#he said hi to rose in the morning and was nice to her but he didn't rush to her in fear half as much as everyone else

[starryevermore]

i will go to secret gardens in my mind ✧ tamlin

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pairing: tamlin x archeron!fem!reader

summary: you have always been a wallflower, but to tamlin, you are the finest rose in the garden. 

word count: 7,676

warnings?: angst with a happy ending, unrequited feelings, pining, multi pov, plot twist perchance??, not proofread 

The Spring Court had been rebuilt. What would have been a joyous occasion under any other circumstances, for perhaps any other court, left your family scowling as they looked over the invitation that landed on Rhysand’s desk this morning. An invitation to all courts—to come to Spring and celebrate the burgeoning court. No one, it seemed, wanted to go. It was understandable, of course. After everything that Spring’s High Lord, Tamlin, had put Feyre through—had put your entire family through—it almost felt like walking into a trap. But call you naïve, or perhaps a tad too optimistic for your own good, but you wanted to believe that Tamlin might have truly turned over a new leaf. Sometimes, it took someone losing everything to learn the value of all that they hold dear. No one wanted to go, it seemed, except for you.

Well, and Lucien, but he often fought in Tamlin’s corner. “Tamlin is a far cry from what you remember him as,” he said. “What he did to Feyre was horrible, but he’s trying to make amends. Isn’t the point of the Night Court to offer second chances?”

“We don’t owe that worm a second chance,” Nesta snarled, her eyes narrowing at Lucien. 

“It might be good for Feyre to close this chapter of her life,” Lucien continued. 

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Because you care so much about Feyre’s wellbeing. Remind me, what were you doing while she wasted away in that manor?”

“All I’m saying is, you should consider hearing him out. We all were troubled after Under the Mountain. His actions were, are, shameful, but that doesn’t mean he cannot regret what he did.”

You noticed the tension in Feyre’s shoulders and reached out, placing your hand on top of hers. “You don’t have to go. I just thought it might be fun. We haven’t just gone out in so long.”

Rhysand’s narrowed gaze turned on you. “Then we can go to Rita’s, or take a walk down the Sidra. Hell, I’m sure if we asked Tarquin, we could have a nice trip down to Summer if you’re wanting to go somewhere warm. We don’t have to go all the way to the damned Spring Court for fun.”

A sigh escaped your lips. You rose from your seat, turned to leave. “Forget I said anything.”

Feyre looked up at you. She said your name, standing to follow after you. “If you want to go—”

You waved her off. “It’s alright. I didn’t want to go that bad. I only thought it would be fun, but Rhys is right. We can do something else instead.”

She said your name again, but you ignored her. You understood why she of all people would be apprehensive of going to Spring. Trust and believe, you understood. Tamlin was hardly the most wonderful person in Prythian in your eyes. He let Feyre waste away, he sold you, Nesta, and Elain out to Hybern in a vain attempt to get Feyre back…At every turn, it seemed like he was dead set on humiliating her. But when it was all said and done, he still gave up a kernel of his power to bring back Rhysand. “Be happy, Feyre,” he’d said. It was nothing groundbreaking, it was not even close to an apology for all he’d done, but it seemed like a step in the right direction. 

As you retreated to your room, you didn’t have to look to know you were being followed. Ever since Elain had accepted the mating bond with Lucien, Azriel always trailed so close behind you, he was like a second shadow. When you reached your room, you left the door open, allowing him to slip inside. The door clicked shut behind him. 

You took a seat in the bay window, looking out over the city of Velaris. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

The cushion sank underneath Azriel’s weight. You moved over, avoiding your knees knocking into his. “I just want to know what’s going on in your mind.”

“Does it matter? Rhysand has made his decision clear.”

“Of course it matters. It matters to me.”

It should’ve tugged at your heartstrings to hear him say those words. But all you were reminded of was how Azriel pined after Elain for so long, and for Mor for centuries before that. You were all too aware that you were just the latest object of his affection. “I don’t know. I just…It feels like something is calling for me to go there. Something trying to tug me along until I finally cross over Spring’s border.”

When you spared Azriel a glance, you noted the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. “You should tell Rhys that. He might be more amenable.”

“Rhysand is hardly amenable to anything that isn’t already in his favor.” You shrugged. “It’s not as if I’m Elain, with some vision about why we need to go to Spring. I just…I don’t know. I have a feeling it’s somewhere I should be.”

Azriel looked you over. Perhaps he was trying to ascertain if you’ve lost your mind. And maybe you had. You could hardly explain the feeling, deep in your chest, that pulled you towards the Spring Court. The feeling only intensified when you learned of the invitation to come to Spring’s celebration. “I’ll talk to Rhys for you. He’s been wanting to forge alliances with the other courts. If he’s able to extend a hand to Spring, other courts might be willing to work with him.”

You shrugged again. “Do as you please.”

He reached for your hand. You allowed him to take it. At least you found a modicum of comfort in the gentle squeeze. Azriel’s mouth opened—to say what, you weren’t sure, for a knock sounded against your door. It opened shortly after, Feyre slipping inside. Her eyes fell to your joined hands. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. You pulled away. One of his shadows trailed after you.

“We’re going to Spring,” she said, smiling. But it didn’t reach her eyes. 

You stood up, crossing the room in a few strides, then took Feyre’s hands. “We don’t have to if it’ll cause you pain. I don’t mean to dredge up those terrible memories.”

“I am High Lady. I can set aside those feelings for one night, if it might end in an alliance that will benefit my people. Besides, Lucien might be right. It might do me some good to speak with Tamlin under better circumstances.”

“Are you sure?”

She offered you a smile. “I’m sure.” She squeezed your hands. “You haven’t asked for much since you’ve come here. The least I can do is give you this.”

You shook your head. “No, Feyre, you’ve already gave up so much for our family—”

“Hush. If I didn’t want to do it, you know I wouldn’t.”

“Fine. But the second you’re uncomfortable, we all leave, okay?”

Feyre nodded. “Okay.”

Rhysand was certainly giving you the cold shoulder since Feyre insisted that you all go to the Spring Court, but you could hardly find it in yourself to care. Not when you finally got to trade in the darkness of Night for the blossoming life of Spring. You couldn’t wait to finally leave Night’s borders. You couldn’t quite remember the last time you had the opportunity to leave, save for the war with Hybern. Other than that, though, you had bounced between Rhysand’s many homes, going to whichever place made you least likely to pick a fight with the High Lord. These days, that was primarily the House of Wind, since he had given it to Cassian and Nesta. That, of course, left you with even fewer chances to go out. If you didn’t have an Illyrian to fly you down, you would have to brave the 10,000 stairs. And you were no Valkyrie—you were sure you wouldn’t even make it down a few dozen before throwing in the towel. Of course, you were certain that Azriel would be more than pleased to be at your beck and call. 

After all, he sat on your bed now, watching as you rifled through your dresses, trying to pick something out to wear. 

“You look beautiful in anything,” he said. “Why are you putting so much effort into this?” A hidden question was on the tip of his tongue—Were you trying to impress someone? Perhaps him?

“My mother always said, when you go outside, you look your best because you never know what will happen.”

Azriel stood up, crossing over to your wardrobe. A scarred hand wrapped around yours, stopping you from flicking through the dresses. His voice was husky as he asked, “And what do you think will happen?” 

Your face grew warm. Even if you knew that he was only pursuing you because you were an Archeron, for a male to be so close to you…Well, it was easy to get you flustered. Stuck between Nesta’s vivaciousness and Elain’s sweetness, it was easy for you to fade into the background. When your family was better off, everyone flocked to Elain. After your family became rich again, Elain garnered so many men’s attention. Even Feyre, when your family was its lowest, found herself with someone, if just for the pursuit of pleasure. But you…You were a wallflower through and through. 

“Anything. Nothing,” you said. 

Your breath stilled as Azriel pulled a dress from your wardrobe. It was a beautiful blue tulle dress. Silver stars littered its entire body. There was a tasteful slit up one side. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, you knew there was a matching pair of long, sheer gloves. You had gotten it for Starfall, but found yourself tucking it away in favor of a simpler gown. It, however, wasn’t lost on you that its color complemented Azriel’s cobalt siphons well. 

“You should wear this,” he said. “In case something does happen.”

You found yourself nodding. 

A soft smile crossed his face. It took everything in you to not look away, lest you give him the wrong idea. You may have been a wallflower, but you were not a demure female. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

You nodded again. 

Azriel placed the dress in your hands. You expected him to leave, but he lingered still. His hand grasped yours, pulling it up to meet his lips. He made eye contact with you the entire time, hazel eyes twinkling, before he pulled away. 

When he was finally gone, a sigh escaped your lips. A part of you, you recognized, should have been delighted at Azriel’s attention. He was an attractive male. He had so many qualities that you admired—protective, loyal, kind. But anytime you looked at him, you were reminded of his past history with females. How he pined after Mor for centuries. How he fixated on Elain. In both cases, each made it clear in their own ways that it would never go further. And here you were, certain that you were sending clear signals that you were uninterested, and yet…There he remained. Where was Rhysand, telling him to leave you be? Could you only be left alone if you had a mate?

Perhaps it would be easier, you mused as you changed into the dress, if this tug in your chest was for Azriel. That, by going to Spring, something would happen that would make the bond snap for him. At least if he was your mate, you could convince him to get a home of your own, far away from the busybodies occupying the Inner Circle. At least you would finally feel free enough to breathe on your own. 

You spared a glance in the mirror, satisfied with your hair and makeup, before leaving your room. It shouldn’t have surprised you to see Azriel waiting on the other side of the door, shadows swirling around him. His face brightened as he saw you. An arm was extended toward you. You took it. 

“Beautiful, just as I expected.” Azriel smiled at you. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

All eyes were on the Inner Circle as you entered the manor, but you were too busy looking at everything else. Spring was…Mother, it was more beautiful than anything you had ever seen before. Not even Elain’s gardens held a candle to the beauty housed here. It was difficult to imagine how a Court so ethereal could have been in ruins just months before. It was easier, though, to see how Feyre could fall in love with this land. 

It was even easier, you mused, to fall in love with Spring’s High Lord as he stepped into the Inner Circle’s path. It was the first time you really got a good look at him. When you were taken, you hadn’t dared look at your captors. And when you came out of the Cauldron, you cried so hard you couldn’t see. But the male before you now…Wow. 

“Welcome,” he said, extending a hand to Rhysand. As Rhysand shook it, he turned to Feyre. “Thank you all for coming. I cannot imagine it was an easy decision to make.”

Feyre tilted her head in your direction. “Thank Lucien and my sister. It was their convincing arguments that brought us here.”

Tamlin’s emerald eyes fell to you. Something in your chest tugged harder, but you couldn’t dwell on it as Azriel took a subtle step in front of you. A charming smile passed across the High Lord’s lips. “Well, thank you, too,” he said. “And if I may, I must offer the utmost apologies for everything that transpired the last time our paths crossed. There is no excuse for my actions.”

You tried not to flinch at the mention of the Cauldron. The memory of being submerged as a human, reemerging as a fae…How everything was so different, too intense. It was, perhaps, the darkest part of your life thus far. You prayed it was never so dark again. “It wasn’t all bad,” you found yourself saying. “At least now I can live a long life with my sisters.”

“That is a generous way to think about it,” Tamlin said. He took a step toward you, a hand outstretched. His eyes flicked to Azriel as a growl escaped the Spymaster. Still, he reached for your hand. When you slipped it into his, he lifted it toward his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Something, something akin to joy, swirled inside of you. A tendril of a shadow pulled your hand from Tamlin’s. “Would you be so kind as to share a dance with me?”

“I—” The Inner Circle tensed around you, though you caught Lucien rolling his eyes at their antics. A dance didn’t seem so horrible, but you hated the way Feyre looked so uncomfortable at the prospect. You wished you were a daemati and could see what she was thinking. “Perhaps later. I should like to spend some time mingling.”

Tamlin seemed disappointed, but he still smiled as he said, “Of course. Have fun.”

He nodded at Feyre and Rhysand before disappearing into the crowd. 

“It was like he disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Y/N,” Mor remarked, plucking a glass from a passing waiter’s tray. 

“Don’t,” Feyre warned. She looked at you, her eyes wide with worry. “Don’t fall for his charms. Dance with him if you so wish. But…I don’t know how much I believed him to have changed.” 

“I won’t. I haven’t forgotten what he’s done to you. It will take more than charming smiles and offers for dances to win me over,” you said, turning away from her. Your heart clenched at her distrust. Well, perhaps it wasn’t distrust. To be here, to be in Spring again, must have been extraordinarily difficult for her. But you were her sister. You knew her struggles, her pain, better than most. You weren’t going to throw all that away because Tamlin was kind to you. You weren’t that sort of female. 

A scarred hand caught your wrist before you could slip away into the crowd, perhaps find a nice corner to hide in and people watch. “Would you? Like to dance?” Azriel asked. 

“I see Kallias and Viviane. I would like to say hello.”

You could feel the Inner Circle’s eyes on you as you disappeared into the throng of fae. Though you were no daemati, you could practically hear their collective thoughts: You would be better off with Azriel. But what did they know about you?

Coming here was a mistake. You’d decided so hours ago as you could see various members of the Inner Circle keeping tabs on you from the corner of your eye. Despite hardly making a move from the corner you resided in, save for trips to the refreshment table or conversations with the few friends you had made from other courts, they still hovered. You wondered if it was under Rhysand’s orders, or perhaps Feyre’s. To make sure you didn’t slip away to dance with Tamlin, become the next pretty thing trapped in his gilded cage. 

You sucked your tongue against your teeth as you watched Azriel approach you from across the room, Nesta and Cassian slipping off onto the dance floor. The changing of the guards. Your eyes rolled. Of everyone, Azriel’s presence was the worst. While the others would linger, he would stay by your side, trying to coax conversations out of you or pull you over for a dance. It might have been sweet if you weren’t all too aware that it was a vain effort to keep you from Tamlin. And unlike the others, who would have been merely following orders from the High Lady and Lord, Azriel had his own ulterior motives. 

When you lost sight of Azriel, dancing couples blocking each other’s view of the other, you took the opportunity to slide out a nearby door and into the hall. They would be furious to learn you left—especially when it was because of you that they were even here. But you couldn’t handle the hovering any longer. 

The music from the ballroom soon faded into the background as you walked down the hall, searching for some sanctuary. There were groups of fae lingering around the hallway, but none paid you any mind. It was refreshing, if you were being honest. They had no idea who you were, who your sisters were, of what they had done to save Prythian (or doom this court). You smiled at one couple, wrapped up in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of all that happened around them. 

You spied an open door and slipped inside. It was far smaller than the ballroom, but still grand. Paintings hung along the walls—a few you recognized to be in Feyre’s style. The thing that caught your eye, though, was the handsome piano in the middle of the room. A smile tugged at your lips. It had been so long since you’d had a chance to play. During your family’s dark years, you of course didn’t have access to any instruments, much less one so expensive. When you arrived in Velaris, straight out of the Cauldron, you had clung to the instrument, letting all of your pain flow out of you until there was nothing left. These days, though, you had strayed away.

You took a seat at the bench and ran your fingers along the ivory keys. You tested a few notes to see if it was still in key, but you didn’t make it very far. 

“Do you play?”

Tamlin stood in the doorframe, watching you curiously. Panic settled in your chest. If the Inner Circle, if Feyre, found out that you were alone with Spring’s High Lord, you knew they would be less than pleased. But that tug in your chest—it pulled harder than it ever had before, and that brought you an odd sort of comfort. 

“Yes.”

“May I hear you play something?”

You eyed him, trying to ascertain if this was some trick. As much as you wanted to believe your family was being overdramatic, you did wonder if they knew something you didn’t. When you sensed no ill motives, you gave a nod. 

As you pressed down on the keys, it felt like everything melted away around you. There was no inter-court politics to be wary of. No Shadowsingers following close on your heels. No sisters whose heart would surely break if she knew you were letting him in. Just you and the music that flowed out. 

“That was beautiful,” he said as the final note rang through the room. He took a few steps closer to you. Tamlin extended a hand. “I wish, though, that I could still hear it while we danced. If you would like to, that is.”

You stared at his outstretched hand. 

“Just say the word if you don’t wish to. I know you didn’t dance out there, but I thought, perhaps, without all those eagle eyes watching you—”

You took his hand. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“That’s alright. Neither am I.”

Tamlin was a right liar, he was. As he spun you around the room, you clumsily just missing his feet, you knew he was a liar. But the awkward dance made you laugh, harder than you had in a long time. The tug in your chest pulled more than it ever had before. 

“If this is you at your worst, I would hate to see how skilled you would be after a few lessons,” you teased. 

“We could take lessons together,” Tamlin suggested. The thought made your smile grow, though you weren’t entirely sure why. “Maybe after tonight, your High Lord will let you visit more often.”

“Perhaps—” you began to say. 

“That will never happen.”

Shadows swirled around you, tugging you out of Tamlin’s arms. You gasped, a chill running down your spine. Large wings kept Tamlin out of your view. When you tried to look around Azriel, his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you in place. 

“Did he do something to you?” Azriel asked. 

“What? No!”

“You just disappeared. Everyone’s in a panic. Feyre looked ready to kill, Nesta ready to hide the body. We didn’t know what happened to you. We didn’t know if you were hurt or—” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Tamlin. “—or worse.”

“I’m fine! I’m not some damsel in distress—”

“Of course not. But you have to understand—”

“No! You have to understand that you are not my knight in shining armor, Azriel! I am not so stupid to just waltz headfirst into danger. If I ever found myself in such a position, I would have screamed or called out for Rhysand and prayed he was listening. I do not need saving, especially not—” You caught Tamlin’s eye over Azriel’s shoulder. Something snapped into place, a golden thread tying you to him. “—especially not with my mate.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed. Hurt, maybe? Or anger? “He can’t be—”

“He is. He is the reason I felt the calling to come to Spring, Az. He’s my mate, and you have to respect that.”

Behind you, you heard a flurry of footsteps as the room quickly filled. Your eyes squeezed shut. Fuck. Was it not enough to have to deal with Azriel? Did everyone else have to come, too? 

Feyre’s voice rang through the room. “Y/N, come here, please.”

“I should be allowed to make the choice to come, shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what the Night Court is all about?” You looked at her, a solitary tear dropping down your face. “What? Are choices not allowed when it goes against your wishes?”

“Please,” she repeated, her hand reaching out for you. 

Tamlin stepped around Azriel, stood by your side. “I would not hurt her, Feyre. I have given you every reason to distrust me, to hate me, but I wouldn’t do anything to her.”

Feyre closed the distance between the two of you, Rhysand hot on her heels. She snarled at Tamlin, “I have every reason to not believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

“I understand—”

Her finger jabbed at his chest. “Don’t. Don’t you dare give me any honeyed words or false promises about how Y/N—my sister—being your mate changes things. A skunk still stinks even when it hasn’t sprayed.”

“Feyre, please, can’t we just talk this through—” you tried. This was going horribly wrong. You hadn’t imagined any of this would happen just by following the tugging in your chest. A mate, you might have suspected. But all of this—

Her head snapped toward you. Her eyes glazed over as Rhysand spoke into her mind. When they cleared, she spoke with the authority of a High Lady but with none of the love of a sister.“You said we could leave if I became uncomfortable. I would like to leave,” Feyre said. “Rhys, please, get her out of here.”

Rhysand’s hands were on you, winnowing you away, before you could even dare to make your protests. But you didn’t miss the pain in Tamlin’s beautiful emerald eyes. 

Feyre had made a terrible mistake. Since that horrible, awful ball, you were moved into the River House so she and Rhys could keep an eye on you. While you might not have been able to leave the House of Wind without an Illyrian to fly you down or otherwise brave the 10,000 steps, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to go. At least here, they could make sure you remained in place. Anyone who wished to see you, save for Spring’s Cauldron damned High Lord, could. They just needed to make are that something horrible wouldn’t happen. 

But you hadn’t left your room in weeks. They would send food up to you, but would find only small bites taken out of it when they came for the next meal. You had said scarcely a single word. The only time you would move from your bed was to take a bath, where you would sit for hours still. Once, Feyre had gone to check on you, to make sure that you hadn’t hurt yourself, and found you staring at the bubbled water, unblinking. You hadn’t even realized she was there.

