached the podium, the crowd fell silent. He cleared his throat, taking a moment before launching into the speech. He spoke about the advancements in medicine, the importance of community support, and the life-changing surgeries that the hospital’s team performed. But when he mentioned his team and thanked everyone for their hard work, his gaze subtly flickered toward you.

For a moment, he dropped the cold exterior. “None of this would be possible without the support of everyone here,” he said. “And a special thanks to my friends and…my better half, who has been my constant rock. It’s easy to get lost in the hospital. But she keeps me grounded.”

The sincerity in his words was unmistakable. His eyes lingered on you for a fraction of a second—long enough for you to feel the weight of his gratitude—before he looked away, the professional composure sliding back into place effortlessly.

The applause that followed was thunderous, but you barely heard it over the warmth blooming in your chest. As Law stepped down from the podium, his expression was back to its usual stoicism, but the slight flush to his cheeks and the quick glance he shot your way told you everything.

As the applause slowly died down, Law made his way back toward you, weaving through the clusters of guests who offered him brief nods and congratulatory remarks. His posture was relaxed, but you could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders—a clear sign that he was bracing for your inevitable teasing.

When he finally reached you, you wasted no time, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “For someone who wanted to ‘get through the night,’ you sure know how to captivate an audience,” you teased. “And what was that about ‘the one who keeps me grounded’? Are you getting sentimental on me?”

He stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets as his eyes met yours. “Don’t start,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone. “I said what needed to be said.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, crossing your arms and tilting your head. “So, I’m just ‘what needed to be said’ now?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “If you’d prefer, I can take it all back.”

“Not a chance,” you shot back, unable to keep the playful edge out of your voice. “It’s on record now. Everyone here knows I’m the one keeping you grounded.”

Before he could respond, Shachi and Penguin appeared, clearly having caught at least part of the exchange. Shachi was grinning ear to ear, while Penguin’s expression held a more subdued amusement.

“That speech was something else,” Shachi said, clapping Law on the back with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Especially that part about being grounded. You’re getting soft.”

Law’s glare shifted to Shachi, though it lacked any real venom. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” he asked, his voice dry.

“Not when you’re providing this much entertainment,” Shachi shot back without missing a beat.

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, he turned his attention back to you. “Are you enjoying yourself yet?” he asked

You pretended to consider his question, tapping a finger to your chin. “Hmm... between the impromptu Usopp interrogation, the surprise shout-out during your speech, and Shachi’s relentless commentary?” You grinned. “Yeah, I’d say I’m having a great time.”

Law’s exhale was sharp, but his lips twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “Good,” he muttered. “At least one of us is.”

Just as you were forming your response, the event coordinator approached the two of you with a bright smile. “Dr. Trafalgar, your presence is requested for some photos with the donors,” she said, her gaze flicking to you briefly. “And, of course, your lovely girlfriend is welcome to join.”

Law hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he weighed the pros and cons of dragging you into yet another spotlight moment.

You decided to save him the trouble. “We’d be happy to,” you said smoothly, looping your arm through his. “Right, darling?”

The look he shot you was nothing short of murderous, but you only smiled sweetly, patting his arm as the coordinator led you both toward the photographer’s setup.

After the photos, you wandered back to the main room, weaving through the crowd. You spotted Usopp and Kaya near the dessert table, Usopp animatedly telling a story while Kaya giggled beside him. Heart-shaped chocolates and delicate pastries adorned the table, and you decided to grab a couple of treats before heading back to your corner of the room.

“Here,” you said, holding out a piece of chocolate to Law as you both settled near the bar.

He eyed it skeptically. “What’s this?”

“Chocolate,” you replied, popping one into your mouth. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re supposed to eat chocolate. It’s practically a rule.”

Law sighed, but he took the chocolate from your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly in the exchange. He bit into it. “It’s good,” he admitted after a moment.

You smirked. “See? Valentine’s Day isn’t all bad.”

He gave you a sidelong glance. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

You just grinned wider and shrugged. Despite the occasional hiccup—like Usopp’s not-so-subtle attempts to sneak more information out of you—it was hard to deny that you and Law actually did have a great time. The whole evening felt surprisingly natural, even with the added touches and pet names that came with playing your part.

But as the night went on, the carefully constructed charade began to blur, leaving you to wonder if there was something genuine simmering beneath the surface. A fleeting warmth in the way he looked at you, a brush of his hand that lingered just a moment too long. You quickly shook the thought away before it could root itself further.

“You know,” you started, breaking the silence, “Usopp already texted everyone the news.”

Law’s brow furrowed as he glanced at you. “What news?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look.

“Oh. Right,” he said, the realization dawning on his face.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, crossing your arms. “I had to turn my sound off completely—the group chat went insane.”

Law let out a soft groan and reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with a resigned air. He turned the phone toward you, revealing a string of increasingly enthusiastic messages from Luffy:

This is amaizing!!!!

I'M SO HAPPY!!!

GOOD FOR YOU!!!

WHEN DID THIS HAPEN??

Tell me evrything RIGHT NOW!!!

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as you read the flood of texts. Law pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about how ridiculous Luffy was, but the small, reluctant smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“Looks like someone’s excited for us,” you teased, still laughing.

Law rolled his eyes, though the faintest trace of a blush colored his cheeks. “Luffy’s always excited about something. This’ll blow over. We will explain it later or something.”

You swallowed your disappointment and tried to focus on anything other than the fact that today was not as real as it seemed. Your eyes drifted forward just as the band started playing a slow, romantic tune, and couples began drifting toward the dance floor. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down, the atmosphere practically begging for you to make a move.

“Well, darling,” you said, extending your hand toward him with an exaggerated flourish. “Care to dance?”

Law stared at you, his expression caught somewhere between incredulous and amused. “You’re joking.”

“Not even a little,” you replied, wiggling your fingers. “It’s Valentine’s Day. What’s a fake relationship without a dance under the romantic lighting?”

He let out a quiet groan but took your hand anyway, his grip firm and steady. As he led you to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it felt.

For a moment, you both moved hesitantly, as if testing the waters. Law wasn’t one to engage in things like this—public displays of affection, no matter how fake, didn’t exactly come naturally to him. Yet, as the rhythm of the music settled between you, his movements became smoother, more confident. You matched his pace, the two of you falling into an unspoken synchrony.

“You’re better at this than I expected,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a great time.”

You chuckled, your fingers instinctively tightening their grip on his shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re surprisingly good at this.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Surprisingly?”

“Well,” you said with a smirk, “you don’t exactly scream ‘slow-dance enthusiast.’

Law huffed softly, but there was no real irritation behind it. He was paying more attention to the way your body moved in sync with his, the way you shifted your weight with each step.

The scent of his cologne was subtle but intoxicating, and the way his eyes stayed locked on yours made it impossible to look away.

“This isn’t so bad,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” you said, your thumb gently brushing the fabric of his suit jacket. “I know this isn’t exactly your scene. Thanks for humoring me.”

