#Hermes hit gold

[annie-also-draws]

WIP Charon Modern Au design

[jules-loves-lukecastellan]

| (PART 2) luke castellan x fem! daughter of poseidon! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ: none i don’t think (sneaking out maybe??)

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: after getting caught on their secret date, they decided to hang out at luke’s cabin late at night.. (PART 2 to “I thought this place was secret..”)

“I think my eyes turn into hearts whenever I see you”

“okay goodnight y/n. see you in the morning.” percy quietly says, yawning. “goodnight percy sleep well.” you say with a smile on your face.

you check your phone (let’s pretend we use phones in this imagine) and see that’s it’s 10:20. “hey why aren’t you in your pajamas yet?” percy asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“oh.. uh.. i have some more duties that i gotta do before i get to bed.” you said, eye darting anywhere but percy’s. he looked very suspicious of you but brushed it off his shoulder, he was extremely tired.

as percy’s head hit the pillow, you start to make your departure to the door of your cabin. as you’re just about to leave, you decide to put your hair in two loose braids.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆

your knuckles hit the familiar cabin’s door three times softly, afraid of waking any other campers before the door opens and you see the familiar face of your boyfriend.

you instantly put your arms around his neck and both your foreheads touched. “i thought you’d never come.” luke whispered while smiling and kissing the tip of your nose.

he pulled you inside his cabin and led you to his bed, where he moved the covers over and got in. luke moved over so there was room for you and he held out his arms for you to lay into.

as your laying on his chest, hearing his heartbeat and his arms are around your shoulders, you both are just soaking in comfortable silence. “i love you.” you said, very nervously. you two had never used the “L” word before.

luke just sits there caught off guard. as soon as he registers what you just said. “luke?” you say, shakiness visible in your voice as you look up and your eyes meet his soft chocolate ones.

he just looks down at you, as if you asked him to marry you. a twinkle in his eyes, like flicks of gold meeting the warm sunshine.

a loving smile appears across his face, dimples very evident. he leans down and he whispers “you’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.” as he turns away from your ear and captures your soft lips in a loving kiss.

that kiss symbolizes your true love for one another. as your lips part, you just look at each other. hearts in your eyes.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆

the next morning, you awoke next to a very cute, resting luke. as you checked your phone, your screen lit up with many messages from percy like “WHERE TF R U?!” “ARE U OKAY?! ARE U DEAD” “y/n.. plz answer me. i’m scared” “OMG YOU BETTER NOT BE WITH THAT STUPID HERMES BOY😡😡😡!!!!!!”

you rolled your eyes softly pecking luke’s temple as you exit the bed and out the door. only to be met by an angry looking percy.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆

౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ- part 2 done! i rly hope this is good enough lol. i rly enjoyed writing this! i love fluff with luke <33. don’t forget to request!! (idk how to put requests on so just pm them to me hehe🫶🏻)

-jules🎀

⋆𖦹.✧˚ taglist⋆𖦹.✧˚-

@simrah1012 @mimisamisasa

[soulofapatrick]

Heal Me - Percy Jackson x Female reader 

Summary: Percy flirts with you while you heal him during a game of Capture the Flag

Words: 2.5K 

Warnings: injuries 

Y/N's POV

As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink, the infirmary of Camp Half-Blood buzzes with activity. The day's Capture the Flag match has left its mark, both on the battlefield and in the infirmary. I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling a sense of camaraderie among my fellow children of Apollo.

The infirmary is a symphony of healing, with each of us Apollo offspring moving with grace and purpose. Our hands, guided by our father's divine gift, dance over the wounds of our fellow campers, weaving spells of restoration and comfort. The scent of medicinal herbs hangs in the air, mingling with the soft murmurs of our incantations.

As I finish tending to a particularly nasty wound on a camper's arm, I turn to see Clarisse La Rue hobbling in, her usually fierce demeanour marred by signs of fatigue. Despite her grumbling, there's a sense of resilience in her eyes as she recounts the day's events.

"It seems you've been through quite the ordeal," I remark, offering her a reassuring smile as I guide her to a vacant cot.

Clarisse snorts, but there's a flicker of appreciation in her expression as I begin my assessment of her injuries. The gash on her arm speaks of fierce battles, the bruise on her thigh a testament to her determination, and the burn mark on her shoulder a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest.