The only person you seemed to respond to was Azriel. He would go to your room, crawl in your bed, and play with your hair. Sometimes, Feyre would linger in the doorway, watching you and him. Azriel would talk to you, try and convince you to leave your room. You would only cry.

And now, Feyre paced the length of Rhys’s office, chewing on the corner of a fingernail. Rhys sat at his desk, his face leaned against his palm. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to make this better. She, she’s wasting away in there.”

Rhys let out a sigh. “There is an obvious solution to the problem, though not the preferred one.”

Feyre spun on her heel, narrowing her eyes at her mate. “You know perfectly well that I can’t just let her be with Tamlin. It would be safer sending her into a viper’s den.”

He rose and crossed the room, took her hands in his own. “You don’t mean that. You and Tamlin were not right for each other, especially after everything that happened Under the Mountain. You no longer wanted the same things as him. Was his actions wrongful? Of course. He could have tried to help you, but you also pushed him away. It was doomed from the start.”

“And I should let her go into a doomed relationship with him?” Feyre poked her finger at Rhys’s chest. “She is too good for that. She deserves a better mate.”

“I agree. But the Mother found reason to bind their souls together. You once thought I was something straight out of a nightmare, but look how far we’ve come.”

“I recall you hating Tamlin for everything he did to me.”

“And I do. I still do.” A sigh escaped Rhys’s lips. “But I also look at Y/N and remember having to leave you behind in Spring. I remember collapsing in Mor’s arms, begging for just a chance with you. I was a shell of myself then. I worry that if we keep them apart, we’ll lose her either way.”

Feyre turned away. She looked toward the door. For a flicker of a moment, she wished she could go back to that horrible cottage, when she was still a human. Even if survival was a struggle at best, she didn’t have to worry about your sweet soul being taken advantage of. 

“Send a letter to Tamlin,” she finally said. “Tell him he is welcome to come here. If Y/N so wishes to leave with him, she may. But make clear, if a single hair on her head is harmed, if we receive a single word that she is being treated as anything less than what she deserves, it will constitute an act of war.” 

Tamlin stared up at the River House. He had moved faster than he had ever moved before when the invitation to come to the Night Court was extended. So fast, he realized with a glance at his feet, he forgot to put on shoes before winnowing away. He hoped you wouldn’t mind. Ever since Rhysand had winnowed you out from under his nose, he had been a mess. If Tamlin thought losing Feyre was him at his lowest, it paled in comparison to losing you. Worse yet, he had the previous experience to know he couldn’t give into his desperate impulses and expect everything to go smoothly. No, he had to tread carefully. 

Still, he found himself sending you letters over the last few weeks. Tamlin never received a response, but he never expected one. He wasn’t sure how well you were being surveilled, if the Inner Circle were taking active steps to keep you from contacting him. But he hoped his words brought you some modicum of comfort. 

The door swung open before he had a chance to knock. Rhysand looked him over. “You didn’t have time to at least make yourself presentable?”

“I thought if I took too much time, the invitation would be rescinded.”

Rhysand’s brow raised. “I wasn’t aware you could have such intelligent thoughts. You know, since you had sided with Hybern so readily in the beginning.”

Tamlin bit back a snarl. It would not end well to pick a fight with Night’s High Lord. He knew good and well he was out-powered, and he was sure that Feyre’s threat should also extend to any threat her own mate faced. Instead, he said as diplomatically as he could manage, “It was a terrible mistake, but one I would make again if it would give me a chance to live a long life with my mate, should she so have me.”

Feyre appeared, pushing Rhysand out of the doorway. She, too, scrutinized his appearance, nose wrinkling at the sight of him, but at least had the courtesy to say nothing about it. “You came quickly.”

Somewhere in the distance, Tamlin could hear Cassian chortle and mutter something about “that’s what she said.” 

“I did not know how long this invitation of hospitality might remain open.” Tamlin searched Feyre’s eyes, searching for a sign of your wellbeing. “Is she alright?”

Tamlin watched as Feyre swallowed, her hands subtly shaking. She had always cared deeply about her sisters, perhaps you more than Nesta or Elain. Where Nesta could hold her own and Elain was sweet enough to charm any potential suitor, she worried that you were too quiet for your own good. Too willing to slip into the shadows and be forgotten. 

“She has hardly eaten since that night. We…We have fixed dinner. We thought she might be more amenable if you brought a plate to her room?”

“Of course, of course,” Tamlin said. Feyre moved out of the threshold, motioning for him to step inside. He did. “Has she…?”

“She hasn’t said a word. She just sits and stares. I thought females were able to suppress the bond. I don’t understand why she is so afflicted.”

Tamlin suppressed an eye roll. He had to play nice, at least until he could see you again. Until he could find out if you wished to be his mate. “You took her choice away, Feyre,” he bit out, weighing his words carefully. “Anyone would be heartbroken by such a betrayal. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Rhysand snarled, but Tamlin ignored him. He maintained eye contract with Feyre until she looked away, gesturing to the dining room. “Take a plate to her room. Just up the stairs, third door on the right.”

He gave a curt nod and did as directed. Every step weighed him down. Tamlin was grateful, at least, for the plate in his hand, to distract him from the sinking feeling in his chest. Neither you nor him had closed off the bond. Tamlin felt every bit of your anguish and he had done everything he could to send comfort down the bond. Every day, he prayed to the Mother that it helped you. Now, as he stood on the other side of your door, he wasn’t sure it did.

The door was ever so slightly ajar. Tamlin pushed it open. The sight nearly made him fall to his knees. You were laying in bed, back to him, staring out the large window overlooking the gardens. If it wasn’t for a subtle rise and fall of your chest, he might have thought you dead. Tamlin stepped inside, walking around your bed, until he faced you. He set the plate on your nightstand and knelt in front of you. 

“Have my dreams begun to torment me, too?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“No,” Tamlin whispered back. He reached out, cupping your face in his hand. His thumb run over the swell of your cheek. “I am here. I am real. Feyre allowed me to come.”

“I cannot even trust my subconscious now,” you said. You rolled over onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. Your comforter moved with you, revealing the papers you kept clutched against your chest. Your eyes fell shut. 

Tamlin sat on the edge of your bed. He reached over and brushed your hair from your face. “Open your eyes, please. I am here. Feyre had Rhysand send me a letter, inviting me here. I can show you if you like?”

An eye opened. “I doubt you could. Everyone knows that written word in dreams hardly makes sense.”

He pulled the letter tucked away in his pocket. Carefully unfolding it, he pressed it into your hands. Your other eye opened. Slowly, you sat up, dropping the other letters—his letters—from your grip. Your eyes scanned over the page, once, twice, three times. Slowly, you looked up, as if seeing him for the first time. 

“You’re here?”

“I am.”

“Feyre allowed it?”

“She did.”

Your hand moved to your mouth. You chewed on your thumbnail. “She would hate me if I left.”

“She would not. And, even if she did, that is her burden to bear. Feyre cannot keep you sheltered here anymore than I could her.” Tamlin grabbed the plate and held it out to you. “Could you eat first, before we talk about this? Please?”

You stared at the plate for a long, silent more. Tamlin nearly thought you hadn’t heard him. He was ready to ask again, the words on the tip of his tongue, when you looked up at him. “Could we go to the gardens to eat?” 

“Of course.” 

Tamlin extended a hand to you. You slipped yours into his grasp. Joy soured through him. He bit back his smile as he helped you to your feet. His hands were quick to move to your waist, steadying you as you swayed. How long had you been laying there, in that bed? Had you even left it? A part of him, a territorial part he worked hard to keep at bay, had half a mind to scold Feyre for waiting this long. He, of course, would be a hypocrite if he did. But you also deserved someone in your corner. 

Slowly, the two of you moved out of your room and down the stairs. At the creak in the wooden steps, all conversation in the dining room ceased. There was a scrape of a chair. Feyre appeared in the doorway as you reached the bottom step. You didn’t make eye contact with your sister as you turned for the exit. 

“Y/N wished to eat in the gardens,” Tamlin said and followed after you. He did not wait for Feyre’s response. 

You stared at Tamlin, chewing on the bread that Elain had made. He made no protest when you plopped yourself on the dirt path. He only sat across from you and watched as you slowly ate your food. It nearly made you sick, if you were honest. You hadn’t experienced this level of hunger since you were human. You remembered when Feyre would bring food home, how you would have to eat slowly so you wouldn’t vomit it all up. There was something about such extreme hunger that it almost felt like food couldn’t save you from the gnawing pain. 

“I still do not quite believe you’re really here,” you said. 

“I can promise you, I am.” Tamlin reached for your hand, and you allowed him to take it. His thumb stroked over your knuckles. “I have missed you. If I wasn’t concerned that an unprompted arrival would have waged a war no court could surely handle, I would have come sooner.”

“It was not right what they did…” You trailed off. 

Tamlin’s emerald green eyes twinkled with curiosity. “But?” he prompted. 

“I am not sure I can find it in my heart to leave them,” you said. His face dropped. His hand started to pull away, but you tightened your grip. “Feyre and Nesta are still here. While Feyre may have given the order to take me away, she is my sister. She sacrificed so much for our family. I feel like I would be throwing it all back in her face to go to Spring with you. At least when Elain left, she was going with Lucien to Day. People she could trust, you know. I worry that if I leave with you, she would never see me again.”

He straightened. “I would never keep you from your sister. Any of them. I have done little to prove such, but I have learned from my mistakes with Feyre. I have grown, am still growing, from them.”

“Not because of you,” you corrected. “You know how she feels about you. Even if I extend an invitation to her, she still may never come. And she may never extend one back. I could never forgive myself if I damaged our relationship so.”

Tamlin’s eyes searched yours. For what, you couldn’t be certain. 

“If she does so, she would be the one to damage the relationship. I have hurt her greatly, I understand. But, if she chooses to plant herself between you and I, that is her choice to make and her consequences to bear.” He reached over, cradling your face in his hand. “You are a grown female. If this is a mistake of its own, then it is your mistake to make. She cannot keep you here any better than I tried to keep her in Spring.”

You looked away. You pushed the plate away and began to rise. Tamlin followed after you. As you began to walk down the path, he trailed after you. He kept a distance between you, far enough that he wasn’t on your heels but close enough that he could be at your side in a few long strides. 

In your heart, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal, no matter how hard you tried. After everything Feyre has done, after all she has suffered, staying with her was the least you could do. Yet, why would you sacrifice your happiness for hers when she was so quick to rip it from you without even listening to what you had to say? You could not yet forget  the cold look in her eyes as she ordered Rhysand to winnow you away. She was not your sister then. She was anything but. 

“Come to Spring,” Tamlin said from behind you. You paused in your step. You did not turn, but you listened. “It does not have to be permanent. Come to Spring, see if this is worth it. If you decide that it is not, then I will not stop you from returning here. I will respect whatever choice you make, but I would appreciate it if you could give us a fair shot. That is all I ask of you, I swear it.”

You turned. You looked past Tamlin at the River House. You were certain that Feyre and Rhysand were trying to listen in on the conversation. You were sure they were waiting for your answer. But, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what they thought. After all, they hadn’t cared to ask if you even wanted Tamlin as a mate. 

“One chance,” you said. “One chance, and if I decide to that I would rather a relationship with Feyre, you must not follow.”

“I promise, whatever you decide in the end, I shall respect it.”

Feyre watched as you gripped Tamlin’s arm, an apologetic smile on your lips. She had a million things she wished to say to you—a hundred warnings, a few hundred thousand promises to have her door open to you if you ever want to come back, and an acceptance to the offer to visit Spring in a month’s time. Instead of saying any of those things, she mouthed a goodbye while Tamlin winnowed you away. 

Rhys’s hand fell to her shoulders, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. Somewhere in the distance, she could see Nesta and Cassian hovering. Elain and Lucien busied themselves with clearing the dishes. 

“She’ll be alright,” Rhys said. “He is not so stupid as to make the same mistakes again.”

Feyre hummed. “Is this where you say it's different with mates?”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen too many awful mated couples to say that with any ounce of sincerity. But, I will say, he does seem different with her.”

“And if he isn’t,” Nesta said, stepping toward her, “he will pay tenfold for any pain he causes her.”

Feyre nearly laughed as she watched Cassian nod enthusiastically to Nesta’s threat as he bounced Nyx on his hip. She could only hope that you knew how protected you were—that you had the entirety of the Night Court to support you should trouble ever make its way to you. But any laughter she had, any words she wanted to say, died in her throat as shadows flooded the River House. 

Azriel. 

Shit. Rhys had sent him off on a mission a few days prior. Azriel had been reluctant to go—one of the few times she was certain that Azriel would fight her mate to the death on an issue. But it was Feyre’s promise to keep you safe in the River House that gave him leave to go. She had forgotten that when she had the letter sent to Tamlin, when she bid you goodbye. You were gone now and, worse, you hadn’t said goodbye to him. 

“Where. Is. She.”

Feyre turned, looking at Azriel’s towering form darkening the doorway. His wings were flared out behind him, beating furiously as his shadows continued to search the home for any sign of you.

“She has gone to Spring, with Tamlin.”

Azriel growled. His nostrils flared. The shadows began to swirl around Feyre. Rhys took a step in front of her, ready to block any attack sent her way. Would Azriel attack her? Why would he be so upset about not being able to say goodbye to you? She knew he pined after you, but she thought it was like Mor and Elain. Something one-sided. Had she missed something? 

“It was her choice, brother,” Rhys said. “We are welcome to visit her whenever we so please. If you would like, we can go now, just so you may have a chance to talk to her.”

“If I go to Spring, I’m bringing her straight here. This is where she belongs. Not with that swine of a High Lord.”

“She has every right to choose to be with her mate—”

“No!” Azriel snapped. “I am her mate!”

It felt like time froze. Everyone stared at the Shadowsinger. Even Elain and Lucien came out from the kitchen, concern about his antics. Feyre blinked. No, that couldn’t be. Tamlin was your mate. You had felt the bond with him, and he you. 

“Triads are a thing of legend,” Rhys said slowly. “They haven’t existed in millennia…Cauldron, no one has ever been sure they were ever truly real. You aren’t suggesting…”

“All I know is that the bond snapped when I found her crying after Nyx’s birth, so certain she’d lose her sister, brother-in-law, and nephew in one fell swoop that all three of you surviving overwhelmed her. It snapped as I held her, trying to reassure her that all was right. That no one would hurt her or her family.” Azriel took a step toward them, glowering. “You have sent my mate into a lion’s den. Lesser males have killed for lesser slights.”

“Azriel, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” Feyre tried. 

But he was already gone—wings rustling against the wind as he flew away. To where, she couldn’t say for certain. 

#tamlin imagine #tamlin x reader #tamlin x fem!reader #tamlin x female rader #tamlin x you #tamlin x y/n #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fan fiction #tamlin fanfic #tamlin fan fic #tamlin fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[jadeee]

Scaling Walls

Kento proposed before leaving for war. He said he'd be away for six months, but it's been a year.

— Author's Note — There's an alternate ending.

4.3k ⁎ depression, anxiety attacks, mentions of war @luneariaa @raevennsge @everything-minni

The Mad Maiden. It was an insult. Salt in the wound. A disgrace. Betrayal, disrepect, dishonor... but.. were they wrong?

You gazed out over the ledge and into the fog of the September sky. The air turned cold, yet it couldn't compare to the chill that seeped into your spine months ago. He wasn't one to make promises, so he desparately fought your attempts to extract an exact date from him. However, he stated that six months was the minimum for his departure. 

You're only a woman. You can't stop war. 

You remember how your throat tensed at the sound of him saying how long he'd be gone. 180 days, which was half a year without being next to him. Hearing his voice or holding his hand. Seeing him smile at your quips. Making you laugh with some ludicrous comment. How the corner of his lip would turn upward when he'd lean in during functions to whisper something the tabloids would have a field day with. It was nearly summer when he'd left. The world completed it's annual rotation around the sun without your lover's return. It was now fall... Your eyes watered. Your heart ached. Stomach churning at the, unfortunately, familiar abscence of his prescence.

"Princess..." the voice of your lady in waiting, Belinda, called from behind you. "Princess, please step back from the ledge."

 You glanced at her over your shoulder, "Don't insult me."

Her chest rose until it seemed her dress would burst. "I was only... I... forgive me."

Your nostrils flared slightly as you faced forward.

"Please... come inside. There's a chill and you've left your coat."

"Have you forgotten you're my help, not my mother?" you bit your tongue as you gazed out at the forest beyond. Your hands gripped the rail. The metal from your ring pressing into your flesh. The diamond still shined despite the beginning of the dull fall weather.

"... Leave."

The woman knelt, then turned to leave as requested. The breeze blew through the sheer fabric of your dress, which started to slip from your shoulders much like the others. Goosebumps pricked your skin but you felt nothing.

April 21st, 1905

"Hello, nice to meet you." your hand shook that of other royals. The room filled with onlookers who waited for this very moment. Your staff had taken special care of mending the wrinkles of your dress that morning. Tucking and pinning your hair this way and that. Adjusting diamonds until they shined ever so brightly, then polishing the ring. You twisted it round your finger as you walked toward the podium. It'd been nine months and he hadn't sent so much as a piece of string. 

The first few months were filled with letters, exchanging of small mementos and keepsakes.

Should we have a spring wedding? It could symbolize our new chapter as a married couple. What about colors? Should we have a traditional royal wedding? Oh God, the thought... Please help me decide... there's still the dress. Oh! Where should we honeymoon? 

All my love, 

An indecisive bride

You rested your hand at your side, then lifted your dress as the official helped you up to the platform. Maybe it was the tiny twists of flowers in the nearby vase that reminded you of his handwriting. The black ink from his last letter seemed to imprint itself in the walls of your mind.

I'm afraid things are not progressing as we would've hoped...yet, I'm eager to return to you, my beautiful wife. Yes, I know we're still engaged but it's true in my heart. You take up a lot of space there. As for the details, I'd much prefer to elope. Wouldn't you? I don't care for the details, as long as we're together. Although, if something isn't to your liking, do tell me so I can take care of it.

To my everything,

Kento

P.S.: I'd like to honeymoon somewhere warm and tropical.

A warm smile resided on your face as you stared at your hands. That was four months ago, during Christmas. Which you'd spent alone for the first time. Tears stung at your eyes, then someone in the crowd cleared their throat. You lifted your eyes to the crowd. As if you suddenly realized you were being watched and waited on. You held your head high, ensuring the crown wouldn't slip.

"Thank you to the King and Queen for my being here. I would be remiss if I didn't —"

Your eyes landed on a man who wore badges you easily recognized, since Nanami had the same ones. You recall making him explain each one to you during one of the late nights you often spent together. It'd been a year. 365 days and then some. The papers were no longer covering the war, yet cameras were pointed at you while you were here to discuss... what? Nationality? Pride? Being faithful to King, God, and country? Your throat tensed, chest rising and falling every few seconds. "I can't began without —" 

You shifted your stance as you looked out at the crowd. Their faces slowly morphing into various shades of skin tones and colors instead of distinguished features. "I— I'm sorry." your breath quickened as you stepped away from the microphone emitting murmurs from the crowd.

"I can't." you faced your guard who stood by your side still as stone. His eyes, however, studied you with soft concern. As he offered you his hand, you pushed it away and ran past him to a corridor. He followed you without hesitation. The murmurs morphed into a low buzz, a steady hum of Did you see that? I think she was going to cry. It's her fiancé. Does anyone know what happened? Shame to be a widow before the wedding. Who'll design the dress?

The often hardened eyes, melted at the sight of you on the floor of the empty hall. The chiffon of your dress pooled at your bare feet, shoes cast aside, crown lying sideways by your legs which were tight against your chest. His salt and pepper brows twitched while he fought to maintain his neutral facial expression, as he was taught when he first began.

You sobbed into your hands, "He's dead isn't he? And no one wants to tell me because they pity me. He's been blown to bits or tossed aside in a ditch!"

Vincent knelt down to your level and spoke your name softly, breaking every single rule. You drew your hands down slightly then looked into his eyes. The silence seeped in, until it nestled itself into your belly. A rock hardening in the pit of your stomach, ready to savor and swallow every single fear you had.