For a moment, something shifted in his expression. The guardedness that usually defined him seemed to waver, replaced by something more vulnerable, something unspoken. His grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you closer, and the distance between you narrowed until you could feel the faint brush of his chest against yours.

“You’re doing all of this for me, the least I can do is survive dancing for your sake,” he answered in his usual manner, and yet, it sounded somehow warmer. Then he added teasingly, “darling”

You tried to diminish how much you loved that nickname coming from his lips.

As the music faded, applause broke out around the room, snapping you back to reality. Law stepped back slightly, his hand falling away from your waist, but the warmth of his touch stayed. He looked at you for a moment longer, his gaze searching, before he cleared his throat and glanced away, the mask of composure slipping back into place.

“Let’s get off the dance floor,” he said, his tone returning to its usual cool detachment. But there was a faint flush to his cheeks that you couldn’t ignore.

“Not bad for someone who doesn’t like Valentine’s Day,” you teased, keeping your tone light, even though your heartbeat had quickened as you followed him off the dancefloor.

Law smirked faintly, his amber eyes locking onto yours. “I never said I didn’t like it,” he replied. “Just that it’s… unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” You arched a brow, tilting your head. “Celebrating love and connection? That sounds pretty necessary to me.”

His grin grew. “If you need a commercial holiday to remind you of that, you’re doing something wrong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his bluntness. “Touché,” you admitted, the moment feeling strangely intimate despite the dozens of other couples around you. He put his hand on your back and gently led you to sit down in the corner. You sat in silence for a moment before speaking again.

“So, are you enjoying the night yet? Or are you still counting down the minutes until it’s over?”

Law let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m surviving,” he replied dryly, though the corners of his lips twitched as though he couldn’t fully keep the amusement from showing. “If I’m being honest, it’s… not as bad as I thought it would be,” he looked sheepish as he added. “Your presence makes it more bearable.”

A warmth blossomed in your chest at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in slightly, your cheek brushing his shoulder. You felt him stiffen for a split second, but then he relaxed, putting his head on yours.

“I didn’t think I’d be… enjoying it,” he continued, his fingers brushing through your hair as if absentmindedly. “But I think I might’ve been wrong.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, finding his gaze already locked on yours. There was no mask of indifference now—just a rare moment of vulnerability, one that you hadn’t often seen. It was disarming. His hand gently cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers.

Your heart fluttered unexpectedly, and you were unsure of what to say, or even if you should say anything at all. The quiet, unspoken understanding between you was enough.

“Well, well, well! Look at you two, all cozy!”

It was Shachi, followed closely by Penguin, and some other colleagues of Law from the hospital. You froze for a split second, pulling away from Law just as his hand dropped from your cheek. Both of you turned toward the intruder, finding a group of Law’s colleagues standing a few feet away.

One of the surgeons, a tall man with a broad grin, chuckled as he shook his head. “Honestly, Law, I didn’t think you were the type to be so… affectionate,” he said with a dramatic sigh, his eyebrows wiggling playfully.

Law’s face immediately shifted to that calm, composed mask he wore so well, but you could see the hint of a blush creeping up his neck. He scoffed. “What did you expect? For me to keep five feet away from someone I care about?”

“We’re just surprised,” the nurse you spoke with first today, smiled softly at the two of you. “But it’s nice to see you so… relaxed. We don’t usually get to see this side of you.” Her tone wasn’t mocking; instead, it held a kind, almost approving quality.

It was clear that they all weren’t just teasing for the sake of teasing—they were happy to see him like this. This side of Law, the one who didn’t always hide behind his usual walls, was a rare sight for most people.

“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” Law muttered, clearly trying to keep the situation under control while simultaneously not looking entirely displeased.

As if they couldn’t resist, one of the younger doctors, a woman with long hair and a teasing smile, smirked at you and asked, “So, come on, how did you two get together? Law didn’t want to say a word about it.” His grin widened as he leaned in, clearly waiting for some kind of juicy story.

You chuckled, glancing at Law, who raised an eyebrow at you as if daring you to come up with an appropriate response.

“Of course he didn’t,” you said with a laugh, nudging him playfully. “He’s never been the type to spill the details, has he?”

Shachi smirked knowingly. “Come on, Law,” he prodded. “We’re dying to know the real story.”

“Well,” you interjected, grinning as you looked at the group. “If you're looking for something juicy, I’m afraid I have to disappoint. We were just good friends for quite a while before it just clicked that there’s more and there’s no running from it. So, with a kiss, we sealed the deal, and are together just like that.” It seemed like a story that could be real, that would suit you both, and what kind of people you are together.

“That’s actually a pretty decent story, considering how tight-lipped you’ve been, Law,” he remarked with a teasing grin.

Law shot him a sidelong glance. “I’m not in the habit of sharing my private life with everyone,” he muttered dryly.

The woman with long hair, clearly delighted by the revelation, nudged Shachi playfully. “Well, it’s good to know Law isn’t entirely immune to matters of the heart. Who knew?” she said with a wink, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to see her usually composed colleague looking slightly flustered.

Law’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the edge of his expression had softened. “I never said I was,” he replied, though there was a faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now.

You smiled at him, savoring the fact that, despite his usual reticence, he hadn’t shut down the conversation.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” you said to the group, “any more questions?

“Not if you want to keep your secrets,” Shachi teased. “I think we’ve learned enough for tonight.”

“Although…” Penguin started to say with a mischievous grin

“Alright, alright,” Law interjected, probably scared that more question may blow your cover. “You’ve had your fun.”

The playful banter continued for a few more moments, with the group lightheartedly poking fun at Law, but without pushing too far. It was clear they were genuinely enjoying seeing him in a different light. Even you couldn't help but smile at how the evening had turned out.

“Alright,” you said, nudging Law lightly with your elbow, “I think we’ve officially survived the interrogation. How about we grab some drinks and escape before they start asking for our love story in full detail?” you whispered.

Law smirked at you, his expression softening just slightly. “Fine by me,” he said, standing up and offering you a hand. “Excuse us for a moment.”

You took his hand, your fingers curling around his with ease. He led you both to the bar and ordered your drinks. When you took them, you found seats nearby.

“They have a point, you know,” you said, leaning back in your seat, sipping your drink as you shot him a teasing glance. “You’re surprisingly sweet with me.”

Law shot you a look, but his lips twitched upward in the barest hint of a smile. “Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no bite to his words.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. “I’m just saying, the way you act tonight—” you paused, letting the words linger in the air, “it’s... kind of adorable.”

“You’re walking a fine line,” he murmured, his tone just low enough that only you could hear, and there was that familiar spark of challenge in it.

You grinned. “I think the real question is, why do you make it so easy for me to tease you?” You leaned back again, propping your elbow on the armrest, your eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Maybe I’m onto something.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have a stronger reaction to you, or I’d make sure you regret that.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the hint of seriousness in his voice. “Oh? Is that a threat, darling?” you asked, half-challenging, half-curious.