"Those opposing demigods won't know what hit them," she grumbles, though her tone carries a hint of pride amidst the pain.

With practiced hands, I apply soothing salves and healing spells, easing her discomfort with each gentle touch. As the last of her wounds begins to mend, I can't help but feel a surge of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity.

"There," I say, offering her a warm smile as I finish my work. "You'll be back on your feet in no time.”

Clarisse grunts in acknowledgment, but her eyes hold a glimmer of gratitude as she pushes herself upright, ready to face whatever challenges await her beyond the walls of the infirmary.

As I meticulously tend to Clarisse's injuries, I can't shake the relief coursing through me that I'm not out there on the battlefield today. While the thrill of Capture the Flag has always enticed me, there's a different kind of fulfilment found within the walls of the infirmary. Here, amidst the scent of herbs and the soft hum of incantations, I find solace in the quiet yet profound satisfaction of helping to mend my friends.

Across the room, my brother Will navigates the challenges of a compound fracture with his usual calm and skill. The young Hermes camper, fighting back tears of pain, finds comfort in Will's gentle touch and soothing words. Our eyes meet briefly, sharing a silent understanding of the importance of our roles here. In this sanctuary of healing, we wield our abilities to safeguard the well-being of our fellow demigods.

Just as I finish applying a healing balm to Clarisse's arm, the infirmary door creaks open once more, revealing Annabeth supporting a barely-conscious Malcolm. Without hesitation, I rush to their aid, joining Annabeth in guiding Malcolm to a vacant cot. His injuries are severe—a deep cut mars his forehead, likely inflicted by the sharp edge of an Ares child's sword, while his leg is twisted at an awkward angle.

Instinctively, I assess the extent of his injuries, my heart sinking at the sight of his pale complexion and laboured breathing. But there's no time for despair. With focused determination, I set to work, channeling the healing energies bestowed upon me by our divine parent to mend Malcolm's wounds and ease his pain.

As I work, a sense of urgency drives me forward, fuelled by the knowledge that every moment counts in our world of constant peril. Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a profound sense of purpose that anchors me—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the healing touch of a friend.

"Thanks," Annabeth says, her voice carrying a hint of weariness despite her determination, "They set a trap for us near the creek. I should have seen it coming.”

I offer her a sympathetic nod, understanding all too well the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. "It sounds like you had a close call. I'm glad you're okay.”

A silent exchange of gratitude passes between us as Annabeth squeezes my shoulder before slipping back into the fray outside. The battlefield awaits her, but here in the infirmary, we continue our quiet work of healing and care.

Turning my attention back to Malcolm, I apply a soothing poultice to his bruise and carefully tend to the cut on his forehead. Each action is imbued with a sense of urgency, a silent prayer for his swift recovery in the face of adversity.

As I finish wrapping Malcolm's injured leg, the infirmary door swings open once more, admitting Percy Jackson. His usual air of confidence is overshadowed by the weariness etched into his features, his body bearing the scars of battle. Deep claw marks mar his chest, a testament to the ferocity of his adversaries, while a vicious burn on his arm adds to the litany of injuries he carries. A pronounced limp accompanies him, signalling the presence of a serious sprain or break.

Despite the severity of his wounds, Percy's gaze remains steady as he meets mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In this moment, words are unnecessary—our shared understanding of the dangers we face is enough.

"Hey," Percy says, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips despite the bruises marring his features. "I think I might need some help.”

I arch an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. "You do realise you can heal yourself with water, right? There's a perfectly good lake just outside.”

He shrugs, his grin turning sheepish. "Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see my favourite Apollo camper, would I?”

Percy's flirtatious banter washes over me, stirring a mix of amusement and warmth within. Despite the chaos and injuries, his easygoing nature never fails to lift my spirits. But beneath the teasing lies a subtle tension, a hint of something deeper that tugs at my heartstrings.

Suppressing a smile, I step closer to Percy, my concern for his injuries overriding the flutter of emotions stirring within me. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the best healer in camp," I reply, injecting a mock confidence into my tone. "Now, let's get you patched up before those wounds start attracting monsters.” 

Before I can even finish my sentence, Percy is already in motion, swiftly shedding his shirt and armour with practiced ease. As his shirt slips off his broad shoulders, revealing the intricate network of scars and the defined muscles beneath his skin, I can't help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere around us. 