"... no" you uttered and shook your head "no, he..." you tilted your head to the side "please..."

"I don't know if he is, but... I need to get you back to the palace. We need to get you away from you here."

Your carefully painted lips formed a frown. The skin of your chin wrinkling at the very act. Another round of your sobs echoed throughout the hallway and the buzzing seemed to grow closer. "Princess, we have to leave."

People shouted your name from the other side of the door. "Have you heard from the Prince? Is he still off at war?! Did he leave you? Will there still be a wedding?!" 

Your heart sank into the pit where it would be devoured. The doors rattled, beating like the drum of an ancient song.

"Get back! Immediately!" a group of guards shouted amid the commotion. You glanced over at the oak doors. Maybe being trampled on would be better. You wouldn't know since Vincent scooped you up in his arms, then carried you to the exit behind the building away from prying eyes.

The next few months were filled with silence in every single form and shape. Silence from your mouth, save the typical "I'm not hungry" or "I'm not going." Silence in the halls, since you hardly left your room the staff didn't have to work as much. So they stood, waiting for you to come back to life. Yet, you slowly hardened each day into stubborn stone, residing in sadness.

Your staff didn't bother to ask for permission to enter anymore since you stopped speaking except when necessary. They only knocked to make you aware then opened the door timidly to do whatever they had set out. This time, it was a carefully prepared bowl of your favorite fruits. Belinda held it in her hands as she studied how your garment began to slip from your shoulders.

"Princess, the doctor says you need to eat." 

"Unless he's feeding me by force, I won't do it."

Belinda sighed then nodded "Yes, Princess." she set the plate of fruit down at the foot of your bed before leaving.

Once the door shut, your eyes landed on the bowl. The faint sweet scent caused you to make  your way over to the bowl of little delicacies. Your fingers touched at the cold produce then wrapped around them, lifting it to your mouth. Was he eating? Tears filled your eyes and you pushed the bowl away.

June 2nd, 1905

Nanami ran his hand through his hair. He needed a haircut but that was the least of his worries. Maybe you'd like him with longer hair... His fingers rubbed at the nape of his neck. Eyes landing on the stack of letters he kept by his bedside, if you'd even call it that. He'd started to leave the letters out of the envelope for quicker access. Carefully tying the bundle after reading them each night. The favorites were at the top — although, they were all his favorite. He made sure to keep certain things hidden however. Like the locket you gave him with your picture before he departed.

Another little thing he'd done was tie twine around his ring finger, at your behest. In one of your letters, which he keeps at the top of the stack, you mention it being his temporary ring until you two get the real one. Silver. I want silver for us. Gold is overrated. Nanami recalled how you chuckled at his statement, when he confessed his personal preference one morning. 

"Should I have the frames re-done then?"

"Absolutely, the palace walls are hideous." 

He grinned, breaking character, then pulled you closer to him to kiss your forehead.

He could feel it against his lips now. His fingers absentmindedly reached for the locket he wore under his shirt, only to feel the impression over his heart. A sigh left his lungs as he replayed images of you in his mind. Had you picked a dress already? It'd been a year...

The entrance of his tent flung open, "General." the soldier stood at ease awaiting for his approval and recognition.

Nanami nodded, too tired for formalities "Yes?"

"I thought you should see this, sir. We received our batch of newspapers. It's late but... it's important." he handed him a faded newspaper with a headline that read "Mad Maiden" dated April 22nd, 1905. He rose to his feet when he read about you foresaking the podium and sobbing in a hallway.

"That is all."

"Sir..."

He glanced up at the man "That. Is all."

He saluted to his higher up then retreated. A whirlwind of emotions ran through him: concern, fear, disgust at whoever concocted this filth... but namely, longing. How much longer? Recent devlopments made it impossible to write to you. The locket fell from its typical spot as he exhaled.

"Have you come to feed me?" you chuckled at Dr. Percival who stood in your room. He'd been your doctor since you were a child so you weren't accustomed to the usual formalities.

"Yes." he answered plainly.

You glanced at him then scoffed.

"... If you don't eat, I'll need to take other measures and I don't want to do that."

"... you wouldn't."

He looked into your eyes then pressed his lips together. His hand reached for the plate of food Belinda left in your room minutes ago, "Just try."

You took the plate in your hands along with the fork and bite into it. After a few chews, you spoke again "Have dinner with me."

"Okay."

It was the first time in months, you'd come downstairs for dinner. The staff didn't set the table as usual, per your request; so, you sat side by side with Dr. Percival. Your shared chews filled every nook and cranny of the room. 

The doctor noticed how you wiggled in your seat. "Have you seen the leaves change?"

"From the balcony. Yes."

He studied you, "How often do you go to the balcony?"

You cut your eyes at him. He didn't move an inch.

"Why do you still wear it?"

Your fingers danced at the mention of the jewel that'd been residing there for a year.

"If you believe he's dead, why wear it still? He won't come back if he is."

Twelve hours was a new record. The longest you'd went without crying. Sleep didn't count because you didn't do that much. Tears welled in your eyes as you gazed at the diamond.

The doctor set down his fork as he looked at you. Your shoulders started to shake as you sobbed. He rose to his feet then embraced you. Everything you'd felt over the past year bubbled up and spilled over as you sobbed against him. Within seconds, your breath became bated and ragged. Your sobs were short, choked sounds "I c—" you clutched at your chest.

He glanced down at you "Princess?" his ears burned at the sound of you gasping for air. He called you by your name and clutched your shoulders "Look at me! Look at me!" his hands rested on your cheeks as he made you look into his face. Your eyes were filled with tears as you continued to gasp. 

"Belinda! Vincent!" they rushed to your side and followed his orders to calm you down. He held onto your hand as he made you lie on the ground. "I need you to breathe, look at me!"

That night was the first time you didn't sleep alone. The doctor along with Vincent and Belinda stood nearby as you lie in bed. Their frames looked like shadows or watchdogs. Something ancient guarding a secret. Except were they protecting you from the evils of the world? Or was it the other way around?

October 15th, 1905

Your court and staff had worked hard to get you where you were now. Your chambers were still a mess but you were eating three meals a day, sometimes reluctantly, and moving around a bit more. You didn't deem walks around the halls as exercise but Dr. Percival differed. 

"Maybe we can go out to the courtyar—"

"No."

He walked down the carpeted hallway with you "Very well."

Your eyes landed on the silver frames lining the wall. "Can I rest after this?"

"Yes, of course. Will you be going to the—"

You cut your eyes at him.

"Very well, then."

The sun peered through your curtains, despite them being drawn.Your hand slammed against the comforter at Mother Nature's reluctance to let you have your way. Your eyes followed the ray of sunshine, hand drifting up to catch the light and harness it somehow. The diamond twinkled under it and the corner of your lip twitched as you felt the tug on your heartstrings.

Mornings now typically started with the doctor talking you out of bed and doing a few stretches. Yet, this morning you simply said "Leave me... please." he obliged sensing your sadness. The mahogany doors shut with a soft thud, leaving you and the sun illuminating your room. Dust motes floated through and landed onto the pile of dresses stacked in the chair. Papers and notes about the war Nanami had been away fighting... or so you hoped. You stood to your feet then looked out the window.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

"I said leave me."

"There's someone here to see you." Belinda stated.

"I'm not taking visitors. You know—" you turned at the sound of the door opening. Suddenly, time had stopped. You stopped. Breathing, blinking, thinking... being. After a moment of silence, you shook your head.

"No... hm-hmph" tears quickly found their way to your eyes. "No." you shook your finger and stepped back until you hit your dresser. "How..." your breath hitched but your eyes never left him. His hair was longer... why didn't he cut it? The medals on his uniform were polished. Anyone on the street would see him as pristine but when you looked into his eyes. You felt the ache, the yearning, the tears he cried while he was away.

"I.. you.." you breath quickened as you tried not to cry.

"I know," he reached out to you and you found yourself recoiling. Nanami shrunk back, his hands idly resting by his side unsure of what to do. Hurt filled his hazel eyes as he gazed at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows.

"Don't touch me."

He'd fought in combat, shot and been shot at but nothing could have prepared him for this.

"Guards!"

"Darling, I—"

"You're not real. You're a figment of my imagination because," you wiped the snot that was dripping from your nose "because I- I want you to be real and here, but—"

"I am. I'm right here!" he started to resist the guards that boxed him in.

"I saw you die! I dreamt about it every night!" you shouted in a broken voice then started to cry. Belinda caught onto the sound and rushed for the doctor.

Within moments, you fell to the floor, clutching at your chest. "Wh-what's happening?" Nanami attempted to run to your side but your guards pulled him back. He shoved then stepped forward only to be pulled back again. Luckily, Vincent, Dr. Percival and Belinda came running in. Vincent instructed the guards to ease up then Nanami stepped forward as you started to gasp for air.

"No, no, no," you shook your head as you proceeded to sob and heave. The guards moved forward to collect Nanami once again. Vincent watched while Belinda uttered a prayer. Dr. Percival shouted "Stop!" Nanami glanced back at him then watched as he approached you. Dr. Percival knelt down "He's real. I promise you," he leaned in until you could see his face "He. is. real."

Nanami watched you with a steady eye. Never moving or saying anything, just standing in wait for your permission. The locket thumped against his heart.

"Please... let him in. Hm?" 

Your sobs died down to quick breaths as your eyes focused on the carpet beneath your hands. Then there was the ring, staring back at you through your tears. You started up again and Nanami moved closer then knelt down and wrapped his arms around you. Your face pressed against his shoulders, chest against his, muscles tensing at the sudden movement. His scent invading your nostrils until he was all you could breathe in. Your breath hitched in your throat and tears filled your vision again. The room was silent in that moment. All of the staff filling the space of the room as they watched the long awaited reunion. Nanami oblivious to whomever was watching, softly uttering "I'm here now. I'm sorry I took so long." as he caressed your back.

You held your breath, only sufficing small inhales until you felt like you would burst. Your arms hovered over his back, wavering, shaking. The familiar scent of wood and citrus wrapping itself around you like the very hug he was giving you now made the silence impossible. You embraced him tightly with all the force you could muster. He chuckled through the tears he was shedding against your nightgown.

Vincent looked at the guards then nodded, signaling for them to leave. He trailed behind the doctor and Belinda, leaving you two alone. The room was a medley of shared sobs. When he pulled back, he smiled through his tears at the sight of his beautiful bride. Even with tears running down your cheeks and a runny nose, you were still beautiful. His hands rested on your cheeks and you instinctively put your hands over his. The corner of your lips twisted as you did so.

"What is it?" his thumb brushed the tears from your cheek.

"You... you're wearing it." you touched the twine around his finger.

"Of course I'm wearing it. You're my wife."

Tears filled your eyes once more and you sobbed, wrapping your hands around him. Kento held you close. He'd never been more grateful for such a moment as this. His lips placed a kiss at the top of your head.

"You're my wife," he repeated softly.

— Alternate Ending —

Later that afternoon, Nanami walked with you along the garden. He wanted to say so much but he didn't know where to start. His hands remained at his side as he put one foot in front of the other.

"I asked the kitchen to make your favorite tonight."

"Really?"

He nodded "I also asked that they make dessert. I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is." you chuckled at his humbleness.

"I apologize for making you worry. There was an incident and ... we couldn't communicate with anyone. It became too dangerous." he took your hand in his. You held it for a moment "You're here now." you pulled your hand back and offered him a small smile.

He leaned back slightly then followed your sight of line to the sunset. His lips opened then shut and he joined you in the silence instead.

The staff relished at the joy you seemed to radiate during dinner. Your laughter and voice was music to their ears. Joy was one of their favorite songs to hear in the halls and they truly owed it to his return. He was happy to see you in such high spirits, however they were dashed when it was time for bed. You shifted for a few moments as he lie next to you.

"It's... it's been a while."

His heart went dull at the reminder "... I know. Should I remain on my side?"

Your silence put him at further unease "I'll stay here. Don't worry."

You rested your head against the pillows.

"Darling?"

"Yes?" you glanced at him.

"Can we hold hands? Only for a moment."

Silence, then a nod. Nanami felt his heart race at the pure prospect of hand holding. He'd felt giddy. He was delighted. His hand slid into yours and he looked up at the ceiling. He brought it to his chest then you pulled back.

"I'm sorry...."

Hurt filled his eyes once again. "It's quite alright. I can sleep in the guest room."

"What?! No. You've just returned from battle. Stay. I'll go to the guest room." you kicked the covers off and he scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous, the Princess should stay in her chambers. I'll leave." Nanami got out of bed then headed for the door.

"No."

He glanced back at you then shifted his stance to face you fully. "What do you suppose we do then? Since you won't even touch me. It seems you can't stand me now."

"I never said that!"

"You don't have to."

You leaned back at the verbal slap. "Nanami..."

"Just tell me what you want and I'll do it." he approached you "I swear, I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."

Your eyes started to fill with tears again as you gazed into his "I wish you never left."

He pressed his lips together slightly, still gazing into your eyes "I can't change what happened."

"... I know."

You broke your gaze for a second to wipe your face "They called me mad," you let out a half-hearted chuckle "The Mad Maiden."

"Don't say that. Whoever wrote that is a dimwit with nothing better to do."

".... so you've read about it?"

"... yes."

Silence until "I canceled my appointment with the wedding dress designer. We had a meeting scheduled a few months after you were supposed to return in the fall of 1904. When you stopped writing, I..." tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head then shrugged.

He reached out to you then drew back, remembering how you could barely hold his hand.

"... do you still love me?"

You turned to face him.

"Do you?"

"How dare you ask me that?" you shook your head and he stared right into your soul "I shed myself for months, withering away until I barely recognized myself. I waited nearly two years for you to return. I convinced myself that there would be no wedding, There'd be no honeymoon or kids skipping down the halls because you were gone. I dreamt about burying an empty box and I still kept this ring on my hand because I couldn't bear the thought of aching so terribly for anyone else." tears fell from your eyes "I ached... every single day."

His eye never left yours and they filled to the brim with tears at your words.

"Don't you ever ask me that again."

He continued to stare into your eyes then leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. A surprised squeal left your lips, before those moans he missed took over. His hands found their way to your back and your head which he cradled. With each second you melted into him and against him, he moved closer.

"Can I—"

"Yes." you pulled him down toward you and he briefly smiled against your skin. His hands intertwined with yours but the feeling of twine gave you pause.

"What? What is it?"

"You... you're wearing it." you touched the twine around his finger.

"Of course I'm wearing it. You're my wife."

— Author's Note — I really enjoyed writing this one. Originally, I had a scene where the doctor actually resorts to opium to calm down the princess but that felt too hardcore.

#dividers by plutism and inklore #madebyjade #kento nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento angst #nanami fluff #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento headcanons #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento au #jjk nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami au

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”

*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen

Or

Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

Part 2

Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.

Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.

She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.

Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.

“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”

You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”

Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.

As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.

You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.

The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.

You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.

“Lucy said you sing.”

You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.

His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.

You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”

Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.

His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”

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#m0chaminx #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut

[alastor-simp]

La Vie en Rose🌹 - Alastor X Reader

Requested by @hitherethea

"Ugh FML!" Groaning out loud, your body was slowly making its way to somewhere quiet. Today was a very unlucky day, as there was many mishaps that left you feeling frustrated and emotionally drained. Earlier in the morning, you dropped a few plates while putting them away for Niffty. Niffty said it was fine and cleaned up the mess, but it left you feeling extremely guilty. After that incident, you were tasked with getting some groceries for the kitchen, only to being catcalled and nearly sexually harassed by some grotesque reptile demons once you started to head back to the hotel. Nothing happened to you physically, but god, why do some people have to be so gross?! Once you got back, your head got nearly speared by Vaggie on accident when you walked in through the door. She wasn't aiming for you thankfully, she was trying to hit Sir Pentious after he accidentally blasted her favorite ribbon with a laser gun. She grabbed the spear and ran away to catch Sir Pentious, yelling out an apology to you as she chased after a screaming snake slithering down the hallway.

Lord you couldn't catch a break. Your only place of sanctuary was the porch in your room. The view always helped you relaxed and the breeze was nice, despite the mass pollution in the air. Entering your room, you slowly made your way to the porch. The sky was covered in stars, but instead of pitch black, it was a dark vermilion. Well, this was Hell, so it was better then nothing. Heaving a sigh, you moved to one of the chairs on the porch and took a seat, throwing your head back as you tried to relax from the migraine that was starting to form. A few minutes went by as you continued to lean back in the chair, listening to the sounds of the cars screeching below and people yelling profanities at one another. "Why the long face my dear?" A static voice appeared next to your head, causing you to jolt and nearly fall off the chair. Looking up, you see a certain deer demon, leaning down due to his tall height, smiling like a jester at your reaction. "Not funny Al." Grumbling from your position, you got up and sat back properly in your seat. Alastor stood up to his normal position, and broke into a fit of laughter, probably still finding your reaction hilarious. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! I didn't expect you to take a tumble!" He made his way over to the other chair and sat down, placing his microphone against the wall, before turning to you with his legs crossed and hands on his lap. Finding his response ridiculous, you rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. You enjoy scaring the crap out of everyone."

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued to stare at you, smiling widely. "Anyhoo! What seems to be troubling you, my dear?" Alastor asked you, as he continued to stare at you. His sharp smile turn to a more soft grin as he awaited your response. Sighing again, your eyes turn back to gaze at the view. "Not a very good day today. I made a mess for Niffty, almost got raped by some gross lizard-like demons when I left the grocery store, and then the icing on the cake was getting nearly speared by Vaggie from her chasing after Sir Pentious." Alastor continued to listen to you, his face changing a bit from slight sadness to extreme anger, especially when you mentioned the demons who tried to assault you. Looks like he has some hunting to do later. He may be a serial killer, but any inappropriate actions towards a lady infuriates him. Pushing his feelings of carnage away, he continued to stare at you. Your body was slouched on the chair as your eyes continued to stare at the sky. Instead of the kind smile you usually wore, it was replaced with a somber frown. Moving his hand slowly, he placed his clawed hand on your head, giving you a slight rub. He wasn't use to acts of affection, so this was the best he could offer. "Is there something I can do to make that frown of yours turn back into a smile?" Surprised by Al's words, you looked back at him. He was still smiling, but he was staring at you with kind eyes. You found it sweet that he wanted to cheer you up instead of leaving you alone in your negative emotions. Thinking long and hard about what you wanted, you came to a conclusion.

"Um, could you sing for me perhaps?" Al nearly froze at your request. Out of all the things you wanted, you wanted to hear him sing? Oh what a charming doll you were! Alastors smile grew tremendously, almost to the point it broke his face. Grabbing his microphone, he turned to you, positively joyful at your request. "My my! What an adorable request! Now then! What song would you like me to sing my dear? Request away!" Alastor was beaming at you. He was surprisingly cute like this, but you wouldn't tell him that. Any song? This was tough. You knew he was a fan of oldies and jazz and detested some music genres. Soon you came up with the perfect song for him to sing to you. Blushing at him, you looked away from him, twirling your hair with your fingers. "La vie en rose, please." Alastor was actually surprised at your choice, as he tilted his head. "Why that particular song, my dear?" You looked back at him, face flushed. "Well, I heard that you knew how to speak French, so I kinda wanted to see if it was true or not." Twiddling your fingers, you continued to stare at Al, who was still smiling. "Can you really? Speak French, I mean?" Alastor nodded his head: "Oui mon cher!" Oh no, that made your heart race. Al's voice was already amazing as it was, now you get to hear him sing to you in French?! Someone better pinch you to make sure this is not a dream.

Clearing his throat, Alastor adjusted his position, placing his mic in front of him, as he was preparing for his small performance for you.