He leaned in just slightly, his gaze softening but still intense. “Only if you push your luck too far,” he replied. It was supposed to be a warning, and yet it sounded way…warmer.

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter from across the room caught your attention, and you noticed some of Law’s colleagues still milling about, their eyes frequently darting toward the two of you. They probably thought their glances were subtle, but they really weren’t.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice as you glanced at the group. “Wanna bet they’re talking about us?”

Law smirked, his gaze flicking toward the group before returning to you. “I’m not betting against something that is 100% true,” he replied dryly.

You chuckled softly, lifting your drink to your lips as you watched them huddle together in hushed conversation, clearly intrigued by the dynamic between the two of you. The whole thing was both amusing and oddly satisfying, considering how little effort you'd actually put into keeping this charade together.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence with a light tone, “what now? Do we stick around and continue surviving this ‘unnecessary’ holiday, or do we make our grand exit?”

Law let out a soft sigh, almost as if he were weighing the options. “I think we’ve done enough, surviving for one night,” he said, standing and offering his hand to you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You took his hand, your fingers wrapping around his with the familiar ease. “I like the sound of that.”

As you made your way toward the exit, you said your goodbyes to everyone, your eyes catching a few lingering, amused glances from Law's colleagues.

“Well, I think we’ve both survived tonight, haven’t we?” you asked, looking at him with a teasing look, trying to gauge his mood as you stepped outside.

His gaze softened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I suppose we have,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Though, I’m not sure what’s worse—the questions or your teasing.”

You laughed lightly, squeezing his hand gently. “I think you can handle both.”

“Apparently,” he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Instead of calling for a taxi, Law started leading you toward the nearby park. You certainly didn’t mind the extra time with him—after the whirlwind of the evening, the peaceful solitude of the park felt like a perfect escape.

When you reached a bench by a small pond, Law sat down, and you followed suit, the two of you settling next to each other. For a few moments, neither of you said anything. It felt like the perfect continuation of the night—no more questions, no more performances, just the two of you.

“Thank you,” Law said sincerely.

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected gratitude in his tone. “You're welcome,” you replied easily, your lips curving into a small smile. “I had fun.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” you answered, your smile widening a little. “Did you?”

“I did actually.”

“Good” you said simply. “You know now that they’ll just bother and tease you about me, right?” you added after a moment.

He gave you a side-glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but his gaze softened as it lingered on you. “I can survive that.”

You sat in silence, the quiet comfortable, with your hand still intertwined with his, even though there was no one around that you had to pretend for.

After a while, Law spoke quietly, “That story…

“Huh?” You blinked, trying to recall what he might be referring to.

“About how we apparently came to be… you made it quite believable.” You suddenly remembered your words from earlier: We were just good friends for quite a while before it just clicked that there’s more and there’s no running from it. So, with a kiss, we sealed the deal, and are together just like that.

“Well…um it sounded plausible, did it not?” you said, as you tried to brush off the nerves creeping up.

“It did.” Silence fell again, but this time, it felt different. You wrecked your head as to what to say. You looked at him, hoping for something to break the tension, and found his gaze already focused on you. The intensity of it made it harder to find the right words.

But you didn’t have to say anything—his lips found yours in a tender kiss, slow and gentle, as if testing the waters for something deeper. The world around you seemed to fade away as you leaned into the kiss, your fingers threading through his hair. The moment felt suspended in time, perfect in its simplicity.

When he finally pulled back, his hand still resting against your cheek, you noticed a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was the kind of smile that made your chest tighten, the kind that carried a quiet promise, and the warmth that spread through you was more than just the remnants of the kiss.

“Well, that solidifies that it was all true.”

You heard the familiar voice of Usopp. The sudden intrusion snapped you out of the trance the moment had put you in.

You rolled your eyes, not even glancing in his direction, your focus remaining entirely on Law. “Get lost, Nose-ya. Now,” Law muttered, his voice stern, his gaze unwavering from yours.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” Usopp chuckled, but you weren’t about to let his teasing ruin your moment, not when it felt so real, so raw. You kept your focus on Law, and for a few seconds, there was just the two of you again, the world falling away once more.

“So, is my story true then?” you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, his voice steady but carrying that quiet confidence you’d grown accustomed to.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Can’t believe it happened on Valentine’s Day, after pretending to date for an event.”

“Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all,” he said, the words almost an afterthought. And you couldn’t help but agree as you tugged him closer, your lips finding his in a kiss that was even more intense than the first.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, you looked into his eyes, and something settled in your chest—this was just the beginning of something, something you both weren’t willing to let go of. It was there in the way he looked at you, the way he held you close. You could feel it in your bones that whatever this was, it was real. And it was only just starting.

“Maybe you’re right,” you whispered, your thumb gently brushing over his hand. “Valentine’s Day might not be so bad… when it ends like this.”

He smirked at you, a flicker of that usual sharpness returning, but it was tempered by the tenderness that had emerged throughout the night. “We’ll see if you still feel that way next year,” he said, the challenge in his voice playful, but there was no mistaking the certainty in his words.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned in slightly, teasing him. “You wanna fake-date me for Valentine’s Day next year too?”

His expression softened, the usual sharpness in his gaze replaced by something more tender as his hand brushed gently across your cheek. “No,” he replied quietly, his voice warm and sincere. “I want to be with you—for real.”

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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beldamtarot · 2 days ago

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-ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˊˎ-

Hello there! This is my first pick-a-pile reading here. I'm very sorry for not being able to post sooner, as I'm quite busy with life. But here you go! I'll do my very best to stay as active as possible here and do readings as much as I can.

Also, this reading is The Secret History-themed because I'm rereading the book for the 3rd time now! I really love it so so so much. I highly recommend that book btw! So before further ado, let's dive into your reading. X.

DISCLAIMER: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. Not everything here will resonate nor will be accurate to your situation, as this is a collective reading. For more accurate readings, you may book a reading with me!

If you struggle in choosing between these piles, you may choose more than one if you feel connected to them!

⭑ ─── PILE ONE !

Your future spouse's first impression of you is that you embody both masculine and feminine energies, and you can switch it and turn either energies on and off whenever you want to, like a light switch. When it comes to your masculine energy, your future spouse thinks you're a passionate and adventurous person. I feel like your future spouse finds you hot in your masculine energy. You could be someone who likes to hit the gym and do weightlifting. You could be someone who has muscles. If you're a woman, you could have a big booty and you really have a lot of strength in your lower body, which your future spouse likes looking at. And if you're a man, you really have some muscles on your biceps and you have broad shoulders, which make your future spouse fold. As for your feminine energy, you're someone who's opinionated and doesn't hesitate to speak up. You're not scared of being "too harsh" for other people just because they can't handle the truth. You're someone who doesn't let anyone disrespect you in any way. You're willing to fight them if that means keeping your peace and this serves as a warning for them not to walk all over you again. Your future spouse likes that and admires you for that. I feel like your future spouse finds you extraordinary and different from everyone they have met in the past, and because of that, you pique their interest a lot. I also feel like that your future spouse thinks you tend to feel stuck and have a brain fog whenever you're stressed and overwhelmed. Because of this, they want to help you in any way they can and protect you. You also seem like someone who's willing to take the risk. It's like what they say, take the risk or lose the chance.