The infirmary seems to hold its breath as Percy sits before me, his physique a testament to the trials he's faced and the battles he's won. His sea-green eyes, flecked with gold like sunlit waves, shimmer with determination and resilience, a reflection of the depths of his soul. His hair, as black as the depths of the ocean, falls in untamed waves around his face, framing his rugged features with an air of wildness and defiance. There's a hint of stubble along his jawline, a reminder of his journey from boyhood to manhood, marked by trials and triumphs.

But it's not just Percy's physical appearance that captivates those around him; it's the aura of strength and vulnerability that surrounds him, drawing others to him like moths to a flame. Despite the scars that mar his skin and the burdens he carries as the son of Poseidon, there's a warmth in his smile, a kindness in his gaze that speaks volumes about the goodness within him. 

As Percy moves with a grace that belies his injuries, the other girls in the infirmary can't help but steal glances in his direction, their eyes lingering on his chiseled features and the effortless confidence with which he carries himself. Some whisper among themselves, their voices hushed with awe and admiration, while others offer shy smiles or lingering looks of appreciation. 

But amidst the silent admiration, I remain focused on my task, to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care. As my hands work to mend his injuries, I can't help but feel a sense of connection to him, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship. 

As I continue to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care, a sense of focus descends upon me, blocking out the whispers and stolen glances from the other girls in the infirmary. My hands move with practiced ease, guided by the healing energies of Apollo as I work to mend the gashes and bruises that mar his skin. 

Sensing the need for a better angle to properly treat the gash on his chest, I make a split-second decision and sink to my knees in front of him. The move catches Percy off guard, his sea-green eyes widening slightly in surprise before a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. 

"Well, well," he quips, his voice laced with playful amusement. "If you wanted to get between my legs, Sunshine, you only had to ask.” 

His words send a rush of heat to my cheeks, flushing them crimson as I glance up at him, momentarily lost for words. Despite the teasing tone, there's a warmth in Percy's gaze, a silent reassurance that eases the tension between us. 

Clearing my throat, I focus on the task at hand, my hands steady as I continue to tend to his wounds. Percy's thighs part slightly at my presence, a silent invitation that doesn't go unnoticed, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, Percy’s taking the cloth from my hand and tossing it aside, the action catching me off guard. Before I can react, he hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. I can't help but be drawn in by the depth of his eyes, the silent communication passing between us palpable in the charged atmosphere of the infirmary. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a seemingly innocent gesture that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me. I can't tear my eyes away from the subtle movement, my breath catching in my throat as Percy smirks, the tension between us thickening with each passing moment. 

In that moment, it's as if the world falls away, leaving only Percy and me in our own private bubble of desire and longing. The air crackles with anticipation, every touch and glance laden with unspoken promises and hidden desires. 

As Percy's fingers linger against my skin, tracing the line of my jaw with a feather-light touch, I feel a surge of electricity surge through me. It's a sensation unlike anything I've ever experienced, a heady mix of fear and excitement that leaves me breathless and wanting more. But before I can fully process the intensity of the moment, Percy leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. The air between us pulses with raw energy, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as we stand on the precipice of something unknown. 

And then, with a soft sigh, Percy closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within me. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts melt away, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. It's a kiss filled with passion and longing, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts fade into the background, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. 

As the kiss deepens, Percy's hands move with purpose, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer to him. The touch of his fingers against my scalp sends shivers down my spine, the sensation both electrifying and comforting at the same time. With each caress, he draws me further into the depths of his embrace, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.  

Feeling emboldened by his touch, I let my own hands roam, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders with trembling fingers. His skin is warm beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the cool air of the infirmary, and I revel in the sensation of being so close to him.

But it's not just the physical closeness that leaves me breathless; it's the intensity of our connection, the unspoken understanding that passes between us with each fleeting touch. In Percy's arms, I feel safe and cherished, as if nothing in the world could ever harm me.

As the kiss deepens, our breath mingles in a heated exchange of desire and longing. Percy's hands trail down my back, pulling me up from my knees and onto his solid lap in one fluid motion. The movement is effortless, as if we were always meant to be this close, this intimate.