(Credit to Paranoid Dj on Youtube for this awesome cover)

🎶𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑠

𝑄𝑢'𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑠

𝐽𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑'𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟

𝐷𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑐̧𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒́ 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟

𝑈𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑢𝑟

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑗𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒

𝐶'𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑚𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑙'𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑙'𝑎 𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒́ 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒

𝐸𝑡 𝑑𝑒̀𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑒 𝑙'𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐̧𝑜𝑖𝑠

𝐴𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑗𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑖

𝑀𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖 𝑏𝑎𝑡🎶

Two words, HOLY S***! His voice was incredible! The whole time during his performance, you were blushing madly, but also it felt like all the frustration you were feeling before slowly diminished. Singing out the last of the lyrics, a sound of applause radiated from his microphone. "Enjoyed the performance, darling?" Alastor looked back at you, noticing your flushed face and wide eyes. "Darling?" Alastor tilted his head at you, confused at your reaction. Breaking from your trance, you started nodding rapidly. "Yes! I enjoyed your performance very much!" Satisfied that you enjoyed it, Alastor gave a nod, as he placed his microphone back to where he left it. Looking back at you, he raised his hand and grabbed your chin with his fingers. "Feeling better, chérie?" His ruby eyes gazed into yours, almost as if he was staring into your soul. Heat rose to your cheeks as you suspected you were as red as his hair. "Y-es I am. Thank you again Al." No longer feeling upset about the day, your emotions improved and you gave Al a warm smile. Humming with approval, Al still held your chin, but not before leaning closer to the point your noses were touching. "Wonderful my dear! Glad your smile has returned especially since you are never fully dressed without one! If you desire another performance in the future, seek me out."

Goosebumps began to form on your skin, as you continued to stare at Al. He is so close!!! Tongue-tied, you nodded your head. Pleased with your response, Al let go of your chin and stood up from the chair, adjusting his suit and hair. He remembered his previous mission, before he sang to you. Feelings of wrath and rage bubbled inside him, but he hid it as not to alarm you. "Well then! I have some business to attend to at the moment! Have a good evening my dear!" Alastor bid you a farewell, as he diminished in a black shadow, and disappeared from your eyes. Watching Al leave, you covered your face with your hands. It was true you were no longer feeling upset about today, but now you were starting to feel other emotions. Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweating. What was this feeling? It wasn't fear, cause you knew you weren't scared of Alastor, so what was it? Admiration? Or was it something else?

#hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #la vie en rose #alastor singing #song #French #French song #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x reader romance #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #viviziepop #vivienne medrano #vivzieverse #Youtube #paranoid dj #alastor song cover #alastor song #la vie en rose cover #charlie morningstar #x reader #x reader fluff #hazbin angel dust #angel dust

[cookiescribble]

Take Me Home

A/N: fun fact, I wrote this entire thing while i was sobering up after getting way too drunk at a friend's party. mod ghost can attest to this. - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend comes home drunk after girls’ night, and he helps take care of her while politely turning down her advances. (based on 7x16)