Signs: Aries, Libra, Aquarius, Leo, Gemini, Capricorn. Business. Workaholic. Morning coffee. Spilling coffee when in a rush. Office as a workplace. White button-down blouse. Wavy hair. Blonde. Brunette. Long hair with highlights.

⭑ ─── PILE TWO !

I feel like you'll meet your future spouse when everything in your life is falling apart so their first impression of you is that you're brave but miserable and you can't get your shit together. It's when you're so confused with what you're going to do with your life because nothing is going the way you want it to go. Your career is falling apart, you might be sick of your job and thinking of resigning but you can't find another job, or you just got fired, or you're really unemployed and need to get a job. During this time, you'll feel defeated. It feels like life will never be gentle to you, ever. You might be going to clubs or bar, drinking a lot, you might even be sleeping with a lot of people you just met that night and barely know. You have a messed up sleeping schedule, you're awake at night but asleep during the day. You don't eat healthy and you smoke a lot. There's a lot of confusion in this energy and I feel like you'll consider stealing money from people or selling drugs because you don't know how to help yourself financially. And this is where your future spouse comes along. I feel like your future spouse has been there and they also went through so much. They already know how to take a grip and take control of their life, and I feel like they will help you get through this. I'm seeing that when you meet, you might be drunk in the middle of the night and they will help you get sober so you can go home safely. I'm seeing a woman drunk and a man helping her, so most of you here could be women. Though they will take you home themselves and ensure that you're safe. But when you get home. Nothing will happen between you that night. Nothing sexual. They respect you a lot and will never take advantage of you. I feel like this is when you realize that they are the one for you, and they inspire you to change for the better. It feels as though this person leads you to the light at the end of the tunnel.

Signs: Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius, Pisces, Sagittarius. Paris. Big cities. Bar. Clubbing. Alcohol and wine. One night stand. Junk food. Fries. Burger. Pizza. The movie The Menu. Anya Taylor Joy. Francis. French.

⭑ ─── PILE THREE !

Your future spouse sees you as the one for them, the moment they see you. I feel like this is love at first sight, whether you like that concept or hate it. They think you're a happy and jolly person, it seems like, to them, you don't have any problems in life. And they know that of course, you have, because no one in this world has zero problems in life. But you make it look so easy, it's like you're not dealing with anything because you're a calm person and you have everything all-together in your life. It's like, even if you get upset over something, you know how to deal with it without crashing out. I also feel like you catch your future spouse's attention in the crowd. You both could be in a crowd of people, maybe at a business party of a friend's party. I see a woman holding a glass of champagne or any drink, talking to some people, and the man is walking towards her to approach her. So I feel like most of you in this pile are women too. I also feel like your future spouse might be someone who likes to make plans. They will let you be in your feminine energy while they handle everything. It's like, you don't have to worry about anything, I have it all under control. You or them or the both of you could be asking people about each other because you have a lot of connections with other people, so it's like you're both connected to each other all along, you just haven't met sooner yet. It's giving the invisible string theory where you're both in the same place at the same time, you just haven't met sooner because it wasn't the right time. You might even have pictures where the other is in the picture, you just didn't realize it before. And in the eyes of your future spouse, you're a confident person and really attractive physically. You have a specific charm where you can charm everyone in the room.

Signs: Libra, Taurus, Scorpio, Cancer, Virgo. Blonde. Blue eyes. Barbie. Elegant & classy fashion style. Black hair. The movie How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Business party. The series Emily in Paris. Swan lake.

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thefluxsystem · 2 days ago

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10 mindsets about my DID that have helped my system:

[This is solely for the sake of sharing experiences & supplying food for thought. This post is not implying these takes are the “right way” to view systemhood.]

1. We’re individuals and we’re parts of a whole. We see each other as people in our system, but in a different way than those in their own bodies. We share a brain. We share a life. I’m me, but I’m also him/her/them at the same time. If you take a piece out of a puzzle, it doesn’t cease to exist, right? It’s still its own object. It just doesn’t make much sense when it stands alone. We need each other to be truly complete.

2. Time keeps coming. I know it’s not an unlimited resource, but it’s not scarce either. Okay, so somebody in the system didn’t get to do what they planned today. They’ll do it tomorrow. No big deal. No need to fight about it or stress over “how I’ll ever manage all this”. We’ll simply give it another shot in the morning.

3. Reality is subjective. We’re a very philosophically-inclined system, and I could write books on what “reality is subjective” means. Basically, reality is based on perception. On a societal level, it is based in the common agreement of what something is. If anyone’s perception tests the limits of this common agreement, it is labeled as untrue. This ties into why DID is largely disbelieved; it doesn’t fit in with the common reality (perception) of the average person. So it is seen as fake. And, well, if I’m going to be told I’m wrong for the most basic, inherent part of this disorder… I don’t really care if they disagree with any other aspect of it. My reality is different. That’s okay.

4. There is no original. I strongly believe the Theory of Structural Dissociation. Maybe science will prove it wrong with a more suitable theory to take its place in the future, but it’s what I roll with at the moment. Now, to us, this translates as “there is no original/we were all the original”. We’re Adventure Time fans, so we think of it like the “Mother Gum”. If all of the Mother Gum broke off into people (like PB & Neddy), no specific one of them would be “the original”. Rather, they’d all be repurposed parts of the original whole. (In a less serious way, we like to say “we all came from the primordial personality soup”.)

5. Our body is shared equally. We’ve decided our body has its own identity & “look” that helps represent us as a whole, but doesn’t take after one member specifically. In a gnawingly self-aware way, I know this is a further form of dissociation. But adopting this view changed a lot for us in a positive way. We don’t fight about hair or clothes anymore, we don’t have discomfort around our legal name, we don’t even really have struggles with gender/sexuality anymore. (We identify differently internally, but externally we identify as nonbinary & bisexual. Even if the person fronting at the moment is, for example, a gay man.)

6. Be open-minded to what happens internally. Seems straightforward enough, but we’ve wasted a lot of time trying to “make rules” for each other in the system. The biggest example I can think of is in-system dating. Around 10 years ago, as we became more aware of each other, it became clear that two system members were basically in love. We immediately became defensive. We told them that they couldn’t do that, that two system members being together was absurd & “impossible”. (This view became stronger after discovering online system spaces & “fakeclaimers” that come with it.) Though we regret it now, we shamed those two a lot in the hopes they’d drop it. They didn’t. About 3 years later it became an actual problem. They didn’t trust us; they were fronting & we were coming back to absolutely no memory of it (we usually have a vague idea at least). Eventually, they wrote us a whole thing about how they were going to be together & there was really nothing anyone could do about it, seeing as we couldn’t technically keep them apart. In modern day, we’ve had an in-system couple recently fuse. Upon reflection, we were standing in the way of genuine healing by trying to break up the first two, and we did so solely out of shame. As long as it isn’t genuinely causing harm, we try to be accepting of each other these days. This applies to a lot of other aspects; how system members appear internally, the pronouns and/or identity labels they choose, anything to do with how system members engage with each other, our differing individual perceptions of an event, etc.