For a moment, our lips remain locked in a passionate embrace, unwilling to break the connection that binds us together. But as the need for air becomes too pressing to ignore, we reluctantly part, gasping for breath as our chests heave with the intensity of our shared desire. 

Percy's grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if afraid I'll slip away if he lets me move even a few centimetres away. There's a hunger in his gaze, a primal need that mirrors my own, as he looks up at me with eyes darkened by desire.

In that moment, with Percy's intense gaze fixed on me, I feel a rush of heat spread through my body, igniting every nerve ending in a blaze of sensation. It's a heady mix of desire and vulnerability, as if we're teetering on the edge of something vast and unknown, ready to leap into the abyss together.

As our eyes lock in silent understanding, I realise that this is more than just a fleeting moment of passion—it's a declaration of our shared connection, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship.

And as Percy pulls me closer, his lips seeking mine with a newfound urgency, I know that in this moment, we are bound together by something greater than ourselves—a love that defies the odds and transcends the boundaries of time and space.

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@papichulo120627 @guacam011y @alexxavicry @luuuciiia-mr @chan

[breadbrobin]

hello, hello!! first of all, i just wanna tell you that your fics got me kickin' my feet and shi. with that said, can i request a luke castellan x gn! reader where reader is a minor god's kid and so they're staying at cabin 11 it was just this fluffy thing where luke and them are just being domestic and all that, like almost acting like parents to the younger kids? i'm such a sucker for domestic fluff it's INSANE

lego blocks

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[gn!child of eos reader]

summary: parental figures are hard to come by at camp half-blood, so you and luke (barely old enough to not need them yourselves) take up the mantle where you can. and, well, it’s the hermes cabin, so it’s a little more chaotic than anyone bargained for.

warnings: like two minor swear words, pure fluff, kissing, reader is called pretty (but reader is still gn)

word count: 1.4k

(hiiii omg thank you for this request it’s so cute and was so fun to write!! and thank you for your compliments ahhh you’re so sweet! AND DOMESTIC FLUFF IS WHERE ITS AT FR i can’t believe i haven’t written any before smhhhh)

——————————————

scarcely a day in the hermes cabin went by without an injury, an issue or an altercation.

just in the last week alone, you’d seen a fist fight, an argument, many stolen belongings, three bad nightmares and six threats of death or violence. it was your job (unofficially) to diffuse the tension. and it was luke’s job (officially) to have your back.

just like every morning, you woke up at dawn. as a child of eos, goddess of the dawn, you were always awake with the sun. the moment dawn struck, you, like the apollo cabin, snapped awake. it was something you’d complained with them about many times, but it eventually became something you found yourself at least trying to enjoy.

you slipped out of bed quietly and padded across the dim cabin to the door, stepping out onto the porch to watch as the sky turned from dark blues to soft pinks.

just as the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, you heard footsteps behind you.

“morning,” luke’s gravelly morning voice reached you as he rested his chin on your shoulder and hugged you from behind. “pretty today.”

“it is,” you sighed contently, leaning back into him.

he yawned. “meant you.”

you smiled and turned in his arms, pressing a kiss just beside his lips. he pouted.

“brush your teeth first, and then i’ll kiss you properly,” you teased.

he just sighed a little, a small gracing his face, before looking away to watch the sunrise.

you had only around ten minutes before you had to wake everyone else in the cabin up, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy the peaceful quiet and sweet chirping of birds in the trees for as long as you could.

it would become hectic later, when you had to rouse everyone from their sleep and rush them to the dining pavilion for breakfast. you never enjoyed it, and you often wondered how luke had managed it on his own before you came along. so you soaked up the sun rays peeking through the leaves, watching as the world around you turned from blue to gold in a dazzling array of colours that made you ever grateful for your parentage, and relaxed in the warmth of luke’s embrace. the peace wouldn’t last for long. it never did.

“tom, put the knife down!” you called across the room as you moved a chess piece along the board. a groan came from a few bunks over and the sound of a knife hitting the floor echoed. “and, max, will you please stop trying to fight jennifer? she’s gonna kick your ass again, and i’m not even gonna tell her off or patch you up.”

a disappointed, “fine!” came back in return, followed by jennifer’s teasing.

“jennifer!”