CW: mentions of alcohol and sex

~~~

Spencer was all too happy to take care of his godson. He didn’t even need a reason. So when JJ said they were having girls’ night, he really didn’t mind babysitting. 

The girls came back late. Like, middle-of-the-night-into-early-morning late. 

JJ unlocked the door and came into the house, trying to be as quiet as she could be so she didn’t wake anyone up. She thanked Spencer for babysitting. 

“I really appreciate you watching my baby… and now you have to take care of your own baby” she snickered. 

Spencer gave her a confused look until he saw his girlfriend stumbling in behind her. She gave him a big smile before tripping right into his arms. He stood her up as she continued giggling, trying to be quiet so she didn’t wake up the house. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” She kept giggling and wrapped her arms around him, mostly to hold herself up, but also because she was happy to see him. 

JJ patted Spencer on the shoulder. “She fell in the bathroom a couple hours ago. Good luck.” 

He took a deep breath and gave JJ a little smile before escorting his girlfriend out the door and into his car. As he was buckling her in, she pulled on his collar a little and said, “you look extra nice tonight, is this a new outfit?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. “It’s the same outfit I was in when you left 8 hours ago.” He started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. 

She fidgeted in the seat a little as she looked at him. “No, I don’t remember you looking this good when I left…” she reached her hand out to place it on his thigh, smiling mischievously at him. 

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the road. “That’s the alcohol talking. Did you know studies have shown that people who have consumed a moderate amount of alcohol find the faces of members of the opposite sex 25% more attractive than their sober counterparts?” He glanced at her again for a moment before adding, “and you’ve definitely consumed more than a moderate amount of alcohol, so you’re basically looking through rose-tinted glasses right now.”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s not the alcohol. You’re just hot.” She continued to stroke along his thigh before he reached down and placed her hand in her lap, giving it a little squeeze before he let it go. 

“You guys were out awfully late tonight. You know we have to go out in the morning, right?” He asked as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. He got out of the car before opening the passenger door and helping his girlfriend out of her seat and towards the apartment. 

She waved him off, saying “it’ll be fine, I’ll be up and ready in time.” She let him lead her towards their front door, smiling when she felt his hands around her waist. 

When they were in the apartment and Spencer closed the door behind them, her hands were all over him. She stood on her tiptoes to give him sloppy kisses on the lips. He had to keep his hands on her so she wouldn’t fall over. “Baby…” she started, her hands moving under his shirt. 

He took her hands and pulled them away, despite her pout of protest. “Sweetie, not tonight,” he said. 

She pouted more. “Why not? I can’t be handsy with my boyfriend? We’ve been dating a long time, you know.”

“4 years, 3 months, 22 days” he responded instinctually. “But, you’re too drunk right now. We can’t do this when you’re this drunk.”

She crossed her arms. “I am NOT drunk.” She said definitively, as if that would convince him. 

He smiled and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Okay. Let’s assume that’s true.” He took his hands off her waist so she could stand on her own, pointing at the end of the hall. “Walk to the end of the hall and back.”

She huffed a bit before stumbling down the hallway and back. “See, I’m fine!”

He stifled a laugh. “I would hardly call that walking.” She rolled her eyes at him while he continued talking. “Stand on one foot.”

She hesitated for a moment before lifting one of her legs up, immediately falling into him. When he gave her a smug look, she pointed at him and said, “Hey, in my defense, I can’t stand on one foot when I’m sober, either.”

He laughed and nodded. “Well, that’s true. I’ll give you that. You’re just clumsy.” He held her by the waist again. “Can you count backwards from 1,000?”

She furrowed her brows. “Are you serious right now? Would you really rather give me a sobriety test than have sex with me tonight?”

He kissed her on the forehead before guiding her towards their bedroom. “Yes. It was more for my own amusement than anything else.” He sat her down on the bed before looking through the drawers for her pajamas. “You can’t even stand on your own right now. What did you expect?”

She huffed before responding. “I expected a boyfriend who would be happy to see me.”

He shook his head at her theatrics before handing her pajamas over to her. “When did I say I wasn’t happy to see you? I’m always happy to see you.”

She crossed her arms, not moving. “You’re not acting like it. And you know you’re not a cop, right? I don’t think FBI agents usually give tests like that.”

He laughed. “I know. I was merely demonstrating your inebriation through a common field sobriety test.” He took the pajamas back from her and placed them on the bed. “I could never take advantage of you like that. I can help you with your nighttime routine, though.”

She made a face like she wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t be. “You know, most guys would love that they could get their drunk girlfriend into bed this easily.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. I don’t need to, though. And you’re way too drunk to consent.” He stood her up and brought her clothes to the bathroom. “How would that be enjoyable, anyway? You can barely even think straight; I would just be worrying about you the whole time.” He put some toothpaste on her toothbrush and handed it to her. “And, with the numbing effects of alcohol, you wouldn’t enjoy it that much either; you’d barely be able to feel anything.”

She looked at him for a moment before taking the toothbrush and starting to brush her teeth. “I guess you’re right… you know, sometimes I hate when you’re right.” 

He laughed, hugging her close to him while she finished brushing her teeth. “I know. But it’s okay, I’m still here, sweetheart.” He swayed her back and forth a bit, as if he was calming down a fussy baby. 

She rinsed her mouth after she brushed her teeth, looking at their reflection in the mirror. She could see how tired she looked. “… Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.”

He kissed the top of her head and moved her so she could hop up onto the sink and he could help take her makeup off. He washed her face and smiled when she closed her eyes as he massaged the soap into her skin. “Comfortable?” 

“Mmm…” she mumbled, the circular motion of his hands on her face starting to lull her to sleep. 

He chuckled, gently patting her face dry with a towel when he was done. He helped her off the counter and started to help change her clothes. 

When he took her shirt off, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He just laughed and helped her into her pajamas. “Yes, you look great, but no, I’m not changing my mind.”

She sighed and pouted a bit more. “You’re no fun…” she said before yawning. Without even looking at him, she said, “wipe the smug look off of your face; I know I’m tired, that doesn’t mean I agree with your decision.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re not even looking at me.” But he was grinning, and they’ve been together long enough that she knew exactly what face he’d be making. 

“I know you have that I-told-you-so look on your face. I don’t need to look at you to know that.” She turned to him, confirming what she already knew. “Let’s just go to bed.”

He nodded and held her as he guided her back to the bedroom. He lifted the covers so she could get under them before turning off the light and getting under the covers with her. He turned to her and kissed her cheek a few times. 

He could tell she was still upset. He held her in his arms and let her rest her head on his chest. “I know you’re all moody from the alcohol, but I think you’ll thank me later.” 

She grumbled and crossed her arms. “You think I’m moody? Is that why you’re being so mean to me?”

He gave her a confused look. “How am I being mean to you? Did I say something wrong?” He always struggled with social interaction, so he was worried something he said had come across the wrong way. 

She huffed. “It feels like you don’t even like me tonight. All you’ve done is push me away. I was so happy to see you and I couldn’t wait to get home and be with you and you don’t even care.”

“Honey…” he started before pulling her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her waist; he knew it was her favorite way to cuddle, so he figured it could help while she was being overdramatic. “I’m so happy to see you. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I know the effects of alcohol on the human brain and how it impairs judgment. And I know we’ve been together a long time and you say it doesn’t matter, but it matters to me.”

She looked at him for a moment and sighed quietly, realizing how dramatic she was sounding. “I guess I’m using my emotional brain while you’re using your logical brain, so it made me feel like you didn’t care.”

He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer to him. “I do care. I love you.” He kissed her cheek to try to get the point across. “If it helps, you being all over me has made the decision a little… difficult.” He blushed lightly and shifted his position a little. 

She giggled and nudged her nose into his. “It helps a little. I’m glad I had at least a little bit of an effect on you.” She yawned and buried her face into his chest. “That’s… all I needed to hear, I guess.”

He stroked her hair as he saw her close her eyes. “Get some sleep, sweetie. I already know you’re gonna be cranky when we go out tomorrow. You should at least get a little sleep. 

She groaned, but she was too tired to argue with him. Besides, he was right. Like he always was. 

…

She wasn’t the only one who was cranky the next day. 

All the girls were so hungover, they could barely tolerate being there. And Spencer’s enthusiasm was only making it worse. 

“Why are you yelling?”

“Make him stop…”

Derek laughed and asked, “What did you guys drink last night.”

“The green fairy…” Penelope answered, groaning. 

Derek laughed again, pointing to Spencer and his girlfriend. “Well, you two must’ve had fun when you got home.”

She grumbled in response, making Derek laugh again. “No?”

“He made me take a sobriety test.” She rolled her eyes, but her sunglasses blocked her eyes from being seen. 

Derek raised his eyebrows, looking at Spencer. “Seriously?” He looked back at her. “Did you pass?”

She scoffed, throwing her hands up a little. “No! I was wasted!”

Spencer laughed and hugged her from behind. “It’s true. It was pretty amusing, though.”

“Man, she must’ve been thrilled about that,” Derek answered sarcastically. 

She sighed, leaning into Spencer a little. “At least he made me breakfast. He did that right.”

Spencer rested his head on her shoulder. “I did everything right. You just don’t want to admit it.” He grinned, sounding a little smug. 

She looked at him pointedly, leaning up a little to speak quietly in his ear, so only he could hear her. “Hey, if you keep acting like that, we’re not doing anything tonight either.”

He laughed and responded softly. “You know you don’t mean that.”

She grumbled. “Okay, fine. But can you at least stop being so smug? It’s making me even crankier than I am from the hangover.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Okay, okay. Deal.”

Everyone chatted casually for a bit before shifting their focus on the race, eagerly awaiting the end of it.

#also yes i did indeed google drunk facts and included some of them here #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

[redflagshipwriter]

batmom Cass progress post

(masterpost)

Far Too Young: Cassandra Wayne, Teen Mother Debutante?

Danny cringed away from the headline on the newspaper sitting on the coffee table. “I am so sorry,” he said miserably. Someone must have reported on that first day in the city. Why'd they sit on the story for so long? That was the only time he'd been in public with Cass. So far, he'd only left Wayne Manor with Damian and Alfred to volunteer at the animal shelter.

Cass blinked up at him, from her perch on the back of the sofa. “Don't be,” she said. “It's fine. They will always talk.” Her face twitched into condescension. “It means nothing.” 

He wrung his hands because it really did look like something. She hadn't given him the article and he wasn't quite bold enough to request to read it. But it couldn't be nice. Even the headline was judgmental. 

“It would probably be for the best if we made a statement.” Grandfather Bat said out of nowhere.

Danny startled and jumped straight up. The chair creaked unhappily when he landed back on it.

“Brucedad,” Cass complained.

He huffed and held his hands up. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to startle anyone.”

Danny hunched a little more into his hoodie. Well. Tucker’s hoodie. It was way too big for Danny, especially after the weight he'd lost. But it was weirdly comforting. He fiddled with the sleeves.

“Cass, could we talk about it in my office?” Bruce said. His tone was calm and even. Danny sort of suspected it was for his benefit. “Danny, Damian is looking for you.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny let his heels drop off the chair, onto the carpet. “Yeah, okay. Where's he at?” 

Danny found his 13 year old uncle out in the barn with his cow. Danny hopped the wooden gate to go inside and sneezed at the dust in the air from dried hay. 

“Danny,” Damian acknowledged. He was brushing Batcow. “I hope that you are well this morning.” 

Danny made that weird white person smile-grimace where only his lips moved. “Good morning,” he said, instead of either lying or being a bummer. “Are we going to the shelter today?” 

Damian didn't pause. “Unfortunately, I have been told that it will not fit in Pennyworth’s schedule today,” he said primly. He dragged another long, precise stroke down Batcow’s fur, exactly lining up with his last stroke. Danny eyed his sure, confident motions. “Instead, I wondered if you would join me in a project in the barn. Have you any experience with wood working?”

“Nope.” Danny drifted a little closer. “Do you?”

“No.” Damian dropped to a crouch to take care of Batcow's hooves. “It is of no importance. We can overcome.” 

“Hell yeah, Uncle D,” Danny agreed genially. Why not? He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are we making?”

“Storage shelving, for materials intended for art therapy.” Damian made one final brisk movement and rose in a smooth motion. He hung up the tools and brushed his hands off. Danny followed Damian as he started to leave.

“Art therapy?” Danny echoed curiously. “That's neat. For ….you?” He ventured. 

‘It’s for me,’ Danny thought wryly. ‘This 13 year old takes his responsibility as my Uncle seriously. He'll say it's for him, but want me there, and-’

“Of course not,” Damian scoffed. “It is for Jerry and Batcow. They have unresolved traumas.” He pulled the door shut behind them. “We will require lumber from the storage unit, as well as an assortment of power tools. I am disallowed from using them without the presence of someone who is taller than 5 feet, or older than 20.”

“That is awfully specific.” Danny eyed Damian suspiciously. “I'm not going to get in any trouble for this, right?” He followed even as Damian picked up the pace a little as they crossed the huge green lawn towards a shed. 

“Tt.” Damian tapped in a code at lightning speed and then hefted open the door. “No. You will be fine.” He said flatly. He stalked into the dark space. Danny followed and sneezed at the dusty interior. “Can you lift 50 pounds?” 

Danny sniggered. “Yeah, easily,” he said with confidence.

Damian hummed in the back of his throat. “Good. You shall be the beast of burden.” 

That was such a wild thing to say that Danny blinked twice while processing it. Beast of burden?!? Who said that?

“... I'm not sure I like that,” Danny teased. “Have you heard that I'm the baby?” He gestured at himself. Weedy as he was, he was still noticeably larger than Damian. 

“You should be proud,” Damian said in a dry tone. “to be such an accomplished baby. Here.” He pointed at a bundle of lumber. “I require this.” 

Danny was a burdened beast back and forth between the shed and the barn for three trips to assemble everything that Damian thought they would need. The preteen oversaw it all with perfect aplomb, dark eyes glittering as his plan started to come together. 

There was a learning curve. 

“That's why they say to measure twice and cut once, huh,” Danny observed. He pursed his lips at the board that was only about half an inch too short for their purpose. They couldn't like, glue or nail on a slight extension, could they?

“We shall throw this in the woods so that no one discovers our failure.” Damian lifted one side of the poorly cut plank and dragged it to the back of the barn into an unused stall. It dragged a line through the loose straw cushioning the floor. 

“He's so little,’ Danny thought hysterically. He could not laugh at Damian. He absolutely could not. The little guy took himself so seriously. Danny was actually shaking with the effort not to laugh or coo.

Damian seemed to have no idea. “For the moment I will store it out of sight here.” He let the plank fall to the ground from an inch or so and then shut the stall door. Danny watched with his head cocked to the side and a hand pressed over his lips to hide his grin. 

“We have two more excess planks.” Damian went back to business. 

#dp x dc #dc x dp #red mama bat

[colonelarr0w]

Can I request a fic where someone else confesses to reader infront of Megumi? How would he react thank you!

Sypnosis - A student from Kyoto is a little too bold ... but who is Megumi to say anything without accidentally revealing that he likes you?

Warning(s) - None.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

God … he hated Valentine's Day.  

But not for the cynical reasons that everyone else seemed to despise Valentine's Day for – no, his loathing for the holiday stemmed mostly from his frustration with himself.  

His frustration over not being able to say something … anything … to you. Every time that he thought about it, about confessing to you or saying anything to you about his feelings, it felt like someone had lodged something in his throat. It felt like someone had stolen his ability to speak, locking it away in a tiny metal cage and swallowing the key for its lock. 

And it wasn't like Yuuji or Nobara made the situation any better. If anything, they only added fuel to the flame – constantly teasing the poor boy any time that you were in his vicinity. Megumi would have to bite back his growing scowl whenever you approached; knowing that Yuuji and Nobara would smirk at one another and embarrass him in one way or another.  

Thank God that you never really noticed … unless you did. Maybe you were just being nice in order to not add to an already bad enough situation (you genuinely had no idea what was going on, Megumi would later find out).  

"C'mon Fushiguro, get her something nice and tell her!" Yuuji had told him first thing that morning, leaning against the open doorframe of his dormitory and smiling widely. Megumi bit back his urge to roll his eyes.  

"Here, I'll give you everything. All you need to do is speak, yeah?" Nobara had said when he and Yuuji joined her in the school's courtyard. Again, Megumi had bitten back the urge to roll his eyes towards his skull.  

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell you, it was just that he had absolutely no idea of how he would be able to stomach your rejection when it inevitably hit him.  

"Fushiguro! There you are!"  

His head turns at the sound of your voice, the scowl on his face fading almost immediately upon seeing you make your way over to him. You lift your hand in a friendly wave, one that he doesn't hesitate to return.  

Yuuji and Nobara exchange knowing looks as you wave to them as well, eyebrows momentarily furrowing together at the snicker that Yuuji hides behind his hand. Even Nobara's smile seems forced, but once again, you don't draw any attention to it.  

"Hey (Y/N)," Megumi says with a polite bow of his head, feeling his chest swell at the smile that you flash in his direction. "Gojo didn't send you on a mission today?" 

"Nope! I think he was more heartbroken at the fact that Nanami didn't get him any flowers for Valentine's Day," you reply with a dismissive wave of your hand. Yuuji laughs heartily at that, but his laughter is quieted immediately by Nobara smacking her palm against his mouth.  

Your eyes flicker to watch as Nobara smiles at you, her eyes closing as she slowly begins to drag the pink-haired boy back into the school. 

That leaves you and Megumi alone.  

"Oh, I wanted to ask you--" 

"(Y/N)!"  

You lift your head at someone calling out your name, smiling as a visiting second-year from the Kyoto school walks over, his hands closed around a comically large bouquet of vibrant red roses. He smiles at you once he's standing in front of you, not noticing the confused look on your face … or the deepened scowl that had settled over Megumi's features.  

"Oh … hello," you say, mustering the politest smile that you could without looking as though you wanted to shove the Kyoto student away. He returns your smile, then shifting the bouquet of flowers forward, silently urging you to take them.  

Megumi can feel his heart sink to the depths of his stomach as you take the roses, holding them against your chest to ensure that none of them would fall. You nod your head at the Kyoto student, already feeling an uncomfortable sensation beginning to bubble in your stomach.  

"Here, this is for you as well!" Suddenly, a white envelope with a bright red heart scrawled into it is shoved into your free hand. The Kyoto student only smiles wider, watching you through glistening eyes as you chuckle – a chuckle that Megumi immediately pegs as you being uncomfortable.  

"Thank you, you're too kind," you reply, still chuckling even as you shift to stow the unopened letter into the pocket of your uniform. The Kyoto student opens his mouth to speak, but his words die on the tip of his tongue at the glare that Megumi shoots in his direction.  

"N-no problem," the Kyoto student mumbles out, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as his gaze flickers between an uncomfortable you and an irate Megumi – whose glare looks as though it could light blazing fires.  

And without uttering another word to you, the Kyoto student scurries away. 

You turn to Megumi, finally noticing the frown that had settled on his face. "Fushiguro? Everything okay?" 

He shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality as he turns his head to catch your awaiting gaze. His eyes dart between you and the flowers that you hold, though he doesn't dare to say anything regarding the roses that are borderline falling from your arms.  

"Fine," he answers coldly, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. You furrow your eyebrows for a moment, then a knowing smile curls the corners of your mouth upward.  

"You know, I was hoping to get flowers from someone else today," you say with a little shrug of your shoulders, already bending to place down the bouquet of roses. Megumi's eyebrow perks, eyes following you as you fold your hands behind your back and cheekily smile at him.  

Megumi's frown only seems to deepen at your words, the letter he had written for you suddenly feeling as heavy as stones where it sat in his jacket pocket. 

"Yeah? Who?" Megumi dares to ask, feeling his anger double at the sight of your smile widening.  

You giggle, already reaching into your pocket for something – removing a small black box with the letter 'M' engraved into its thick fabric. He stills, staring down at it, puzzled.  

Hesitantly, Megumi reaches out, taking the box from you and opening it. Inside is a silver ring, and turning it over reveals a little message engraved into the silver.  

Megumi <3 

His cheeks immediately flush a bright shade of red, the tips of his ears burning as his gaze returns to you. Your lips are turned upward in a smile, this one soft and gentle – the one that crinkles the corners of your eyes and makes your smile lines stand out.  

"Do you like it?" Megumi flushes again at the sound of your breathy chuckle. It was cute to you, how he was admiring the ring while simultaneously trying to catch your gaze.  

His fingers snap the box shut, arms lifting to wrap themselves around you. You let out a shocked yelp as you're tugged against Megumi's chest, his face hiding itself into your hair as he squeezes at you with a strength you had no idea he possessed.  

You chuckle after a moment, finally lifting your arms to return his embrace. He relaxes upon feeling you around him, closing his eyes and simply savoring the feeling of you.  

"I like you too, by the way," you whisper into his ear, smiling as he pulls back just enough to glance at you. His face reddens impossibly further, but he finds himself smiling nonetheless.  

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't that bad after all.  

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fanfiction #megumi fushiguro fanfiction #fushiguro megumi fanfiction

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again

Requested: yes

Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."

48) "I love our cuddles."

49) "Stay here tonight."

Warnings: none tbh

Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.

Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"

"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.

Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."

"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."

Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."

Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.

Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."

Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."

The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.

Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.

Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."

Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.

As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.

Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"

As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.

The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff

[xxchumanixx]

Helloooo

could you write a Tim Bradford X rookie!reader, when they meet for the first time in a bar and have a one night stand (with smut if you feel like it) and then in the morning they both have to go to work, and it turns out she is his rookie ??

and from there, he really tries to be hard on her but he can’t because he is scared to hurt her feelings ?? Even if she is kinda of a badass, so every time he is hard on her she is not afraid to talk back, and teases him for sure (dirty jokes about their one night stand).

Doomed

Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem and male receiving), slight dirty talk, fluff

Word count: 3.477

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I really like the idea and it was very fun to write!

Maybe, just maybe, gonna make a series out if this.

Enjoy!

Sitting at a bar, drinking before your gonna start working for the police the next morning, maybe wasn't the best idea.

But you were nervous (even if you'd never admit that out loud), and a drink paired with foreign faces seemed to be a good way to relax.

Sitting at the bar with a martini in front of you, you played with the bowl of peanuts, occasionally picking one and eating it.

Contemplating if you should ask for more, someone sat beside you. From your first glance you could tell he was handsome - a little older than you, but you didn't mind that.

He must have caught you looking, cause after he ordered a beer his gaze fell on you.

"Hi." he greeted you, a small smile gracing his lips that looked more than kissable. "Hey." you gave back, smiling as well, as his gaze fell to the bowl.

"Hungry?" he wanted to know, chuckling lightly. "Oh!" you made, chuckling as well. "No, I just played with the bowl and somehow ended up eating all the peanuts that were left."

He chuckled again, as he held out his hand to you. "Tim." he introduced himself. "Y/N." you gave back, shaking his hand. It was big and warm, his long fingers brushing over yours as you let go.

"Nice to meet you." he said, gesturing to your drink. "Want another one?" Your gaze followed his to your almost empty martini. "Sure, that would be nice." you gave back, smiling.

His hand rose, gathering the barkeepers attention. "Another martini for the lady, please." he ordered, to which the barkeeper nodded, starting to mix your drink.

"Thank you." you told him, head resting on your hand as you looked up at him. He nodded, smiling.

"What brought you here tonight?" he asked, elbow resting on the bar with his body turned towards you.

"I start my new job in the morning and I was a little nervous about it." you explained. "Thought a drink and foreign faces would help." His head tilted, looking at you in interest. "What job?"

Swallowing you decided to lie. He didn't need to know that you were to start as a cop.

"I'm at a marketing company as a media designer." you explained, proud of your little lie. He nodded, smiling. "Sounds great."

The evening went on with you two talking and drinking, and before you knew it it became a little more.

"What do you say...." he started, biting his lip, averting your attention for a second. "If we go to my place." Heat rushed through you, a smile stretching your lips. "I like that idea."

He smirked, before he payed for your drinks. Then you both walked out and to his car. Climbing inside the truck you felt giddy, knowing exactly what was about to come - that was if he wasn't a serial killer.

The drive felt like it was sparkling with electricity, an atmosphere so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