7. We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to love each other. Mostly because, if we don’t, we’re holding hatred for ourself. There are certainly members of my system I would never choose to befriend if we were actually separate people, but we’re not, and we don’t get to act like we are. So even though it’s hard, I’m learning to love every piece that makes up “me”, no matter how difficult they try to make it at times.

8. Nobody’s system works like mine except for mine. Meaning, no two systems are going to be alike, and experiences aren’t often going to translate perfectly. This is true for people who aren’t systems as well— everyone’s experience is going to be different, because nobody is wired exactly the same way. Once I took that to heart, it became easier to focus on my own way of being. I could take the pieces of represented/online systemhood that resonate with me & leave the rest (which probably resonates with someone else).

9. There’s a reason for everything. This kind of ties back into the ‘we have to love each other’ thing. Each component of the system is a clue regarding how to move forward. We had someone in the system getting really uptight & controlling, to a point that it was irritating, but, taking a step back, we recognized it was a response to feeling a lack of control. Instead of simply getting angry at him for how he was acting, we were able to address the problem. My collective self is more laid-back for it.

10. It’s okay not to focus on it all. DID is a part of my life for the rest of it, whether I like it or not, but it’s nice to let it be a background thing every once in a while. Who’s fronting? Who cares. What roles do we have? I don’t know. Who’s this new person in my head? I’ll figure it out later. We’re making it through as a team, and sometimes that’s enough.

#x Nathan #system stuff #did stuff #sysblr #actually did #did community #did system #flux shares #flux speaks #system journal #dissociative identity disorder #sysconversation #(I feel like some of this could inspire other topics)#feel free to use as a jump off point #no dni #drafts #(hoping nobody in the system deletes this as they tend to do)

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itsnesss · 1 day ago

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omg so i’ve had this idea for a while but, imagine pregnant reader in the squid games and she’s jun ho’s wife but instead of being on the boat, he joins the games with gi hun and is shocked to see reader there because he had no idea she was in debt. they have an emotional reunion and maybe she gets pushed out of a room during the mingle game but he saves her. can it be angsty with a fluffy ending ? thank you !! :)

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | pregnant!reader, angst, violence, emotional distress, tense atmosphere

word count | 1.3 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

"The air feels heavy, as if desperation hangs in every corner. You look around and see the same in the faces of all the players: fear, exhaustion, resignation. They're here for the same reason as you. The debts.

Your fingers brush the number embroidered on your jacket.

286.

It's ironic. You never thought you'd end up here, in this hell, betting your life for money. And yet, here you are, with an even heavier burden on your shoulders.

Instinctively, one of your hands rests on your abdomen.

It’s not too noticeable yet, but you feel it. Your baby is there.

A knot of anxiety forms in your throat. You can't afford to think about the future. Not when every minute here could be your last.

"Jun-ho!"

The mention of that name grabs your attention.

It can’t be.

You turn your head toward the source of the call and then you see him.

Your world stops.

He's standing a few meters away, wearing the same player uniform as everyone else, but with an expression you've never seen before on his face.

His dark eyes lock onto yours as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

Your breath catches.

"What...?" His voice is barely a whisper. His lips part, but it seems like the words are stuck in his throat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The room fades into a distant murmur. You can't move. You can't speak. All you can do is look at him.

He, on the other hand, acts.

He takes two long steps toward you and grabs your arms firmly, as if he needs to make sure you're real.

"Tell me this is a joke," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Tell me you're not here..."

Your lips tremble.

"Jun-ho..."

He blinks, still stunned.

"I don't understand," his voice is a whisper full of anguish. "How... how did you end up here?"

You look down, feeling the weight of guilt crush you.

"The debts..." you murmur. "I got into trouble and... I didn't want to tell you."

His grip on your arms tightens.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I didn’t want to be a burden," you whisper, with burning eyes.

He freezes.

Anger and pain mix on his face.

"You’re my wife," he says in a low voice but with intensity. "You would never be a burden."

Your bottom lip trembles. It hurts so much to have kept this from him.

Jun-ho doesn't let go of you. He takes care of you with a devotion you’ve never seen before. He leads you by the hand through the halls, making sure you’re safe, and in every corner, his concerned gaze doesn’t fade. You spend the day in silence, finding refuge in the calm you can give each other.

When night falls, he sleeps by your side, watching over you, and although exhaustion consumes him, he doesn’t let you go. The next day, at the next game: Mingle.

All the players start moving, shoving each other, desperately trying to reach the rooms.

Jun-ho grabs your wrist.

"Let’s go!"

You both run as the platform stops, dodging the players who are frantically running.

"Find a door!" Jun-ho shouts.

You run as fast as you can, but you feel the extra weight on your body.

You can't go as fast as the others.

Your breath becomes erratic, and just as you see an empty room…

A brutal shove pushes you to the side.

You don’t have time to react.

Your body loses balance, and before you can process it, the void opens beneath your feet.

A scream is choked in your throat.

But before desperation can completely engulf you, hands catch you.

"Don’t let go!" Jun-ho’s voice is a desperate shout.

Your heart races when you realize you’re hanging in the air.

You cling to his wrist with all your strength, feeling his fingers dig into your skin.

"Jun-ho!"

The weight of your body drags him, but he doesn’t let go.

His muscles tense as he tries to pull you up.

From a nearby door, a familiar voice shouts.

"Here! Hurry!"

It’s Gi-hun.

Jun-ho gathers all his strength and pulls you up.

At the last second, he runs with you in his arms and jumps into the room, just as the door slams shut behind you.

The sound of gunshots rings out from outside.

Those who didn’t make it inside.

Your legs tremble and you fall to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jun-ho falls beside you, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" his voice trembles, his hands tracing your face in desperation. "Did you get hurt?"

Tears fall from your face.

"Jun-ho..."

You can’t speak. You can only cling to him.

He wraps his arms around you and presses his forehead against yours.

"I almost lost you..."

You sob, burying your face in his neck.

Then, you feel it.

A slight movement in your abdomen.

Jun-ho feels it too.

He freezes.

With trembling hands, he lowers them to your belly.

"It moved...?" His voice is a broken whisper.

You nod, with tears sliding down your cheeks.

A shaky sigh escapes his lips and he closes his eyes tightly, as if trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

"I’m going to get you out of here," he murmurs. "Both of you."

You don’t have the strength to answer. You only cling to him, letting his warmth surround you.