“sorry!” she replied.

your chess opponent, a young girl you were almost sure was a daughter of athena, scowled at your move and studied the board, giving you a chance to look around at the hermes cabin.

it was your scheduled downtime between activities and dinner, and while some of the residents of cabin 11 were out around camp, many were inside playing games or hanging out. so, that was where you were—diffusing the tension every time you had to and pretending to enjoy chess because sandy really wanted to play, and who were you to deny her hobbies?

two hands landed on your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your cheek. you could smell the familiar scent of pine, sword polish and leather—luke.

“hey, babe,” he said softly. “any issues?”

sandy moved a piece on the board. “check.”

“again?” you leaned forward in shock. “okay, uh… yeah, the only issue is how i win this game, actually. oh, and tom’s got that knife back somehow and he won’t stop threatening khalid with it. i’m a little concerned about them. max and jen should be fine now, but maybe check on them? oh, and make sure callie hasn’t stolen any snacks again? last time, she got really sick and—“

“and we stayed up all night making sure she was okay, i remember. i’ll check on presley too. make sure he’s not drawing on the walls again.” luke patted your shoulders gently as he stepped away. “i got it. you focus on winning.”

“i’m trying,” you pouted. realistically, you weren’t too bad at chess. however, you felt like it was only fair to give sandy a chance to show off, since she’d been in the hermes cabin, unclaimed, for a month now. you knew how that felt. before your mother claimed you, you’d been unclaimed for just under two months. in all fairness, you’d always flown under the radar, until your sunshine and smiles reputation breached the walls you’d attempted to build up and you started dating the golden boy of camp half-blood. the second that had happened, just over seven months ago, everything changed. suddenly, you had respect, appreciation, love, family. so maybe you didn’t have your own cabin. and maybe you were stuck in one that was full to the brim of kids. and maybe you had to be somewhat of a parent for many of those kids—those who missed their families, who had never had families, who had never had a place to call their own. but did you mind? not at all. it would have been impossible without luke though. it was like he could read your mind sometimes. he knew, just as well as you did, all of the ins and outs of the kids in your cabin, how to appease the older kids, entertain the younger ones, and make sure the cabin was still standing by the end of the day. you’d never know what you did in a past life to deserve him, but it had to have been something goddamn saintly.

finally, you moved a piece. you knew it would easily put you in checkmate, but you didn’t mind.

sandy’s eyes lit up. she moved her knight into position and looked up at you, grinning widely. “checkmate!”

“no way!” you protested. “how did you even—?”

“i’m good at chess.” she blushed a little.

“uh, yeah, you are.” you extended a hand over the small table to her. “good game.”

“good game.” she shook your hand with a smile and skipped away to gloat to her friends.

luke’s arm slipped around your shoulders as he sat next to you. “you let her win?”

“no, of course not,” you lied with a smile. “and if i did i’d never compromise my dignity by telling you.”

you could see his smile out of the corner of your eye. “sure. my bad.”

you hummed and turned to kiss him, but just before your lips could meet, a resounding “ew!!” echoed through the cabin.

you pulled away to see what was going on. maybe another bug needed dealing with? or someone had thrown up or wet their pants? no. everyone was staring at you and luke. you frowned. “wait, what?”

“you guys were about to kiss,” tom cringed, somehow holding a new knife. “that’s gross.”

luke laughed while you shook your head in amusement.

“it’s not gross!” you protested. “and put that knife down.”

“it is!” one of the slightly older girls exclaimed as tom dropped the knife on his bunk with a groan.

murmurs of agreement followed.

you laughed along with luke as he cupped your cheek in his hand and kissed you, deliberately slow and sweet, much to the chagrin of the campers around you.

you pulled away first, laughing, as someone threw a lego block at you and luke, hitting you in the arm lightly.

“hey!” luke laughed and tossed it back in their general direction. “no one throws lego blocks at my partner.”

before either of you could do anything, lego blocks were flying.

through your laughs and trying to hide behind luke as a shield, you could only feel love for your boyfriend and the kids you both chose to spend your time looking after. despite the fact that they threw legos at you, and despite the fact that you weren’t related to any of them. this was your family. a messed up, too big, far too crowded unit of kids and teenagers, all crammed in one room, connected by two things alone: the fact that you were all thrust into this messed up magical world with no preparation, and love.

and lego blocks, apparently.