When you reached his house he parked, before you got out, following him to the front door. Your fingers trembled in anticipation, as he opened the door, before heading inside.

Once the door was closed, his lips were on yours.

They really were kissable.

It was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping your waist, tugging you closer. The bulge in his pants pressed against your belly, and you bit your lip as his brushed down your neck.

Breathing heavily, you pushed his shirt up, tugging it over his head and discarding of it on the floor.

His hands did the same with your tight dress, pushing it up to your hips, his hands grabbing your ass as his lips found their way back to yours.

Moaning you buckled into him, his hands pressing you against him. Then his kisses went down further, over the bit of cleavage that was exposed by your dress, one of his hands kneading your breast through the thin bra you wore underneath.

Biting your lip you held back a moan, causing him to look up at you again. "Don't hold it back." he told you. "I wanna hear it."

Another wave of heat rushed through you, and you did as you were told, his words turning you on even more, as you moaned, cheeks flushed.

He kneeled down, lips ghosting over your stomach, before he pushed the dress up further, bunching it up just above your belly.

Breathing heavily you followed him with your eyes, gasping as he looked up, his fingers ghosting over your clothed cunt.

"So wet already." he mumbled, and your cheeks flushed harder. He kissed it, before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs.

Biting your lip you stepped out of them, before his hands guided you back to him.

Placing one of your legs on his shoulder, you gasped, as his breath fanned over your heat. Steadying yourself your hands found their way into his hair.

As his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, you moaned loudly. One of his hands gripped your ass, pressing you against him as his mouth began to devour you.

His tongue flicked over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, causing you to see stars as you tugged at his short hair.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, his tongue found your entrance, pushing inside. You were a moaning mess under him, melting away like butter in the sun.

His thumb drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, the dress sliding back down a little, but neither of you cared really, as his tongue continued its assault on you.

"Fuck." you breathed, looking down at him with hooded eyes. Meeting his gaze your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you rode his face.

His thumb left your clit, one of his fingers slowly pushing inside you. You gasped, clenching around it as the knot in your belly tightened more and more.

He began fingering you, fast. As his tongue flicked over your clit, almost matching the speed of his finger, he added a second one.

It made filthy sounds as he licked and fingered you just behind his front door, the thought making you moan again. He was relentless on you, making you whimper, as he lightly bit down, the pain shooting pleasure down to your toes.

Screaming his name you came on his tongue, the knot in your belly exploding so suddenly it stole your breath; riding out your high on him as he took everything you gave him.

Gasping for air you slowly came down, letting go of his hair, as he set your leg back down. He stood back up, chuckling at your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.

Kissing down your neck he gave you a moment to calm down, before he sucked at your sweet spot, making you moan again.

It felt like he knew your body without even having touched it before.

Kissing you, he guided you backwards, not stopping until you hit the bedroom door, fumbling for the doorknob.

Opening the door he walked you backwards to his bed, until your legs came in contact with it. He turned you around, opening the dress, before sliding it down your body.

His fingers followed your curves, making you shiver in delight, before he opened your bra, discarding of it on the floor as well. Turning back around he pushed you onto the mattress, getting rid of your shoes, before he unbuttoned his pants.

Sliding them down followed by his briefs his cock sprung free, making your mouth water at the sight.

You slid off the bed and down on your knees, looking up at him.

His mouth was slightly agape as he stared down at you, fingers brushing through your already disheveled hair.

Smiling you took his cock in one hand, pumping it a few times. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as his head tilted backwards.

Chuckling, your tongue licked from bottom to head, his hand gripping your hair almost painfully at the sensation.

Your tongue circled his sensitive head a few times, brushing through the slit, eliciting a moan from him.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, as your head bobbed up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

He hissed, as his hand started to guide your moves. Saliva dribbled down your chin, but you didn't care. He pushed deeper, making you gag and he groaned, doing it again as he looked down at you.

Tears stung in your eyes, your free hand rubbing your clit. Moaning around his shaft he moaned as well, fucking your mouth.

When he suddenly tugged your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth, he helped you back onto the bed.

"I wanna come inside you." Biting your lip at the thought, you slid up on the bed, him following, after putting on a condom. Lying on top of you again, he kissed you, tongue meeting yours.

His hands roamed your body, body's pressed together. He pumped himself a few times, looking in your eyes as he waited for permission.

Nodding you gave him your okay.

Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you deliciously. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades, as you watched him go deeper and deeper.

When he was fully inside you he waited a moment, before he slowly moved back out, only to ramm back inside you.

Moaning loudly your head tilted backwards, exposing your neck. Kissing down your throat, he started to fuck you.

You fell into a steady rhythm, getting deeper with each thrust. "Fuck, your so tight." he mumbled and you clenched down on him, making him hiss in return.

His lips found yours again, his fingers brushing over your clit causing you to buckle into him. Chuckling, his thumb drew figure eights on it, eliciting even more moans from you.

You were puddy under him, a moaning mess ready to shatter at his hands.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper, as he gained speed. Breathing out his name, you tried to warn him of your impending high.

Smirking, he looked down at you, as he drove you towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he whispered into your ear, and so you did.

Falling of the edge you screamed his name, back arching off the mattress. Clenching around him, pure bliss pulsed through you, blinding you momentarily.

He followed closely, as your clenching did the rest, moaning your name. Riding you through your highs, his lips brushed your pulse point, before he stilled.

Breathing heavily he pulled out, causing you to whimper at the emptiness.

Chuckling he lay down beside you, catching his breath as you did the same.

It was silent for a while, in which he discarded of the condom, before you swallowed, looking at your watch. "Fuck!" you breathed out, causing him to look back at you, brows furrowed.

"I have to get home, otherwise I won't be able to make it to work in time tomorrow." you explained, sending him a crooked smile.

Nodding, seeming a little disappointed though, he sat up. "Yeah, I totally get that." he spoke, standing up and starting to collect your things. You did the same, only then realizing that your panties were somewhere at his front door.

Blushing, you dressed, as he did the same, before he awkwardly walked you to the door, where you picked up your ruined panties.

Huffing a laugh you shook your head, bunching the fabric in your fist. "Uhm, I don't know how to get home." you told him, cheeks reddening even more.

"Right." he nodded, searching for his keys. "I'll drive you." Eyes widening, you looked at him. "Oh, you don't have to do that!" you said, but he shook his head. "I insist on it."

Smiling gratefully you nodded. "Okay, thank you."

The drive to your apartment was a little awkward, but you decided to make the best of it.

"I mean, now that you know where I live, maybe you want to come over sometime?" you offered, biting your lip. "For a round two, you know?"

He chuckled, smiling. "Yeah, maybe."

When you arrived, he made sure you got in safely, before saying goodbye and parting ways.

You hoped he would eventually take you up on your offer. The sex you had only minutes ago, was the best you had in a long time.

When the alarm went off the next morning, you felt like you'd been run over by a bus.

You hadn't slept that much, given the time you were home and lay awake, but you had no other choice than to get up, shower, brush your teeth and get ready.

Driving towards the LAPD your fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel. It was your first day and you didn't know who'd be your TO for the next year.

Would he or she be nice? Or would you get one of those that liked to make their rookies suffer?

Getting inside you made your way to the locker room, changing into your uniform, before walking into the conference room, where the others were already waiting.

Brushing over your neatly done hair, your gaze wandered over the already seated officers, before it abruptly stopped.

There, between two women, sat Tim.

Your one night stand Tim.

Eyes widening you pleaded for him not to turn in your direction, but he did exactly that, like he heard your silent prayer.

His eyes widened as his gaze fell on you, mouth agape.

Cheeks reddening, trying to catch your breath you walked toward the seats in the front row, sitting down.

This couldn't be happening.

Before you could have thought more about it, the watch commander, Sergeant Grey, entered the room.

The other rookies stood up front and you did the same, trying to forget Tim for a moment.

"We got some new blood this morning." Sergeant Grey started, hands on his waist. "After six months together in the academy, you've earned the right to be here, but you'll have to prove yourself to stay. The way we do things matters. Protocol and tradition are the metal, from which every cop in this city is forged."

As he talked, you tried your best not to let your gaze wander towards Tim. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your skin, as you tried to concentrate on Sergeant Grey.

"Understand?" he wanted to know. "Yes, sir." you all gave back. "Sit down." he then told you. You did as you were told, breathing in deeply.

"It's time for playing the officer match game." Grey continued, reading on a paper. "Our contestants are Alec Miller, Y/N Y/L/N and Richard Stevens. And the winners are: Officer Harper, you get Alec Miller. Officer Lopez, you get Richard Stevens. And Officer Bradford, you get Y/N Y/L/N, who's looking like she just saw a ghost."

Laughter erupted, as your gaze fell on Tim. His teeth grit and you got the feeling, that he was Officer Bradford.

"Now hear me: Today is your first day, don't let it be your last." Grey explained, causing your gaze to snap back to him. "Forget the academy, listen to your TO's. They'll teach you the way it should be done. That's it."

You flinched, as his hands made contact with the pult rather loudly.

Again, this couldn't be happening.

Trying to calm your racing heart down, you stood, bracing yourself for meeting your TO.

"Hello boot, I'm Officer Tim Bradford." he introduced himself like you'd never met before, as he stood in front of you. "Nice to meet you, sir." you played along, doing your best not to look away.

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him.

As he told you the basics, like your task to get the bags and stuff, your mind drifted off briefly. He must have noticed, because he stopped talking, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Did you even listen to what I told you the last few minutes?" he wanted to know, his tone cold and harsh. Flinching you nodded. "I did, sir."

Praying for him not to test you about what he explained to you (you probably wouldn't have passed that test), you entered the shop.

He was driving, telling you a few things you had to keep in mind when sitting in the shop. "This is you work place." he told you. Nodding, you buckled up, suppressing a sigh.

This would surely get awkward.

Leaving the garage it grew silent, as he drove and you looked out the window, not sure what to say.

If you were even supposed to say something in the first place.

"You left something in my car." he suddenly broke the silence, not looking at you, though. Racking your brain you tried to remember what he meant, as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Your, uh, your panties." he then said, and you swore his cheeks turned pinkish.

Eyes widening you gasped, not having noticed that your panties were even missing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." you told him, cheeks growing hot. This only made the situation ten times more awkward.

He nodded slightly, swallowing, but didn't say any more.

It crackled, as the radio turned on. "Adam-7-19, we have a 10-67 at Burlington Street." It fell silent again, as Tim grabbed the mic. "Adam-7-19, taking over. Code four." he gave through, changing course.

"Suspicious person." you mumbled to yourself, but he heard you. "Person calling for help." he corrected you harshly. "10-66 is suspicious person. You need to know the codes so you'll be ready when you arrive!"

Brows furrowing you looked at him. "You can't expect me to know every single code already." you gave back, not caring that he was your TO.

He slammed the break - luckily you were on an empty street as your body jerked forward, only being held back by the seat belt.

"What did you just say?" he wanted to know, turning towards you in his seat. "I'm your TO and I rate you every single day. If you don't know the codes correctly, you need to learn them. If you don't know them by next week, you're out."

Mouth agape you stared at him in shock.

He was one of those TO's, that let their rookies suffer.

"Wow." you breathed out, leaning back against the window. "Wouldn't have expected you to be such an asshole, after last night."

You shouldn't have said that.

You really shouldn't.

His hands balled into fists, teeth gritted. You saw that he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes bored holes into yours.

Suddenly he sat back in his seat, starting to drive again.

Cocking a brow you shook your head. Sure, he was your TO, but did he really have to treat you like that?

"Can I ask you a question?" you wanted to know, looking at him as he drove. He simply nodded, motioning for you to go ahead.

"Are you like this with all your rookies?" you wanted to know, elbow resting on the door. "Like what?" he gave back, brows furrowing. "Shall I really repeat myself?" you retorted, cocking a brow at him.

Huffing, he shook his head.

"I treat a rookie based on his needs." he explained. "Wow, last night I was tight, now I'm dumb." you concluded, shaking your head.

His gaze snapped to yours briefly, before it fixed on the street again. "I'm sorry, what?" he wanted to know, sounding almost angry.

Your brows rose, as you bit your lip.

Yeah, definitely shouldn't have said that either.

"Nothing, forget it." you mumbled, fumbling with your belt.

It grew quiet, as you noticed that you might have gone overboard. It was your first day and he had the power to make it your last.

"What happened last night won't repeat." he clarified, not looking at you. Swallowing, you nodded.

Of course it wouldn't. You were his rookie now, after all.

Or boot, like he had called you earlier.

"I would be glad if we could just forget that it happened." he told you. Taking a deep breath you huffed. "Will be hard to find a comparison, though." you spoke without thinking,

Covering your face with your hands, you wanted to apologize for your inability to keep your mouth shut, but he was faster. "Yeah, I know." he mumbled, biting his cheek.

Your brows shot high at his words, biting your lip.

Damn it, he was smoking hot, your one night stand and now he was your trainer as well. Not thinking about the sex you had last night would be hard.

Speaking off, you felt how your cheeks grew hot.

God damn it.

You were doomed.

-> Part two

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #the rookie x u #tim bradford imagine #smut #tim bradford smut

[asdfghjklmals]

LILIES & ROSES 2.0✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestiveness and mentions of sex. WORD COUNT: 4.1k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dad!gojo, mom!oc. established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru celebrate baby gojo's first valentine's day! AUTHOR'S NOTE: happy early valentine's day everyone! sorry i've been so mia. i hope this fic will make up for my absence. the first ‘lilies & roses’ fic was for oc gojo girlfriend’s mother’s day so make sure to read that. 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

you and satoru woke up at exactly 5am to your five-month-old human alarm clock babbling in her snoo.

you felt slender, yet strong arms slide under your shirt to pull you closer, even if it was just for a moment. a quick, welcoming kiss by soft tender lips pressed onto your exposed shoulder blade.

“good morning, sweetheart.” satoru whispered into your ear, finally pulling away from you so he could start his morning routine with his daughter.

you turned to face him, half-awake eyes following each step from his side of the bed to your daughter’s bassinet across the room. you let out a tired sigh.

“there’s daddy’s big girl!” satoru said with a quiet, yet cheery voice. a gummy smile appeared on the face of your 5 month old baby girl. it was a smile that satoru never got tired of seeing.

he reached down to pick up sayuri, holding her close to his chest so that her head could rest on his shoulder. you saw her peeking at you. you shot a soft smile at her as her lips trembled. she wanted mommy right now. and where the hell was her milk?

before sayuri could even let out a cry for you, satoru quickly left the master bedroom and shut the door behind him. this was the start of his morning routine, bonding time with his daughter that he always looked forward to.

and so, you shut your eyes for a couple more minutes before satoru and sayuri would come back with their special delivery, your morning coffee. (read ‘morning routine 2.0’ here)

**********************

“okay, yurs—here’s the game plan,” satoru said to his baby girl, “today is something called valentine’s day. usually mommy and daddy go out on a date and then participate in love-making-physical-activities at night, but since we have you this year, i think we should change it up a little.”

sayuri drooled on satoru’s shoulder, unsure of what her father was babbling on about. she pursed her lips and continued to drool.

“we need to stop by the flower shop first so we can get her a nice big bouquet of ros—i mean lilies. those are your mommy’s favorite flower you know. did you know you’re named after them?” (read 'hello baby' here)

sayuri. sayuri meant ‘small lily’ in japanese. it was the perfect name for your perfect baby girl.

satoru continued on with explaining his plan to his partner in crime, “then—i was thinking that while you take your afternoon nap, i can cook a late lunch for mommy. i haven’t done that for her in a long time.”

satoru stirred sweet creamer into your cup of coffee and smiled. he felt as if his plan was going to be perfect—another successful valentine’s day for satoru gojo in the books.

as he imagined how the day would progress, he warmed up a packet of your stored breast milk for sayuri before she started to fuss. but sayuri gojo was no fool, she knew she was going to be fed in a few moments so she decided to give grace to her trying father. she decided that she’d throw a tantrum later.

**********************

“what do you mean you’re taking sayuri out by yourself?” you frowned after taking a sip of your morning coffee. you had hoped to spend some time with your little family today—it was valentine’s day after all.

last year, you told satoru that you didn’t want to do anything extravagant because you were still in the early stages of your pregnancy. you were nauseas and tired during your first trimester. knowing him, he would have already had a trip to somewhere tropical planned if you hadn’t told him that you wanted to stay home.

satoru mischievously grinned, rubbing salt into your wound, “we are going to have a daddy-daughter date for valentine’s day.”

“what if i wanted to have a mommy-daughter date?” you pouted back at your baby daddy, “it’s our baby girl’s first valentine’s day, can’t we spend it together?”

an imaginary lightbulb lit up above satoru’s head. he did need time to cook for you without you being in the apartment, so maybe you could take sayuri during that time.

“how about you take sayuri out for a couple hours?” satoru suggested, “we’ll be home by 2pm.”

“—but 2pm is her nap time, satoru.”

‘of course you wouldn’t forget about her nap time.’ satoru thought to himself. he shifted his milk-drunk daughter in his arms so he could face you.

“okay, how about this, sweetheart—i’ll take yurs and be home by noon. she can take an early nap, and then you can have her at 3pm. i have an appointment from 3pm-5pm anyways.”

satoru may have lied about having an appointment, but he needed to have an excuse not to be with you and sayuri so he could prepare for your valentine’s day surprise.

“can we celebrate after your appointment?” you asked eagerly. your daughter’s first valentine’s day was important to you. not only was it sayuri’s first, it was yours and satoru’s first as parents.

“of course, sweetheart.” satoru said as he leaned in for a kiss on your forehead, a sneaky grin plastering his face, “we have a tradition to uphold.”

“if sex is the tradition you’re talking about, i swear to—”

a whimpering cry interrupted your empty threat to satoru. sayuri was still hungry. she started to wail as if she was screaming, ‘more food, please!’

“—and that’s my queue to leave,” satoru said as he handed off sayuri to you. he quickly jumped out of the bed to make sayuri another bottle.

you shook your head and chuckled.

“your daddy is so silly,” you looked down at satoru gojo’s mini-me. everything you loved about satoru reflected back at you in your daughter. her slender nose, soft pink lips, and her thin white eyebrows. you had the most perfect child. of course you did, she was satoru gojo’s copy and paste.

“so baby girl—i was thinking that while we go on our mommy-daughter date, we can go see grandpa kiku and grandma fuku. daddy would be devastated if we didn’t get him anything for valentine’s day.”

sayuri looked up at you as you patted her back gently. she felt content being in your arms. it gave her comfort and soothed away any fears she may have had, just like daddy’s—and it was the exact same feelings that satoru felt whenever he was in your arms.

“then we can come back home and spend the night with daddy!” you said excitedly with a giggle, “you have to protect mommy from daddy tonight, okay?”

sayuri gojo wouldn’t understand your joke, but you knew what satoru gojo’s intentions were on a day like valentine’s day.

later that morning

“your mom must be loving the fact that she can sleep in today,” satoru chuckled to his daughter as he opened the glass door to the flower shop.

satoru, you, megumi, and tsumiki have been going to this flower shop ever since you moved to the apartment. at first, it was just convenient for satoru. satoru always bought you flowers whenever he upset you or whenever he wanted to surprise you with them just to see you smile. and now, after years of giving the flower shop owner business, you were regulars—to the point where the owner, mrs. itose, had a customized bouquet on hand made just for you whenever satoru or the kids needed it.

“good morning, satoru! good morning, miss sayuri!” the flower shop owner greeted the father-daughter duo.

satoru smiled, presenting his baby girl, “say hi to grandma itose!”

grandma itose had been around for the growth of yours and satoru’s relationship. she was like family. when you gave birth to sayuri, she sent the world’s most beautiful bouquet of lilies you had ever seen. mrs. itose placed her bets that baby gojo was going to be a girl and because of that, she was one of the first people to know sayuri’s name.

“i’m guessing you’re here for valentine’s day?” the shop owner smiled as she continued to wrap rose bouquets to sell for the day. it was a busy day for mrs. itose.

satoru scratched the back of his head and grinned, “that obvious?”

“don’t you worry, satoru. i have (y/n)’s bouquet ready for you.” mrs. itose said with a smug, yet confident grin. she wiped off her hands on a towel and walked to the back of the shop, disappearing for a moment.

satoru watched sayuri as her small, curious eyes scanned the store. her eyes were always full of wonder. she gave a gummy smile to the shop owner who smiled back at her while holding your large bouquet of lilies and roses and a smaller bouquet of lilies alongside it.

“what’s that small bouquet for?” satoru asked, knowing he didn’t order a small bouquet.

mrs. itose smacked satoru’s shoulder, “not only do you have (y/n) to buy flowers for, but you have to buy them for your daughter too!”

satoru’s heart sank. he felt guilty that he didn’t even think about buying his mini-me, his adorable little girl, a bouquet for valentine’s day. he now had two girls in his life to think about.

“i didn’t even think about that before we had sayuri.” he sheepishly admitted, giving sayuri an apologetic kiss to her chubby cheek.

“being a girl dad will make you realize a lot of things.” mrs. itose teased, “a reflection of how you treat (y/n) is a guideline to how sayuri will expect to be treated by her significant other when she grows up.”

the thought of sayuri growing up, dating, and eventually getting married gave satoru the chills. he didn’t even want to think about it. all he knew was that whoever his daughter ended up loving, they better love her the way he loved you.

“grandma itose, thank you for teaching me how to be a good dad. and you’ve always helped me be a good partner to (y/n).” satoru said with appreciation. mrs. itose was always a listening ear when he would pick up flowers after an argument.

the shop owner smiled warmly at satoru and sayuri, “have a happy valentine’s day, you two.”

satoru held the two bouquets up with his cursed technique and paid the shop owner double the amount of what the flowers actually costed. he made sure to leave before mrs. itose could say anything.

“say bye to grandma itose, yurs.” satoru sang as he held sayuri’s arm to wave goodbye.

next year, he would make sure to remember to order flowers for his precious little lily too.

later that afternoon

“i bet your daddy wishes he could be here with us.” you sang smugly as you pushed sayuri’s nuna stroller down the familiar streets of tokyo. “he loves seeing grandpa kiku and grandma fuku.”

sayuri was bundled up warmly in her swaddle, enjoying the stroller ride. her view was a beautiful you. your long black hair flowed behind you in the wind, green eyes sparkling as you looked on ahead. sayuri looked at you just like satoru did. with awe.

“i’m sorry you had to change your nap time today.” you apologized, “mommy couldn’t help it. she wanted to spend time with you too.”

you weren’t mad at the fact that satoru and sayuri always got to spend time together, in fact, you loved that they had a bond. it was more of the thought that one day, your baby girl wouldn’t need her mother anymore.

you made your way to the kikufuku stand that you and satoru had been visiting since you were high schoolers. the stall owners recognized you immediately and rushed towards you.

grandma fuku called out your names excitedly, “(y/n)! sayuri!”

“hi mrs. fuku.” you laughed, knowing exactly what she wanted. you picked up sayuri and placed her in grandma fuku’s arms as she cooed at your baby.

grandpa kiku and grandma fuku were family, just like grandma itose. you remembered the moment when your belly started showing during your pregnancy. you wanted to surprise and visit grandma fuku to see if she would notice. grandma fuku was so excited when she realized you were pregnant, she wanted to close to shop immediately so she could sit down and talk to you about motherhood. that day, even grandpa kiku ended up giving satoru a lecture on how to be a good husband and that being a dad changes your entire life.

you were grateful for the kikufuku stand couple. they had been there for you and satoru when you were both in high school. their kikufuku stand was where you and satoru had your first date, and many more dates after that. they had become important parts of your lives and you hoped that they would be in your daughter’s too. (read 'love at first fight' here)

“grandpa kiku packed up all of satoru’s favorites.” grandma fuku said with a smile as she held sayuri in her arms. your baby enjoyed being held by anyone—she was a friendly baby, just like her friendly father.

grandpa kiku called out with a grin, “we figured one of you two would be here to pick these up.”

he held out a pink box of kikufuku towards you, all in satoru’s favorite flavors. you placed them in sayuri’s stroller and quickly paid the shop owners a generous amount of money, far more than what the sweet treat was actually worth. it was the least you could do for them after all these years of satoru terrorizing their kikufuku stand.

a visit to the kikufuku shop with sayuri always lasted longer than expected. they always wanted to hold her and talk about how she was doing. in a blink of an eye, an hour had already passed. you had to meet satoru back at home.

“on our next day off, satoru and i will bring sayuri.” you promised as you placed sayuri back into her stroller.

“that would be great! happy valentine’s day, (y/n) and sayuri! tell satoru we said hi!” the shop owners called out to you.

you gave them a bright smile and waved back, “we will! happy valentine’s day! don’t work too hard!”