You don’t know what will happen next.

But in this moment, in his arms, you feel safe.

#squid game #squid game 2 #hwang jun ho #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang junho #jun ho x reader #junho x reader

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mintfullyyours · 7 hours ago

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something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you.

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now.

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa @thegirlintheshadows101 @galactict3a @star-buck-barnes @synamonthy @vylaris @vvenus-child @negomisan @heretoreadanddrinktea @mocalocha @icommitwarcrimes @readingcatinacorner @just-lilita @blackhawkfanatic @kristalhi

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 8 hours ago

Text

Say it back | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: Playing jokes with your husband its never a good idea.

Warnings: Obsession - Possessive!Salesman - Suggestive - Unhealthy relationship - Suggestive -

"I love you my Love, have a good day" The Salesman says kissing your lips, checking himself on the mirror one last time before going to the door.

And he stops.

Because the Salesman its a creature of habit. Morning routines have centrain aspects that cant be changed.

And one of them is getting a kiss from you and a "I love you back" before he opens the door to leave and meet the future unfortunated ones for the games.

But he hears nothing, just the soft music from your phone as you eat your breakfast.

The Salesman waits, one, two, up to three minutes.

He goes back to check if he did forgot something. Was this a special date ? No. Did you two have anything planned ? No. Did he do something drastic to you this morning? No.

He leans in front of you, turning the music off.

"My Love" He starts tone calm, way too calm. "I said I loved you"

"Yes, I did hear" Its your response "Can I get my phone back?" You ask him and when he puts it away and leaves his briefcase you know you have done it.

You fucked up.

"Dear wait-" You stand up trying to rasonate with him but he is not listening as he walks towards you like a predator. "I was just-"

You are cut off as he pushes you against on the wall hard. The air leaving your lungs for a moment. Your head does not hit the wall because his hand was in between.

"You were wait my Love?" He asks right into your ear his grip on your arm strong and possessive as his other one goes down caressing your side stopping at your hip. "Please enlight me on what you were doing" He says biting your neck softly

Maybe your brain did not register the threat tone his voice carries or maybe you wanted to see how much you could push him.

"I was having breakfast till you decided to get back and interrump me"

By the cold look he gives you and the shiver that runs down your spine thats both from exciment and fear you know you have made him mad.

"Oh, so you were doing that?" He asks, there is a warning there. He knows what you are doing and he is not liking it.

He takes your neck in one hand giving it a firm grip, its not enough to let yourself without air but enough for it to feel like a real warning and a danger. To let you know just as much as he can love you he can hurt you.

"I will give you a second chance" He says one hand cupping your core making you gasp "And if you answer like a good wife, the good one I know you are I will think on not being too...rough with you"

Maybe. Thats the last word his mind thinks.

"I- I was going to say that I loved you back but I forgot" You lie feeling one finger go inside your pants and past your undewear teasting you. "P-Please I just-"

But he does not believe you. He knows how to read people and hell, he knows how to read you. Part of you was made by him.

"You forgot?" He says adding pressure on your neck and his finger starting to go faster inside you "You forgot how much you love ? Tell me does this happen often ? Or did you wake up and decide to hurt my feelings today ?

He sees your cheeks go red and your breathing faster. He knows he has you were he wants you, but a part of him screams that you need to be punish.

"Should I cut the air your brain is getting and see if a little re start brings your intelligent self back?" He whispers over your lips as his grips turns harder and his finger faster.

Your foggy brain does register the danger and you are quick to say no, he urges you to continue talking.

"I was joking. I wanted to see your reaction if I did not say it back. Im sorry if I hurt your feelings" Tears forms, not from the pain but from the pleasure his finger is giving you, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

The Salesmab smirks at that. He kisses away your tears and gives you a sweet kiss as he lets go of your neck. At the same time he removes his finger form you sucking it clean keeping a intense eye contact as he does.

"Good girl, thats my lovely and intelligent wife" He says giving you another kiss, letting you prove yourself on his lips. But just as you were going to ask for permission he puts himself away from you.

"Keep the same clothes. Dont leave the house today and, you better wait for me on that needy state of you. If you touch yourself, I will know and Love you wont like what I will do, I promise you that"

He turns taking his briefcase back and looking at you over his shoulder.

"I love you my Love" He says once again starting to leave

"I love you too Dear, have a good day at work" You manage to say without suttering.

"Thanks Love, there is cream in the bathroom for your neck" He says before finally leaving the aparment.

Would he have choke you till you passed out ? Defenetly. Its a good thing you are a fast learner.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game imagine #squid game x reader #the salesman x reader #salesman x reader #recruiter x reader

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azsazz · 14 hours ago

Text

Over Ice (Part 10)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Drinking

Word Count: 3517

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Well…” Rhys trails off from over your shoulder. You don’t think your muscles could coil any tighter, didn’t think your cheeks could flare any hotter as you stared down at the returned quiz in your hands. Then Rhys appeared behind you after speaking with your professor. Not even the heat of his body nor the breath of his soft breathing can distract you from the paper. “It’s not an F.”

“It certainly isn’t an A,” you respond, glaring so hard at the red circle with the D+ scrawled in the middle. You’re focusing as much attention on making the paper burst into flames as you are trying to keep the prickling behind your eyes from turning into something more.

“I think aiming for an A was a bit ambitious to begin with,” Rhys says gently. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sense your utter disappointment, with your head hung low and the defeated slump to your shoulders. He has an urge to eat the space between you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and let you lean into him, to comfort you. He wants to see you smile, even glare at him, because anything is better than seeing you this downtrodden.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, shoving the paper into the fold of your binder before slamming it shut. The soft thud it makes does nothing to expel your annoyance, and you almost bare your teeth at the damn thing as you stuff it in your bag. “You’re like a dictionary for all things psychology.”

Rhys follows you from the hall. At least this was your last class before the weekend. You can shove any and all things psychology from your mind and focus on what’s much more important tonight, Gwyn’s birthday.

He holds the door to the lecture hall open and you dodge students entering for the class following yours. You catch the looks people shoot Rhys’ way. Apparently, he’s well-known. You see girls ogle him, guys nod in his direction as he passes like he’s some sort of celebrity or something. It’s almost laughable, how someone on a sports team could be so valued across a campus. And he’s not even on the football team, which you find even more impressive, since your school lives and breathes Bats football. Hockey is a close second, with women’s soccer a shocking close third for student events.

You suppose that any sporting event where people can get shit faced and scream nonsense in a large crowd would be appealing to most.

“Come on,” Rhys says. “You really didn’t do that bad.”

You shoot him a look.

“Rhys. Were we looking at the same quiz back there? Because all I saw was a big, fat D.”

He carefully folds his bottom lip between his teeth and amusement swimming to life in those heart-stopping violet eyes of his. He refrains from cracking a joke about how there could be another big, fat, D in your future, if you ask nicely. It takes superhuman effort to keep the comment to himself.

Still, you notice, and smack him playfully on the arm. “Gross.”