[anonymousbardd]

Over The Sunset - FT. Hermes x FemReader

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "Your slow loving makes me feel so obsessed with you."

𑄽𑄺 Content Contains: xFemreader, fluff, swearing. This story is based off of the series, Blood Of Zeus - ¡Please do not repost without crediting!

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: "All my life I and the world had been moving at a fast pace, but everyone always seems to slow down whenever I'm near you."

[F/n] is a young maiden who lives in a small poli, she used to live in a much larger economy, but her previous home was destroyed by a big group of bandits and hoarders. Now, she lives in a small village that the survivors built.

During the hard times, [F/n}'s family were the ones who helped everyone, they were the ones who gathered resources, and food, and they helped with the injured.

The village had a voting session to decide who would lead their newly rebuilt home, and it was no brainer why all of them chose your family. At the time, [F/n] was still an unborn fetus, and by the time she was born, the whole village had dedicated that day to celebrating their new life and home.

The young girl grew up to be polite, humble and kind, just like her parents. The villagers adored her, calling [F/n] the village's white rose. The young girl had a heart of gold, was sensitive, and felt empathetic towards the poor souls who had passed away. [F/n] would pray to Hermes, she would pray for the safety of the undead.

[F/n] would visit Hermes' nearby temple and would make offerings to him.

One morning, the village's white rose now grew into a beautiful maiden, it was a lovely morning, [F/n] was making her way to the nearby river to collect some water, when all of a sudden, she heard screams of terror from her beloved villagers.

[F/n] ran towards the sounds of agony, her heart raced inside of her chest as her mind showed different horrific scenarios. Once she finally arrived, she noticed that the cries and screams were coming from inside.

She rushed in only to find a dimly lit cave, on the ground where some of the villagers bleeding out, a little girl was crying, [F/n] ran towards the young girl and held her in her arms. Then, in the dark, a figure rose and began to swiftly attack the young girl and [F/n].

The young maiden then took a rock from the ground and began throwing it at the Kere, all whilst she hid the young child behind her, she managed to land a decent hit on its head, causing it to fall back into the shadows.

[F/n] then turned to the young child and made sure that she was okay, [F/n]'s legs were already bruised and wounded, so she wasn't able to run away, "Leave this cave... Hurry and run back to the village!" [F/n] said, "B-but.., I can't leave you here!"

[F/n] smiled and placed a hand on the girl's cheek, "Worry not about me, save yourself," she said, and with that, the young girl ran out of the cave and back to the village. [F/n] knew that if she stayed any longer she would end up being feasted upon.

A tear rolled down her cheek, and the young maiden then decided to pray for the two dead bodies on the ground, as she did, she felt a gush of wind brush against her face.

Then right before her, a tall man with fair skin appeared, his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue and his hair was in a braid, he took off his helmet and looked down on the ground to see the dead and [F/n].

The young maiden knew that the man was too big to be an ordinary mortal, "Wh-who.., who are you..?" [F/n] asked quite frightened, the tall man chuckled and kneeled down.

"Well that's quite disappointing... As my devoted follower I would thought that you would have at least a bit of a clue who I am."

He than hovered his hand on top of the dead villagers and began to harvest their souls, he looked at [F/n] and smiled, only then did the young maiden realise who it was.

The man in front of her was no other than Hermes, the god she's been praying to all her life.

Just as the tall man stood up, [F/n] lifted her body and warned him, "Wait! Careful, there's a Keres lurking in the dar—..,"

*shing!*

In a blink of an eye, the Keres from before was cut in half, Hermes' reaction was quick and beyond mortal abilities.

[F/n] sat there in shock, the god then reached out his hand for the young maiden to hold, "Come, let me help you out of here," he said with a smile.

The young woman then held his hand, and without struggle, he carries her in a bridal way.

[F/n] felt her heart pounding inside of her chest, her facd felt hot as she looked at the god who's carrying her. Not a second later they were outside Hermes' temple, the god gently placed her down and looked at her wounds.

"Wait here, I'll be back," he said looking up at the young woman, not even 10 minutes later, Hermes returned with clean cloth and a bucket of water.

[F/n] watched as the god dipped the cloth in water and began to gently dab it on her wounds, causing her to wince in pain. "Bare with me for a bit.., I know it hurts..." Hermes muttered.