“make sure to have lots of babies for me!” grandma fuku made sure to add.

you laughed at her request. you were pretty sure satoru’s sobo and your grandma wanted the same thing too. but for now, you and satoru wanted to enjoy the time you had with your little accident, sayuri.

at the gojo/(l/n) apartment

on your way home, a burning smell wafted through the apartment hallways, worrying you.

“is your father already home?” you asked your daughter as if she could answer you. you already knew it was satoru, you could sense his cursed energy residuals.

you typed in the code to the pin pad lock and pushed sayuri’s stroller in. the burning smell was coming from your kitchen.

“babe, are you okay…?” you called out.

“goddamn it—oh hi sweetheart!” satoru turned around attempting to mask his apparent frustration, he sucked on his thumb that he burned while attempting to grab something from the oven.

“did you burn yourself?”

“yes…” he mumbled, “can you come kiss it better?”

you laughed at how much of a baby the strongest sorcerer could be.

“let me grab sayuri, run it under cold water first.”

while you picked up sayuri from her stroller, satoru obediently ran his thumb under the kitchen faucet, the icy cold water soothing his burn.

you approached him from behind with sayuri attached to your hip, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“you okay, babe?” you attempted to stifle a laugh.

satoru pouted and answered dramatically, “no, i might just die right now, it hurts so bad.” as a jujutsu sorcerer, you were pretty sure he’s felt worse than a simple cooking burn.

“hold her,” you demanded while you handed your daughter off to her father, “give me your hand.”

he quickly put his hand in yours. the red spot on his thumb was starting to blister. you focused your reversed cursed technique onto his burn, water appearing from the air to cover the spot on his thumb. when you released your technique, it was as if the burn never happened.

sayuri blinked in awe as she watched you and satoru. sayuri gojo was born with cursed energy, but you and satoru didn’t know what her innate cursed technique was yet. was it limitless from the gojo clan? or was it an elemental technique from your clan?

“you’re such a baby, satoru.” you teased, “you can use reversed cursed energy yourself but for some reason, you always come to me to heal you.”

“guilty as charged.” satoru grinned before pulling you in for a kiss, “i’ll always be your baby.”

you pulled away from him, biting your lip with a seductive grin. curious sayuri leaned towards the kitchen, grabbing your attention. you turned to stare at the oven, “so what happened to my kitchen?”

“i tried to make us dinner but i forgot about the food in the oven while i was cleaning and decorating.” satoru said, face palming his forehead.

you turned to look at the decorations satoru was talking about. a large bouquet of lilies and roses and a smaller one sat on the glass dining table, rose petals decorated the floor with candles lit all around the kitchen and living room area. it reminded you of your 25th birthday. (read ‘forget me not’ here)

you blinked twice. you didn’t even notice how clean the apartment was or all the valentine’s day decorations that satoru put up when you first came through the door. the burning smell must’ve distracted you.

you walked over to the patio door to open it, airing out the burnt smell and smoke. as you made your way back to satoru, he sunk into the couch, white cushions engulfing him, sayuri sitting on his chest. she gently patted his chest as if she was consoling him.

“what’s wrong?” you asked with concern.

satoru crest-fallen, mumbled, “i had the perfect valentine’s day planned out for us, but i burnt our dinner.”

“the only thing that matters is that our apartment isn’t burnt down.” you giggled.

“but sweetheart, i wanted today to be perfect.”

“it’s already perfect,” you smiled at him and then at your daughter, “i have my perfect man, my perfect baby, and you got me flowers. what more could i ask for?”

“a perfect dinner?” satoru added sarcastically.

you shot a glare at him before grabbing his chin with your hand, positioning his face to look straight at you.

“what were you cooking anyways?”

“a prime rib roast.”

you really would’ve enjoyed that prime rib roast today, but you had to save satoru’s pride. satoru gojo couldn’t be perfect at everything.

“it’s fine, who cares about a roast!” you bluffed while letting go of his chin, “how about we get take out from sushi go?”

“not splendid sushi?” satoru asked, knowing that you liked splendid sushi, while his favorite was sushi go.

“no, we can get sushi go tonight.” you said with a smile in hopes that it would make satoru feel better, “and before i forget, sayuri and i got you something for valentine’s day.”

sayuri babbled while attempting to eat the buttons of satoru’s dress shirt. she reached for satoru face as he playfully nipped at her stubby fingers with his mouth.

you made your way back to the couch with satoru's box of kikufuku. a smile crept back on his face. he couldn’t stay mad if a box of his favorite sweets were being presented to him by an extremely captivating and beautiful woman.

“my girls went to see grandpa kiku and grandma fuku without me?” he teased, squeezing and poking at sayuri’s chubby cheeks.

“mhmm.” you laughed, “we had to make sure we didn’t forget about daddy on our mommy-daughter date.”

“speaking of forgetting… you know what mrs. itose said to me today?”

you tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue on with his story.

“she said whenever i buy flowers for you, i should buy some for yurs too. she mentioned that how i treat you is gonna be a guideline on how sayuri is going to expect to be treated from her significant other when she grows up.”

“well, mr. satoru gojo, it’s a good thing you take very good care of me and treat me very well.” you smiled back at him, eyes full of adoration for the love of your life—and the father of your child.

satoru added, “—and don’t forget i love you very much.”

you snuck a kiss on satoru's cheek, “i love you too, babe.”

you looked back at the flowers sitting on the dining table. mrs. itose’s work was beautiful. you have never received a subpar bouquet from her and satoru. you spotted sayuri’s baby bouquet, noticing hers exclusively had lilies.

“i like how baby girl gets a bouquet of just lilies but mine still have roses in there even though you know lilies are my favorite flower.” (read ‘lilies & roses’ here)

“it’s an inside joke for us now. it’d be weird if you didn’t have roses in your bouquet.” satoru chuckled as sayuri laid on his chest, looking up at you. you admired the sweet sight, your child and your lover both looking back at you with the same eyes you loved so much.

“so how about that take out order?” satoru asked with his fingers on the speed dial for sushi go.

“don’t forget my salmon nigiri!”

EXTRA:

“i’m exhausted,” satoru huffed as he laid down on his side of the bed, his arm covering his eyes and forehead.

he had spent the last two hours cleaning the oven from the failed prime rib dinner while you and sayuri went through her night routine. (read ‘grateful for you’ here)

“too tired for your love-making activities?” you asked curiously, wondering if the baby blue lingerie set you wore under your robe tonight was going to go to waste.

“for once in my life, i think i am.” satoru sighed.

you pouted, “that’s a shame. i bought the cutest lingerie set just for you. it has a garter and everything!”

satoru sat up, interested in what you had to say. “well, when you put it that way… how about you show me? is it see through? is it edible? does it have ease of access?”

you giggled at his silly questions. he pulled you into his lap as he starting to unravel your robe, tracing kisses along your collarbone, the sensation tickling you.

you sensed a familiar cursed energy waver. immediately, you put your hands on satoru’s chest, stopping him from his ministrations.

“what is it?” he asked impatiently as he bit at your hands.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “you don’t sense it? she’s gonna cry, daddy.”

satoru was hoping in all honestly that sayuri would self soothe and fall back asleep on her own.

you heard sayuri whimpering. her whimpering turned into a full on cry, your motherly instincts were spot on.

“oh come on, yurs…” satoru groaned.

“maybe next friday we can get a hotel room.” you laughed, knowing that megumi would be home for the weekend to babysit. (read ‘date night vs. babysitting night’ here)

you wrapped your robe around yourself again and stepped out of bed to comfort your crying baby. you carried your fussing daughter to the king sized bed that you and satoru shared, placing her right in the middle between you and the white haired sorcerer.

“you can sleep with mommy and daddy tonight.” you said softly as you patted sayuri gently, coaxing her to fall asleep again.

“nice one, yurs,” satoru chuckled. he noticed sayuri had stopped crying and fell right back asleep as soon as she laid in the bed with the two of you. “saving your innocent mommy from your monstrous daddy, huh?”

you laughed, remembering how you had asked sayuri to protect you from satoru earlier. satoru turned to face you and sayuri. the both of you watched as she breathed in and out, her tiny body relaxing and sleeping so peacefully in the presence of the two of you. your heart swelled watching her, she was the best thing to ever happen to you and satoru.

“happy valentine’s day, sayuri and mommy.” satoru whispered across his sleeping daughter.

you looked down at your baby girl before smiling back at satoru, “happy valentine’s day, sayuri and daddy.”

© 2024 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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[parkerslatte]

Finding Home || Part Two

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: After spending the whole night talking with Y/N, Azriel is summoned to Rhys’s office where he has a very particular set of mission for him.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The morning after Azriel left Y/N’s apartment, he left with a wide smile on his face. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t constantly surrounded by their mate or have a child run up to them halfway through the conversation and completely take their attention away. For the first time in a while, Azriel was fully relaxed while having a conversation. Even as he made his way to Rhys’s office, he still held that relaxation within his body. Even if he had fallen asleep on her sofa with his wings tucked tightly to his body, the shadowsinger had never slept so soundly. The only thing that awoke him was the tap of Rhys against his mental shields demanding his attention. 

Azriel knocked on the door to Rhys’s office and faintly heard him calling him in. Azriel stepped inside and found Rhys sitting at his desk looking exhausted. Usually Rhys took pride in his appearance but as he sat behind his desk still in his satin pyjamas, Azriel couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh. 

“Long night?” Aziel commented, sitting in the chair opposite. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Rhys answered. 

Normally Azriel would ask him what kept him up all night but this time he didn’t, only knowing that it would be one of two answers. Feyre or Nyx. Deciding not to ask, Azriel instead asked a different question. “Why did you ask me to come here?”

Why did you pull me away from the one place I could truly be relaxed? That was the question Azriel really wanted to ask.

“Ah, that,” Rhys said. “Well we were all worried about you last night.”

“Oh,” Azriel said, deflating a little in his chair. 

“You were there one moment and when Elain turned around to ask if you wanted to hold Hycinth again, you were gone,” Rhys said. 

The suspicions Azriel had about no one noticing he left were confirmed. Azriel could always escape somewhere undetected but late night he made sure that his footsteps were heard. He made sure he opened the front door a little louder than normal. And he made sure to close it with more force than necessary. If anyone was paying any attention they would have easily heard that he had left. Clearly no one was paying any attention to him at all. 

“I just wanted to go home,” Azriel answered. “Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

“Weren’t you enjoying yourself?” Rhys countered.

There was a brief moment of hesitation from Azriel before he answered. “I was, I was just tired. I hadn’t had much sleep the night before.” It was a bad lie and Azriel knew it. Rhys could immediately see through the lie too, but to save Azriel from explaining himself further, Rhys didn’t question him on it. 

“Was that all you needed?” Azriel asked. 

“No,” Rhys said and threw a file across the desk to Azriel.

“What is this? Another mission,” Azriel asked, picking it up.

“Of sorts,” Rhys said.

Azriel opened the file and stared at it, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “‘Have a beach day?’, ‘Feed the ducks?’, ‘Go to the theatre?’. What is this, Rhys?” 

“These are personal missions for you,” Rhys answered. “Myself, as well as Cassian and the others have all noticed how absent you have been recently–”

“I have been on missions–”

“Not physically,” Rhys said. “Mentally. You barely talk to anyone unless you are spoken to. You don’t tease Cassian for a stupid comment he makes. You don’t even play with Nyx as much as you used to. Last night he asked why you don’t take him to the park anymore.”

“I–” Azriel cut himself off because he didn’t have an answer. Everything Rhys said was true.

“These missions are for you to try and enjoy yourself,” Rhys explained. “Do them in whatever order you like, but in three months' time, if I don’t see all of them ticked off, I won’t be very happy, Azriel.”

Azriel looked down at the list. There were thirty things on it ranging from small things like cooking a meal for himself to large things like jumping from the tallest mountain in The Night Court and seeing how long it takes for him to open his wings to fly.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Rhys, I don’t need to do these things. I am perfectly fine.” Another lie. Rhys once again didn’t mention it. 

“Three months, Azriel,” Rhys said and stood from his chair. “Now, I have my mate waiting for me upstairs. We have about twenty minutes before Nyx wakes up.”

Azriel didn’t respond with a teasing remark like he usually does. Of course Rhys can’t even stay for a moment longer to just talk to Azriel. If he had only decided to stay for a few moments longer, Azriel might have opened up to him. All Azriel did was stare at the file in front of him, failing to notice Rhys’s lingering gaze on him before we swiftly left his office. 

Three months to do thirty tasks and most of them were downright stupid. Though Azriel had to admit that some of them sounded appealing, he guessed that those would have been either Feyre, Nesta or Elain’s idea. Azriel would prefer if Rhys sent him on a mission, preferably a long one. Then he maybe wouldn’t need to spend every waking moment around happy and in love couples. 

With a sigh, Azriel stood to his feet and allowed his shadows to encase him, taking him somewhere else. 

***

Y/N stepped out of her apartment and into the cool air, her thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She was tired and had a dull ache in her neck from falling asleep on her sofa at an awkward angle. Though she wouldn’t have changed one moment from her night. Y/N never would have thought that being in the company of the shadowsinger would be pleasant but it had to be one of her favourite Solstice’s. No large spectacle, just two friends– if that is what Y/N could call their relationship– sitting together and talking. 

The air was cold and Y/N wrapped her coat tighter around her body. It was a large effort from Y/N to leave her apartment, the only driving force was her needing milk and she regretted not picking it up the previous night when she bumped into Azriel. 

She wondered how he was doing. When he woke that morning he seemed deflated and in a rush to leave. Of course he reassured her that it was nothing to do with her. In fact, he told her that the night they had spent just sitting and talking was the best night he had had in a while. When he rushed out that morning, Y/N wanted to call out to him to ask if he wanted to get a coffee or something similar. But as she went to speak the words died on her tongue, it was too much like asking him on a date. 

As Y/N stepped away from the door of her apartment, she collided with a firm chest and a familiar scent surrounded her. Strong arms shot out to keep her upright before being retracted away quickly as if touching her had burnt. 

“Y/N,” Azriel’s smooth voice chimed through the air around her. He still wore the same clothes he had left in only hours before. This time he held a file in his hand that she knew he didn’t have when he left her apartment. 

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he apologised. “I didn’t even mean to come back here.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped the smallest amount at Azriel’s revelation. He hadn’t wanted to come back to her. Maybe not asking him for coffee was a good idea.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, trying not to let the disappointment lace her tone. “Did you leave anything inside? I can get it for you.”

“No, no,” Azriel said. “And I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to come back here. I did want to believe me. I just didn’t think I would come back here unconsciously.” There was a slight blush adorning Azriel’s cheeks that made Y/N laugh. His head shot up at the sound. 

“What?” He asked, a small smile spreading across his face.

“It’s cute when you are flustered,” Y/N said, which only caused the blush on his cheeks to deepen. “So, what’s up with the file? It looks…official.”

Azriel scoffed quietly. “It’s far from that.”

Azriel thrust the file forward and Y/N took it hesitantly. “Should I even be reading this? I’m not exactly part of this court’s politics.”

“Just read it,” Azriel said, his voice soft. 

Y/N opened the file and she immediately started to chuckle. “‘Feed a duck’?”

Azriel groaned. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s funny,” Y/N replied and continued to look down the list. “What exactly is this for?”

“Rhys and the others thought it would be a good idea for me to enjoy myself because they have noticed I have distanced myself lately,” Azriel explained. 

Y/N raised her gaze from the paper in front of her to Azriel’s. His eyes bore into hers and she could feel the frustration residing in them. 

“I don’t see how any of this is going to help,” Azriel said. “All of these tasks are pointless.”

“Some of them seem fun,” Y/N tried to reason. 

“On my own?” Azriel replied. “The whole reason why I’ve been feeling like this is because I feel alone. It is because I have no one to do anything with. Now they have set me tasks that make sure I am on my own.”

“I can do them with you,” Y/N answered quickly, not thinking about Azriel’s possible responses. 

A look of surprise briefly flashed across Azriel’s face before it returned to his neutral one. His eyes jumped from Y/N’s to the file in her hands. “You don’t need to do them with me. It’s my mission and I won’t drag you along with me.”

Y/N smiled. “I wouldn’t class feeding the ducks as a mission, Azriel. And most of these seem fun. ‘Have a beach day’? I’ve never been to a beach. Oh, and go to the theatre! I love the theatre! These are fun, Azriel!”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though Y/N could see him trying to fight away a smile. “Would you really do them with me? You only met me last night.”

Y/N shrugged. “Well they seem fun and this is the perfect way for us to get to know one another.”

Azriel looked at the file in her hands and he allowed the smile he had been fighting away to  break out on his face. Y/N felt her insides melt at the sight. His smile lit up his whole face. Any feeling that had been present on his face before instantly vanished and was replaced by undeniable happiness.

“Thank you for doing this with me, Y/N,” Azriel said sincerely. “So where should we start?”

Y/N pointed to number seven on the list. “Number seven, get some coffee.”

Azriel smiled before taking the file away from Y/N and folded it away, he offered his arm to Y/N and she took it. It felt natural. 

“Lead the way, shadowsinger,” Y/N replied and the two were off down the street. The milk Y/N originally set off to purchase was completely abandoned.

Taglist:

@justdreamstars @naturakaashi @thesunloveschips @hijabi-desi-bookworm

- strike through could not be tagged -

#azriel fluff #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets Part 2

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: What a pleasant life it is, to be a widow with no obligations. Getting new dresses, making unlikely friends, what a treat.

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: 18+!!! MINORS DNI (I will haunt you)

Warnings: female masturbation, yearning, Reader decidedly hates Anthony (what's new??) , maybe a bit of angst

A/N: oops my hands slipped and this is what happened. sorry bout that, bruv!

first part - next part

—

“You should have seen him, Meg.”

Her lady’s maid nodded along to Lady Barlow’s rant, having heard the interaction in nauseam since she returned from the park. From his appearance to his demeanor—Meg assumed she might as well have been there. Carefully, she continued to remove the pins from the dowager viscountess’ hair, the very same that she had placed in the morning. 

“I am sure Lord Bridgerton was certainly unagreeable,” Meg droned, accidentally snagging her lady’s hair. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, I am a perfectly capable woman,” (Y/N) laughed, looking at her maid in the mirror. “And he was, unagreeable, if you must know.”

“He is alway unagreeable,” Meg said, exasperated. “My lady, please take no offense, but I think this talk of Lord Bridgerton must cease.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” (Y/N) snorted. “I wish for nothing more than to stop speaking about that oaf.”

Meg blinked. “Right. Of course.”

“You… you do not believe me?”

“I believe you believe it to be true,” Meg carefully stated, hands by her sides. “We have a good friendship, ma’am, and I am ever grateful that you allow me to speak my mind—”

“So speak it,” (Y/N) said, voice tittering on a giggle. “I shall not take offense, I swear it.”

“You have done nothing but speak of Lord Bridgerton since you arrived from your visit to the park,” Meg began, choosing her words carefully. “Save for when you had your meals, hard to speak over soup and the like. I, for one, am exhausted hearing about it. Perhaps a respite from the topic?”

“Imagine how I feel,” (Y/N) finally laughed. “That man makes me insane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I pray whenever he marries—oh that poor woman—I hope she can teach him some manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perhaps I should send him a book on it? Manners, I mean.”

“Good idea, ma’am.”

“Meg, you are not hearing me.”

“Oh I am hearing you,” Meg nodded. “I am just choosing not to listen.”

She bit her lip, eyeing her friend’s faraway glance. Glassy, almost. “Perhaps… I suppose I should drop the topic for now?”

“It is late,” Meg shook her head, nearly dropping out of a trance. “I have mending to attend to, if you do not mind.”

“You hate the mending.”

“Picking and choosing my battles, ma’am,” Meg smiled politely. 

“Admirable,” (Y/N) said. “I suppose it is late…”

“Might I fetch you some more tea before you retire?” She set the last pin down amongst the vanity. Covered in expensive oils and products, it’s a wonder that anyone could find anything at all on the surface. Thank God Meg knew the contents like the back of her hand.

“No… I fear it will keep me up all night, but thank you, truly,” (Y/N) said. 

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And then, she was alone. 

Snuffing her candle, she hopped into her bed. Thankfully she never shared this one with Lord Barlow—that was reserved in the wing across the estate—leaving this bed untouched by such a soiled man. It was pleasantly plush and covered in endless pillows, she wondered if the royal princesses slept in beds as nice as this one—nicer, probably. More pillows, if she had to wager.

Sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes focused on the ceiling, she tried to chase sleep. Her mother had taught her a trick when she was young, imagining rabbits chasing around the room and counting those—perhaps it was sheep? Regardless, she tried counting. She only made it to twenty nine before flipping onto her side, exasperated by the count. 

Sleep never came.

The covers melted off of her body in an instant, floating over to her door to ensure it was locked. Quietly, oh-so quietly, she turned the latch. No need for the staff to interrupt her… sleep. She hardly had to turn to such matters, but when exhaustion cycled her brain and not her body, leaving her tossing and turning all night, she really had no other choice. 

No other choice, she reminded herself. 

She laid on top of the covers this time, rabbits and sheep all but forgotten.

If there was to be one positive of marrying, it was the sheer fact that she was able to fully understand her body as a woman. While the marital act itself was entirely loathsome—a chore with Lord Barlow that happened infrequently during their marriage to try for an heir—the act of doing it alone? 

Why the idea alone just got her heart pounding. 

She never had anyone to teach her these things, her mother passed before her marriage, so there was no ‘wedding night talk’. Everything that Lady Barlow had learned was from her sheer will and determination—a chase for something she never quite knew she was racing towards. Her husband? He had never been any help. A few grunts and thrusts before he would spend himself inside, collapsing on top of her for the night. 

She refused to give her late husband much thought—not when her hands were on her breasts, one slinking lower to touch a more delicate area. 

No. She needed to focus her thinking on something else. Something to get the job done, send her to sleep sooner than later. 

The gentleman. The faceless one that she imagined in place of her own hands. It usually sped things along if she focused on a generally well-looking fellow and how he’d touch her instead of just chasing her own feelings with her fingertips. Saved her wrists a lot of pain too—occasionally she felt like she was back practicing her penmanship, writing lines all day with her governess—the ache was fairly similar. Although, one pain caused a higher embarrassment than the other.

Decidedly happy with her diversion of thought, she made quick work on the bottom of her nightdress and pulled it up to her stomach. (Y/N) had never the need to sleep with drawers, feeling a dress was more than enough. Besides, it gave her easy access on nights like tonight. Her fingers danced with her lower lips, already damp with arousal. 

She sighed at the first contact, the pure ecstasy of running her fingertips across her glistening folds. In her mind, he was doing this to her, the nameless man who wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. With slow and tantalizing circles, she teased her clit, gasps leaving her lips involuntarily, her eyes rolling shut before she could even think. Her non-dominant hand continued to grasp at her breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh until she was utterly mindless. 

The climb was thrilling, it was suffocating and all encompassing. How she dreamed she could experience this with someone, feel this pleasure with another, both giving and taking exactly what the other needed. She groaned again, feeling herself getting closer to the edge, her circles faster now, the gentleman making good work on her neglected center. 

“Gods,” (Y/N) cried, trying her very best to keep her voice down. She didn’t need Meg inquiring about her, not when she was so worked up and so, so close.

And then… the fall. Everything was white and her heart felt like it was bound to beat out of her chest.     

Brown eyes.

As she fell into a peaceful slumber, for no reason in particular, she decided her faceless gentleman had brown eyes. 

—

Breaking her fast was usually rewarding, the chefs at Barlow Estate were some of the most talented in the ton—of course, only in her humble opinion, not that she had much to compare it to. When she first married Lord Barlow, having such fulfilling meals first thing in morning was almost worth marrying such an oaf. Almost.

“Did you have a good sleep, ma’am?” A butler asked, taking (Y/N)’s empty plate, replacing it with one full of fresh cut fruit.

“Oh!” Her face flushed. “Y-yes, James, of course. I always have a pleasant sleep.”

“You look well rested, ma’am,” he nodded.

“My lady,” Meg spoke up, gaining the attention of Lady Barlow from her fruit. “You have an appointment at the modiste early this afternoon.”

“I don’t recall making an appointment,” (Y/N) held her hand still, half of an apple tight in her grasp.

“I made the appointment, ma’am,” Meg said. “You are in need of new dresses—” 

“Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

“Of course not,” Meg said quickly, her face growing slightly pink. “It is just, since the late Lord Barlow passed you have been in mourning attire—blacks, blues, the entire dreary ensemble. I figured it would be best to get dresses that suited more the colors of the season.”

“I am unsure if you noticed,” (Y/N) said, taking a small bite of her apple. She chewed it quickly. “But my dress today is green.”

“I did notice,” Meg nodded politely. “It is a lovely color, but perhaps a lighter blue would be nice? A purple?”

“Perhaps you should listen to her, ma’am,” James interjected. “The family account has not been used since after your wedding and the mourning attire—”

“And I can use that money elsewhere,” (Y/N) raised her brow. “I’m sure the new viscount will be pleased I am not blowing his money so frivolously, I do not see the need for new dresses.”

Meg sighed, giving James a trying look. He shrugged. “Humor me. Just one dress.”

“Fine. One dress."