He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to,” you reprimand. You turn your head away from him, acting like you’re searching for something across campus. If he catches the way your cheeks flush from whatever he may have been thinking, he politely refrains from pointing it out.

“I studied so hard, Rhys,” you complain, grasping the straps of your backpack tighter. “I’m actually doomed.”

“You’re not doomed,” Rhys refutes. His arm brushes against yours as you walk and every time you remind yourself that someone could see you, you shift an inch over. “We’re going to have to work harder, that’s all.” Rhys doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re trying to create space. It’s like there’s a magnetic field drawing him into you, and within a few feet, you’re walking on the edge of the sidewalk.

And the thing is, you are trying really hard. You don’t know how much more effort you have, and there’s only a month and a half until finals. By your calculations, you’ll have to get Bs on every assignment, quiz, and test until the end of the year if you want to pass.

That sounds impossible.

“How about Saturday night? You can come over to mine after the game and we can study together.”

You can’t, even though you kind of want to see what the hockey house is like when there aren’t a thousand people stuffed into the interior. You want to see what Rhys’ room looks like. If word makes its way back to Mor, you’ll be totally and completely fucked. She’s your best friend and you’d like to keep your relationship with her. You’d be a terrible friend if you didn’t.

At your apprehension, Rhys continues. “Mor won’t find out, and if she does, all you have to do is tell her the truth. That I’m your tutor.” Fake boyfriend goes unsaid, and that’s the part you’re worried about.

Worried about it because you think you’re starting to like being Rhys’ fake girlfriend. The soft touches when Amarantha around feel good, an arm around your shoulder, the warm looks he sends you from the ice, like he’s still thinking about you when he’s deep in a game. And that kiss…you’re starting to get why his reputation is the way it is. His lips are sinful.

“I’m hoping I’ll be curing a hangover with greasy pizza or a juicy burger.” It’s a poor excuse, an even worse attempt at deflection.

Rhys quirks a brow. “From your little wine night?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn down the block to your dorm. It’s now you realize that Rhys is taking the time to walk you home. He mustn’t have much to do for the party tonight, despite the extravaganza being hosted at his house. It must be nice to have teammates pulling their weight.

Gwyn doesn’t get out of her last class until six thirty, which gives you and Mor almost two hours to pull out all of the decorations you’ve been stockpiling in the back of your closet, and pick up the cake from the local bakery. You don’t have to worry about getting the drinks for later, Gwyn was so excited to finally turn twenty-one and wanted to purchase the alcohol now that she’s officially legal. You and Mor pitched in, sending her off this morning with a pancake breakfast and cash for the alcohol. You can’t wait to pop open a bottle after the long day you’ve had.

“I’ll have you know that wine drunk is way better than vodka drunk,” you wrinkle your nose, “And it’s much better than getting drunk off of Cassian’s skunk punch. Seriously, what the hell is even in that?” You shudder at the memory. “Why is it even called skunk punch?”

Rhys grimaces, especially when he remembers that there will be no escaping Cassian’s concoction of basically every alcohol he can find and afford that night. It’s somehow even worse than a bar mat shot. As part of the tradition, everyone on the team must take at least one skunk punch shot, and he’s not looking forward to it.

“Trust me, it’s better not to know the answer to either of those questions.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you agree.

You and Rhys stop just outside your building. He stares at you like he doesn’t want this moment to end, and neither do you. There’s a betraying thought in your mind that says you should roll up onto the tips of your toes and press your mouth against his, that he wouldn’t push you away. That his hands would wind around you to pull you even closer, that his fingers would thread through your hair like they did that night and guide your head like they might have if no one interrupted your kiss—

“Well, this is me,” you say, and curse yourself for being so awkward. Truthfully, you have no idea what to say, how to act when your heart is pounding in your chest with the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes flit to the building and back. “Are you sure you can’t want to make an appearance at my party tonight?” Rhys asks. “Just in case she shows up, of course.”

Right. In case Amarantha shows face.

He wants you to come even if his ex doesn’t show up. Hell, he’s praying that she doesn’t show up. Rhys just isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. The short amount of time he’s seen you today—walking you from your class to your dorm—hasn’t been enough.

You shake your head and he tries his best to mask the deflation of his shoulders. It’s not just any wine night; it’s your roommate’s birthday. If it wasn’t such an important event, or Gwyn didn’t despise hockey so much, you’d consider trying to convince her into going. “I really can’t tonight. It’s Gwyn’s birthday, remember?”

“Of course,” Rhys offers you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s polite. Awkward. “I’ll see you Saturday night at the game, right? And we’ll study after.”

“Sure you won’t have another party to attend after the big game, Mr. Hotshot?” you tease, and a true smile threatens to crack his face.

“There is one, but one of my other teammates is hosting,” he teases back. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Your stomach flips at his words. All alone with Rhys? At his house?

To study, you reprimand yourself, though you can think of a million other things you’d like to be studying instead of psychology. Anatomy, for one.

“Yeah,” you swallow the butterflies trying to escape up your windpipe. You step away from him, needing the space before you do or say something you shouldn’t. You turn toward the door, continuing over your shoulder. “See you Saturday.”

“He even had a drawing!” Gwyn exclaims, and the three of you burst into another fit of the combination of the night: laughter and tears. Laughing so hard that you can’t help the droplets that squeeze from the corners of your eyes.

Her cheeks are almost as red as the wine in her glass. Or, was in her glass. How did she down her cup that fast? Your cup is still half-full. You glance at Mor, who’s in the middle of capturing a video of the drunk birthday girl who sloppily sticks her fork into the cake the three of you have been picking at all night. She ends up with frosting on her nose and the sight of your quietest roommate having the time of her life is so endearing that you’ve barely even thought about the party Rhys is at.

“No way,” Mor refutes, shutting her phone off and taking a big gulp of her wine. She’s in a maroon tank top and sleep shorts with her fuzzy platform slippers on her feet. They’re shaped like teddy bears, and one keeps staring at you where she taps her toes to the rhythm of the music pouring from the speaker on the kitchen counter.

Gwyn’s auburn hair pops against the white t-shirt she has on. There’s an emerald logo of the local bookstore on the front and a smear of blue icing beside it. A drop of wine down the center. It’s been a night for the birthday girl, and you’re having the time of your life.

“I swear! I know I’m a writer but I’m in no way that creative,” Gwyn insists, waving her fork around. A dot of icing goes flying toward the couch and lands on Mor’s cheek, causing another round of roaring laughter.

Gwyn had been telling a story about how someone in her creative writing class wrote the most ridiculous line she’s ever heard. Watery bowels. You can’t stop thinking about it, and every time you do, it causes another wave of cackles to sound.

Mor swipes the frosting from her face and licks it off her finger. You’re about to reach for your abandoned fork when your phone buzzes next to your socked foot.

You’re thankful for the alcohol warming your skin, because you’re full-on blushing and grinning so hard your cheeks hurt at the name that appears.

Rhys: Bored yet?

He’s been bothering you all night. This is the fourth time he’s asked you this. He wants you to try and convince your roommates to go over to their house and join in on the festivities, but you told him that you were having too much fun. He then tried to score an invite to your dorm, saying that it can’t be that much fun and to prove it if it was.

You replied with a video of you sending a picture of the mutilated cake, to which Rhys sent whining emojis in response.

You: Not quite.

Rhys: Is there still cake left? I’m famished.

You squint because the words are a little hazy with the amount of wine you’ve drank tonight. You almost jump out of your seat when the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with Rhys’ call.

You scramble to hide the screen, making sure that neither of your roommates saw. Thankfully, they’re both occupied with something on Mor’s phone, eyes wide as they try and comprehend what they’re looking at.

You want to answer, you do. You miss Rhys even though you’ve seen him a few hours ago. You wonder what he’s wearing, if those violet eyes are glossed with drink like yours are.

When you stand with the intention of slipping somewhere private to answer Rhys’ call, Mor takes notice.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you answer almost too quickly, and stride for the door.

“Hello?” You answer, hitting the light switch with your elbow and flicking the lock shut behind you.

“Hi,” Rhys greets, and your smile breaks your face.

It’s loud at the house he’s at, but the background noise of partying students and loud music dims some as he finds somewhere quieter. Your heart flips in your chest at the thought of him abandoning a party to call you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, leaning back against the door.

“Calling you,” he answers like an ass. Typical.

“Yeah, I got that. But why? You know Mor is in the room with me, right?”

“Is she in the room with you?” Rhys prompts.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Where are you hiding?”

“Bathroom,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. The ugly cream color matches the rest of the rooms in your on-campus apartment, the ceramic flooring perpetually cold beneath your socked feet. The only ounce of color is in the shower curtain you and your roommates picked out on sale when you moved in, a teal number with swirls of gold and mint. It’s the same pattern you swear was on your grandmother’s sofa when you were young. “You?”

“My room,” Rhys says, and you try not to think too much about that. “I’d say I have about ten minutes before Cassian finds me and forces me to do a skunk shot with him, so if you hear the sound of a bear mixed with a screaming eagle, that’s him.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s okay, I only have a few minutes, too.”

“Yeah, how’s that going? You three aren’t lonely yet?”

“No,” you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “But clearly you are.”

Rhys hums noncommittally. “So what if I am?”

The fluorescent lights are burning your eyes and you blink blearily, wondering if you just heard what you think you did. You curse yourself for forgetting your glass in the spot you abandoned to eagerly answer his phone call, because your throat has suddenly dried up. You wonder how unladylike you’ll sound if you decided to stick your head under the faucet.

“I would tell you that there’s a million girls just downstairs to keep you company,” you say, but you don’t really mean it. In fact, the wine in your stomach sours when the words come up.

“Maybe,” Rhys says, and you can picture him shrugging those broad shoulders of his. The very ones you want to kick your legs over with his head between your thighs. Fuck, you can’t be thinking like this. “But none of them are my lucky charm.”

His lucky charm? You’re his lucky charm? You can’t say that you’re upset with the sentiment, even if it’s not true. He’s drinking, he’s just flirting, which is only going to make the hole you’re already slowly digging yourself even deeper, and you’re not all that sure you’d mind.

Mor’s laughter creeps under the door and you force yourself to change the subject. Focus.

“You know what? Maybe I need one of those good luck thingies,” you sit on the edge of the tub, reveling in the way the chilled porcelain cools your burning skin.

“Good luck thingies?” Rhys muses, and you wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he lying on his bed? Sitting at his desk? Pacing the room?

You startle back into yourself when Rhys calls your name. He sounds worried, and it’s flattering. You imagine the way he might be chewing his lip, that same hot, demanding mouth you want to feel on yours again.

The scalding heat in your cheeks reflects between your legs, your pussy pulsing with want. “You listening to me?”

“Huh?”

Beautiful laughter echoes through the line and steals your breath from your lungs.

“I asked ‘what good luck thingies?’”

Good luck thingies? You frown, racking your mind for the lost conversation. Oh! “You know, like…” you trail off, waving your hand flippantly as you grasp for answers. “Something that can help me ace the next test. Like how you claim I’m your good luck charm. I think James’ is listening to this one rap song from the nineties—”

Rhys grunts unhappily and you almost smile.

“Please don’t bring up Attor while we’re on the phone,” he all but groans. You stifle a giggle at his jealousy.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. Outside the door, your roommates begin chanting your name from the couch, their voices muffled. They’re asking for the third bottle of wine you stashed in the fridge to cool. “What do you think my good luck thingie should be?”

Rhys hums thoughtfully and the sound rumbles to your core. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to sound as arousing as it does. You clench your thighs together carefully.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Maybe you should come here and find out.”

Gods, does that sound perfect right now. You want to know exactly what he means by that, and when you open your mouth to respond, you’re cut off by a loud pounding on his side of the phone that makes you flinch. You wobble on your perch but manage to keep steady as you hear Cassian get into his room. Rhys curses about how he thought he locked the door.

“Bitch, why the fuck are you hiding?” Cassian bellows. “We need to take skunk shots, stat! The rest of the team is waiting!”

Rhys breathes your name over the line. “I have to go. Come over if you can, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything,” you whisper back, and the line goes dead.

You take a second to compose yourself, and exit the bathroom. Your roommates cheer when you pull the wine from the fridge and wave it around like you just won gold at the wine-retrieving event. You make a fake speech as you pour, and slowly, the FOMO trickles away.

“Ugh,” Mor groans, locking her screen and tossing it to the foot of the couch. She takes a sip of her wine and sighs dramatically. “My cousin and Cassian will not stop texting me! They’re so annoying!”

“Texting you about what?” Gwyn asks, gulping down her wine. You think she might need to stop soon, but you don’t want to kill her birthday buzz.

“Their dumb party. They keep telling me we should come over. I already told them that we’re busy!”

You watch Gwyn hum. There’s an idea churning behind those bright eyes of hers, but you have no idea what. It’s no secret that she despises hockey and everything to do with it for some reason, but you don’t know the story. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to spill on that quite yet, but her eyes do light up with mischief.

“I hate hockey and I don’t want to go to their party, but wouldn’t it be fun to prank them?”

Prank them? Coming from the girl who would never break a rule, not even something as silly as jaywalking.

“Prank them how?” You ask, sharing a confused look with Mor, who sits up on the couch and leans closer to your roommate.

“I don’t know,” Gwyn hiccups, and she looks funny with the over-dramatic way she masks on her innocence. “What if we stole that trophy they love so much?”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @w0nderw0manly @bbykaixx @marina468 @taechvita @marigold-morelli @esahintzkanen @miakxn @ssmay123 @webvics

#rhys acotar #rhysand/reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhysand x reader #acotar hockey au #over ice #hockey!bat boys #hockey!rhysand

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