Somehow, between the carriage ride to the modiste and the tailoring of a beautiful purple display piece, Lady (Y/N) Barlow was talked into three new dresses. A sharp pinprick to her left leg brought her back to her senses. 

“Oh! Lady Barlow, I do apologize,” Madame Delacroix said. “You must keep still as I pin your hems."

“I will try my best,” (Y/N) smiled, glancing down at the woman working hard on her new dress. “How fortunate the display dress you had fits so well.”

“Oui, how fortunate,” Madame Delacroix nodded. “A few pins and stitches and it will be perfect. And this color is very flattering—I am certain the men of the ton will turn their heads at this.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I have no need to turn heads, Madame,” (Y/N) said curtly. “I am simply just refreshing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, no one has the need to turn heads, save for the young ladies,” Madame Delacroix giggled, it sounded almost fake, forced. “But my work will do that regardless, so do expect that Lady Barlow.”

“Joy,” (Y/N) sighed, tilting her head at her reflection. While it hadn’t been an extraordinarily long time since she debuted—a shake over three years at the most—she was no longer the young girl from her first season. Her curves have filled out, her features more defined, so this particular cut was suiting her just fine. Madame Delacroix was the best modiste for a reason, knowing just how to make the ladies of the ton sparkle.

The front door swung open, a sea of blue flooding in the entryway. “Ah, Lady Bridgerton, I shall be with you in a moment!” Madame Delacroix called out.

(Y/N) froze at the mere mention of the Bridgerton name.

“Take your time, Madame,” Lady Bridgerton cooed, practically shoving a book of fabrics in her daughter’s face. Eloise, (Y/N) recalls, the second eldest daughter of the brood. It was her first season. “We’ll be patient.”

“Shall I pull another dress, Lady Barlow?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head wildly. “I rather think I am finished for this afternoon. Please add the dresses to my account—”

“Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton said kindly. “How lovely it is to see you.”

Fuck.

“Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) curtsied, feeling far too proper. “Likewise.”

“What a lovely color that is on you,” she said, eying the girl up and down. “I take it you are out of mourning then, yes?”

“Have been since the Danbury Ball,” (Y/N) nodded. “But I gather Lady Whistledown has already made that public knowledge.” 

Lady Bridgerton's cheeks flushed, like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar. “I cannot say that I find myself reading that gossip rag often, but—”

“Oh Mother,” Eloise groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “You read Whistledown just as often as I.”

“I do not blame you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) quickly added. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “For the many months I was in mourning and not socializing, Whistledown was my way I could keep up with everything. I very much would like to thank her, should I ever get the opportunity.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “In any case, if you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, would you like to join me for tea?”

“Tea?”

“I remember how it felt when—” she stopped herself, eyes becoming glassy. “Becoming a widow so suddenly is difficult. I would like to bestow my wisdom upon you if you’d allow it.”

“You are not quite old enough to be bestowing wisdom,” (Y/N) laughed lightly.

“I beg to differ,” Eloise mumbled.

“Flattery, Lady Barlow, will get you everywhere,” Lady Bridgerton smiled, elbowing her daughter lightly. “And you already have the invite, no need to lay it on so thick.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

“So, shall we say noon tomorrow?”

The Bridgertons, as Lady Barlow gathered, were a difficult lot to say no to.

“Noon. Sounds perfect.”

—

It felt odd, being in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. She only ever had the fleeting thought that she’d ever sit here the once—ages ago during her first season. Now? Now she was sitting and drinking tea with Lady Bridgerton as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“You have a lovely home,” (Y/N) said, holding her teacup a little tighter than she should. 

“Thank you,” Lady Bridgerton said voice full of appreciation. “Tell me, Lady Barlow, how is your family?”

“My family?”

“Oh, forgive me for asking,” Lady Bridgerton clarified. “I just had realized that I know very little about you, you were only in the season for such a short time before you married. I figured your family was a good place to start.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) put the cup down. “I understand. Seeing as everyone knows about your family,” Lady Bridgerton chuckled at that, “I should only fill in some blank spaces, I suppose.”

The elder dowager nodded her head, tipping her cup at the younger widow to continue.

“No family, I’m afraid,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering on sad. “Mother passed a few years before my debut, Father just last year. No siblings, so… just me I’m afraid.”

“Goodness,” Lady Bridgerton pressed a hand to her heart. “Your father and husband in the same year? I am truly sorry for your losses.”

“My mother was the true loss,” she said honestly, her voice practically lifting. “Kindest soul to grace this Earth, I mourn her every day. The others? I do not doubt anyone has missed them.”

“Lord Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “He was an odious man. When I had heard he had taken another wife—it was quite the story around the ton. I was beside myself.”

“I happen to be number three,” (Y/N) said matter-of-factly. “Number One and Two both died in childbirth, trying to give that man his beloved heir. Never worked out, and I cannot say I am crestfallen I never came to be with child, either. The new Lord Barlow is quite well suited for the role regardless, I am told, so I suppose it has worked out for the best.”

“Yes,” Lady Bridgerton had a small smile against her lips, “I can imagine so.”

“Does your son,” (Y/N) coughed, correcting herself, “Lord Bridgerton, does he know I am here for tea?”

“Oh my son is not always privy to my social calendar,” the older woman winked. “He is probably out galavanting and trying to find a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Bridgerton nearly beamed. “Lord Bridgerton is finally looking to marry—even after all these years of begging him. Something just clicked last season, I suppose. Perhaps Daphne, the duchess, marrying finally gave him the right idea?”

(Y/N) nodded politely. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“I only wish for the best for all eight of my children,” she nodded, “so seeing him look to marry makes me ever hopeful.” 

“Mhm,” (Y/N) sank into more of her cup, polishing it off.

The grand clock ticked away. 

“I apologize if this all makes you uncomfortable Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton started. “It is just… when Edmund passed, I had my family and wonderful friends to support me. I figured, perhaps, having another friend would not be the worst thing?”

“Lady Bridgerton, you are very kind for checking in with me, and I very much appreciate this tea,” (Y/N) said honestly. She felt like she could jump out of her skin with anxiety, but tried her very best to keep it under control. “But… as you had alluded, it is no secret that Lord Barlow and I were not a love match. There is no need—”

“Being a widow is hard,” Lady Bridgerton cut her off. “It is rotten work and you feel like a shell of yourself, only having a title such as ours because of who we married and not in our own right. Tell me, do you plan on remarrying?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am quite content with my life,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “Widows have all the freedom in the world, I am allowed many opportunities because of it—far more than when I was simply a little thing on the Marriage Mart.”

“I suppose that would be… correct,” Lady Bridgerton treaded lightly. “However, do you not wish for a family? The support of another?”

“It is not that I do not wish for a family,” (Y/N) said truthfully. “I am sure part of me does, but it is more the matter of everything that comes with it.”

“I could never imagine going about life alone,” Lady Bridgerton said. “After Edmund… I am just grateful my children were here to keep me sane, grounded, even.”

“Children can be a blessing…”

“But children,” Lady Bridgerton added quickly, “they are not for everyone. I hope you find happiness in whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” the young viscountess said sincerely. “You have such a wonderful life, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet,” she corrected. “Please, call me Violet.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s cheeks darkened. “Violet, then.”

“We are friends now, after all,” Violet smiled kindly, the kind of smile only a mother possessed. She waved for the tea to be replaced, a butler practically rushed to fulfill the viscountess’ request. “More tea?”

“I would love some more,” (Y/N) said, feeling lighter than air. Perhaps having a friend was a good step forward, a leap into the right direction.

The door to the drawing room slammed open.

“Mother, I just received our balance from the modiste and—”

Much like he owned the place—and in a way, he did—Lord Bridgerton took command of the less-than-quaint room and had all eye on him. His own eyes—his brown eyes—were trained solely on the widow sitting beside his mother, his mouth agape.

“Oh Anthony, you cannot just barge in here,” Violet scolded, “we have a guest.”

“I see that,” he seethed, shoving his hands behind his back in faux-decorum. “Lady Barlow.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded stiffly, not bothering to raise from her seat.

He ignored her, turning swiftly to his mother instead. “May I have a word alone with our guest, Mother?”

Feeling the tension in the room rise, Violet sighed, giving into her son’s request. “I believe I should check on the governess, anyhow,” Violet said, rising from her seated position. “Behave.”

Anthony brushed his mother’s whispered warning off, tilting his head to the staff, all leaving the room at his command. The door had barely clicked shut before he stepped forward. “Since when are you friends with my mother?”

“Since when do you care about who I spend my time with?”

“Since that company is my mother,” he said cooly. “I would have thought you were just so turned off by the Bridgerton name that you would ignore all of my family—”

“She is a nice woman,” (Y/N) rose, crossing her arms. “How you managed to turn out the way you have despite that is beyond me.”

“You are in my home,” Anthony pointed. “You insult my character and you dare try to befriend my mother?”

“Dare?” She laughed. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Not with my mother,” he stepped towards her. 

“Your mother,” she smiled forcefully, “Violet, has been nothing but kind to me today. She was merely looking out for me—offered me some good advice.”

“Advice?” He laughed. “On what planet could someone many years your senior offer you helpful advice?”

“You could not settle with just insulting me, so you had to insult your own mother? She is not yet elderly—”

“Yet she is older than you,” he corrected, his cheeks pink from his mistake. “Do you not have friends your own age?”

“Do you not have something better to do?”

He huffed, squeezing his wrist in restraint. “I came here to speak with my mother—”

“Yet you shooed her out of the room and decided to speak to me instead,” she countered, stepping closer. “To insult me? To threaten me? Whichever, I suppose, I will never understand. I decided to take tea with Lady Bridgerton because she offered it—offered advice on being a widow, something you have already known about me.”

“I wouldn’t wish for her to hear our conversation, besides, her advice could not have been that helpful,” Anthony snorted. “My parents were in love, her trials of being a widow pales in comparison to your situation—”

“The one in which I also lost a husband? The sole definition of being a widow?” She said, her arms tight against her chest. “That situation?”

The grand clock—that damned grand clock—chimed in the uncomfortable silence, a new hour beginning.

“I may not have loved Lord Barlow,” she admitted. “He may not even have been a friend to me, but I still am a lady who has lost her husband—a lady who has so much as lost her way in this fucked world, a world where a woman cannot simply be without one. Your mother was simply being kind.”

“I did not mean…” Anthony’s posture softened, even just a bit, words caught in his throat.

“But you did,” she pointed. “If you hadn’t meant it, you wouldn’t have said it. My, Lord Bridgerton, you certainly have a way with words, much like you always have, it seems.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She looked at the clock. “I must take my leave. I am expected to be back home soon, the estate certainly cannot run itself, seeing as my husband,” she nearly spat the word, “has left it to my care. What a thoughtful man he was.”

“I—Lady Barlow,” Anthony started, unsure of where he was going with it. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Keep them,” she smiled. “They are nearly as useless as you are. Excuse me.” Lady Barlow opened the door with haste, nodding to the staff members who were waiting outside. Her lady’s maid, Meg, followed only a few steps behind her, her attention caught on the wounded viscount in blue.

Anthony practically dissolved into the arm chair, unsure of what to do next. He had half a mind to go to his study to drink, to pour over the invoices that had him enter this room in the first place. His interactions with Lady Barlow usually left him buzzing, his blood boiling and his ego only partially wounded. How he was left feeling so defeated was beyond him.

“A way with words?” He mumbled to himself. “I never wish to understand that woman.”

Yet, a part of him nearly screamed the opposite.

How peculiar.  

—

Roses and Regrets Tag List:

@creative-heart , @sunshineangel-reads

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#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #x reader #oopsies #didn't expect to write some steamy bits already in chapter 2 but oh well!! reader is pent up i guess

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Our daddies uses to joke about the two of us | Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Summary: Your fathers' jokes turned to reality

Word count: 0.5k

I have not written for obx in a long time, but I was listening to Taylor Swift - as I very often do - and got this idea when hearing Mary's song

p.s. I'm back to writing for obx!! Sent requests!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were seven and Rafe was nine when you met him.

Unlike him, your family didn’t live on the island. You had a summer house. Every July, your parents would pack and drive to Kildare to spend summer there. It was nice being close to the beach, but you didn’t have many friends.

Your fathers were golf partners at the country club and decided your families would celebrate 4th of July together at the Cameron estate. The house was massive and they had a pool and a large backyard to run around.

Sarah was introduced to you first, but she liked the color pink and turtles and you preferred lime green and stingrays. Therefore she couldn’t be your friend. Rafe liked lime green, but not stingrays…and you could live with that.

That summer, Rafe became your entire world.

You would go to the Cameron house and play pirates or swim in their pool. Your swimming skills weren’t the best, but Rafe was a great swimmer and promised he would never let you drown. Rose would bring you iced tea and animal crackers, and Rafe always let you have the tiger shaped ones.

At the end of summer, the country club had a season closure event and the loud noises of the fireworks were scaring you. You wanted to go to your mom for comfort, but you couldn’t see her. Instead, Rafe took your hand in his and distracted you by telling you about the frog Sarah caught and brought inside the house and a screaming Rose.

A year later, pink had become your favorite color, but you still spent your summer with Rafe. He didn’t want to play pirates anymore, but it was okay. 

When you turned nine, you dared him to kiss you under the backyard tree and ran when he tried because kissing was yucky. 

The fifth summer, Rafe had grown a few inches and was now towering over you. He kept saying he would beat you up because he was bigger than you, but he never did. He would never physically hurt you.

The following year, two boys started coming over to Rafe’s house. Kelce and Topper. They were always talking about girls — more specifically the brunette lifeguard at the beach. It made you uncomfortable, so you painted your nails with Sarah. 

A few years went by and you turned sixteen. Suddenly you weren't that little girl Rafe used to see. Your body had gone through puberty in the past year and on pool afternoons, Rafe had to force himself to stop looking at the way you filled your bikini and focus on the beach ball Topper was throwing at his head. 

You fathers used to joke about the two of you growing up and falling in love, but the joke was no longer one when you got caught kissing at midsummer. Rafe had another girl for date, but it was you he wanted to hold hands and dance with in that way-too-warm-for-summer tux. 

Goodbyes were extra difficult when August came to an end.

The breeze of the beach at night blew as you rested your head on his shoulder. Your friends were closer to the fire, drinking beer and celebrating the last day of summer. 

‘’I don't want you to leave,’’ Rafe said, watching as the water washed over the sand and swished. 

‘’Me either.’’ Your heart was heavy, knowing when morning come you'll get on the ferry and head home. ‘’I love you to the moon and Saturn, Rafe Cameron.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage  @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc  @pedrosprincess  @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb  @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom  @popeheywardssecretgf

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

[notyashiro128]

Iam sorry

Small one-shot

Fluff fluff fluff

Megumi During the day he'll be ignoring you being a bit mean to you

Because He doesn't want Nobara Yuji and Gojo to know about your relationship with him

But today He was so mean to you that you were sick and cuz of what he's done you got angry

"fushiguro can you please give me your notes?" You asked him

Yuji and nobara They were behind you

They asked Megumi before you but Megumi's response was no

"Why didn't you write your note?" he was upset

"no, I was a little tired can I take them? "You asked nicely

"Don't take responsibility, you idiot" he said Coldly leaving the class

'Did this mf called me idiot that bitch then in the night he'll be beging me to sleep with him ' you said it to yourself

"What a mean .hey it ok y/n " Nobara tried to calm you down

"Its okay y/n I'll tell him later to give us-"You interrupted Yuji

"no, We don't need his notes"You left the class and closed the door hard behind you. You went to your dorm as soon as you entered, took off your shoes and went to your bed to sleep.

In middle of night about 2 am

As soon as you woke up, you noticed Megumi sitting at your table, writing something. you couldn't help but feel a bit surprised. You wondered how he had gotten there and why and what he was writing in your room without your permission. You decided to confront him and demand an explanation for her actions.

"m-megumi" you said sleeply Megumi turned to you and got up, walking towards you

"What are you doing here "you said sleepily with a soft town

He then lay down next to you and quickly you sat on your bed. "What are you doing here?' you asked madly" I just came to write you the notes you need and I want to sleep with you today" . You gave him look, "huh? " Side eye 😏

"Its just sorry I yelled at you in the morning," He then grabbed your hands and pushed you to lie on your back while Megumi placed his head on top of your chest ( what a boobie guy)

"I'm sorry" He nuzzles your neck and then h buries his face in your chest even more

"ah me_gumi stop, you're crushing me" you were about to moan

"Oh, I forgot that they are very sensitive but soft like a pillow or marshmallow~," he murmured sleepy then He laid next to you on his side while you lay on your back you you got up and sat in a chair,

"Y/N. What's wrong with you?" He sat on a bed. "Don't talk to me. I won't sit next to you" you said Coldly

."Why said I'm sorry? " He said it softly. " No, I will not accept your sorry, sorry won't fix a broken heart"

As Megumi approached you, you couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. You quickly rose from your seat and tried to distance yourself from him, but he followed you. Suddenly, you found yourself pressed against a wall, his hand resting on your waist. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You mustered up the courage to speak up, "Please, stay away from me, Fushiguro."

When you called him by His first name he knows that you are upset

Then he picked you up and put you in a bed. He covered you with a blanket and hugged you tightly. You were tired

iam sorry *kiss at your forehead* iam sorry*kiss at the tip of your nose* " iam sorry" * kisses at your cheeks* "iam sorry" * kiss at your lips* you giggled trying to hide your smile

As Megumi hugged you tightly, you could feel his hand running over your arm. He leaned in towards you and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, followed by the words, "I love you." You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you realized how soft and warm his touch was. The moment was so tender and intimate that it made you feel safe and loved.

"I love you too goodnight," You Said quickly trying to back to sleep. Megumi couldn't sleep, but he kept watching you.

What's next?

#megumi #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x female reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi headcanons #megumi husband #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #megumi smut #megumi x you #jjk fushiguro

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Teach My Mouth a Lesson(2)

Toji x fem!reader

Synopsis: You caught your friend's sleazy dad touching himself. And he asked you to join, will you?

Content: age gap (reader is mid 20s, toji is late 40s), self pleasure (toji and reader), teasing, he's still kinda mean, slight fingering, grinding, toji plays with your pussy, pussy inspection (sorta?)

Wc: 1.3k

Part one

“Ya just gonna watch or are you gonna join me?”

Silence filled the air as you stood there, frozen in your spot. His hand still stroked up and down his drooling length, his head craned over the back of the couch. Staring at you. Eyes traveling up and down your body, the low groan in the back of his throat snapped you out of it.

“You're disgusting,” was all you could say, breathlessly. Toji chuckled, deep, “Says the one watching her friend's dad stroke his dick.” Heat filled your face as you tried to pry your eyes away. It was more difficult than you wanted it to be. “W-Well maybe you shouldn't do it out in the open.” Your fist balled up at your sides, failing at sounding angry. Tsk. “S'my house, I'll touch my cock where I please.” God, his mouth was filthy. A slow smirk spread onto his face, “So? Ya gonna join?” You didn't know why but you couldn't make your mouth tell him to fuck off. Storm upstairs and climb back underneath your friend’s covers.

“No,” you said. Trying to sound as definitive as you could. Why was it so hard? “No?” He repeated your answer back, tongue gliding over his permanently chapped lips. “S'a-shame, woulda loved to fuck that pretty little cunt.” Leaving you with your mouth open, he turned back around. Spitting another generous glob of spit into his hand, rubbing it up and down his thickness.

What was wrong with him? You'd never…your pussy throbbed, throwing whatever you were gonna say in your head out the window. You needed to go upstairs, leave this awkward situation. With all the strength you could muster, you pulled your glued feet from the ground and turned; heading to the bathroom–wait what? No no, you should be going upstairs, to go to sleep. To forget this ever happened. So why were you in the bathroom, back pressed against the door as your hands slid down the front of your shorts. Your other hand covering your mouth as you played with yourself. The muffled sound of his groans coming from the living room, going straight to your core. How had you gotten so wet just by merely listening? Briefly watching?

It didn't make any sense, more than it made for you to come so fast. Finger sliding over your wet clit, swollen with arousal. Making a mess of your panties and shorts, your pathetic whines muffled against your hand. Your chest heaved, your fingers glistening with your arousal as you slipped them from your shorts. What were you doing?

Quickly, you washed your hands and bolted out of the bathroom. Missing the wide smirk on Toji's face as he watched you. He had heard everything, even though you'd muffled yourself.

When morning came, it took you roughly thirty seconds to slowly blink your eyes open. And it took you forty five to remember what happened last night. Heat immediately flooded your cheeks as you covered your face.

“Nice dream?” Came your friends teasing tone, poking you in the side. You shook your head, “more like a nightmare.” Your friend's brows rose, “Yeah? Well, it must've been hot then. Your face is all red.” She teased you again, poking once more at your sides before turning her attention back to her phone. “Whatever,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket closer to your face. “Breakfast should be downstairs,” she mentioned offhand as her fingers typed against the screen. Your stomach growled, signaling breakfast would probably be a good idea. “Are you coming?” She waved her hand, “I'll be down in a second.” Great.

With a heavy sigh, you pulled yourself out of bed.

Please don't be there. Please don't be there. Please don't-, “Mornin’ princess,” fuck. So much for wishful thinking. Just don't look at him, it was simple. Don't even respond. You kept your head down, hands searching for the counter. A deep chuckle came from your right. “Yer tryin real hard aren't ya? What, royalty can't make eye contact now?” He was goading you, you knew this, yet your eyes snapped upwards–meeting his. Meeting a smirk, fuck. “That didn't take long,” he gave an absent scratch to his stomach before pushing a plate your way. He said nothing else, waiting for you to take the plate. Which, regrettably, you did. Your stomach would've growled in protest if you didn't.

You took a seat at the bar, pulling the plate to you. And as soon as you placed a piece of food in your mouth, “Did ya enjoy yer little show last night?” Immediately your fork dropped, clanking against the plate.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you don't know why you were pretending it didn't happen. He had caught you, saw you. Had even asked you to join. You pressed your thighs together. “Playing coy are we?” He gave a wide toothed grin, stroking his chin. “So ya mean, that wasn't you in the bathroom touching yo-” his words were cut off. By your hand. When did you move? You could feel his smile widen behind your palm, his hand gripped your wrist. “Rude little thing aren't ya? Cutting me off in the middle of my sentence.” He tugged you closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Allow me to continue; was that you touching yourself in the bathroom?” He knew the answer. It didn't take much brain power to know the answer was yes but playing with you was just so damn fun.

“...no,” you managed to choke out, his proximity making your head spin. Tsk. “Ya sure? If you don't answer correctly, m'gonna have to check myself.” What did that even mean? Still, holding your ground for some unknown reason, you said no again.

He hummed, twisting you around until your front was pressed flush against the counter. His body pressed up against you, you could feel it, the hard outline of his dick. Pressed against your ass. “Now let's see..” he trailed off, slipping his hand around your waist, stopping at the band of your shorts. “If it was you, yer cute little pussy should still be sensitive. Wet. What do ya think?” He didn't give you time to answer, slipping his thick fingers underneath your shorts, teasing your pussy through your panties. He hummed, “Look here, s'all wet down here.” His voice was heavy against your ear, hot breath making your hair stand on end.

“And if I slip my fingers under like this-” his thick digits slid underneath the thin material of your panties. A low groan escaped his mouth, directly into your ear. He pressed even closer to you, “So wet f'me, it is for me right?” His heavy breath against your neck, his fingers sliding in between your folds made your brain mushy. To the point you found yourself nodding, your ass pressing back against his crotch, making him grunt. “Needy aren't we?” Toji chuckled, continuing to play with your pussy. Spreading your juices all over, dipping the tip inside every now and then.

“Got such a tight cunt, wan me to stretch it open with my big dick?”

Your eyes rolled back, grinding your ass against him. He was getting you so worked up. “Yes..” you found yourself saying, breathless. “Yeah? Need to-”

The sound of feet descending the stairs made you both move quickly away from each other. You sat in your seat, he took to leaning against the counter. Giving a tentative lick to his fingers, eyes on you, before his daughter came into the kitchen. “You weren't giving her any trouble were you?” She eyed him, taking a seat next to you.

“Never.” He gave you a knowing look before pushing his daughter's plate over.

A/N: Sorry for teasing you all again hehe

Taglist: @slvtmeout

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #series

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

“A year.” 

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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