The young maiden moaned, her legs were aching, she then looked at Hermes who was currently focused on her injury, "Do you usually do this for those who worship you?" [F/n] asked.

Hermes smiled warmly and looked up at the young maiden, "I do not, consider yourself special," he said, [F/n] felt her face heat up, she then looked away, the sun was already setting.

[F/n] looked back at Hermes and hummed, he was already wrapping up the wound with more clean cloth, "Why..?" [F/n] mumbled, Hermes looked up and hummed, "Why did you save me..?" She asked, "What do you mean?"

[F/n] looked down and sighed, "Compared to you, I am but a young woman... I haven't done anything to be blessed enough to get saved by a god..."

Hermes looked at her for a second and laughed, he sat down on the ground and rested his arms on his knees, "You, my dear, are truly one funny girl," he chucked.

Hermes then stood up, offering his hand to [F/n], to which she accepted.

He then brought her to the top of a mountain that perfectly viewed [F/n]'s village. Hermes held her close to him, making the young maiden feel secure, "You see this village? It's a small poli that your parents helped to grow... And you, a daughter of those with noble hearts, did the same."

[F/n] looked at him, slightly curious. She knew what Hermes meant, but she wanted to know what he'd say. Hermes turned to face [F/n], "You cared for the weak, praid for those who had fallen, and you helped with the village's troubles.., you, darling, are a lovely person."

Hermes smiled and looked out to the horizon, watching the sun slowly fall, "Ever since you started to visit my temple... I can't help but admire you for your kindness, you're very thoughtful... Everday you give me generous offerings, I can't help but feel flattered."

The god then turned to look at [F/n], "Sweetie, you're such a humble person, and on top of that, you're kindness makes me admire you more and more, I find myself looking forward to your presence for whenever you visit my temple again."

Hermes kisses the back of [F/n]'s hand, "I can't help myself but fall for such a charming woman..," he then looked up to see [F/n]'s red face, the way she looked told him everything.

Hermes then slowly pulled himself away, "Though I may know more about you... You don't know much about me... Worry not about that.., I'll gladly take my time and take things slow with you," he smiled, tucking a hair behind [F/n]'s ear.

𑄽𑄺 Blood of Zeus needs more appreciation honestly... Sorry for being inactive, I've been busy hanging out with my family hehe.

༝༚༝༚𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚍

[marswritesstuff]

piercings & polyamory

a/n: i know this is totally out of my usual niche but when inspiration hits after literal months you gotta take advantage of it yk yk

content: nico di angelo x will solace x reader, they/them reader, reader is a hermes kid

warnings: vague description of a home done piercing, piercer knows what they’re doing but is not licensed

- nico di angelo is as close to a professional piercer that camp has.

- nico himself is covered in piercings- it seems every body part of his that can be is covered in black and silver, and tiny accents of gold.

- you are, by far, nico’s favorite “customer.”

- he always loves piercing will, but there’s something about the way you wring your hands while he marks out the piercing, something about the way his sheets bunch up in your fists when he pushes the needle through.

- nico gives you five piercings over the course of two years.

- will sits in for number four- it’s not uncommon for him to hang around the hades cabin.

- after it’s done, after nico carefully slides the jewelry into your lip and you grab his hands and thank him profusely, after you press a few drachmas into his hands despite his insistence that he doesn’t charge and close the door behind you, will rounds on nico immediately.

- “you like them!”

- nico knew that, of course, he wasn’t that emotionally unaware.

- however, whenever he imagined his boyfriend finding out about the secret he thought he’d hid so well, he’d never imagined the joy currently in will’s voice.

- nico met his boyfriend’s eyes slowly.

- “is that… okay?”

- will looked surprised for a second before sitting down next to nico.

- “neeks- did we- did we never have this conversation? wait, ok- nico,” will grabbed both of nico’s hands in his. “hi. i’m your boyfriend. i’m polyamorous. do you have something to tell me?”

———

- while you were showing off your new nico-piercing to your cabinmates, the door to the hermes cabin banged open.

- will solace entered, calling your name, and your cabinmates (the traitors) laughed and pushed you towards him.

- your heart sped up- you’d been nervous about will sitting in on the piercing, because you always felt like your suppressed crush on the son of hades was so much clearer when you were sat in his bed, pliable underneath his hands.

- it was in the same way that your feelings for will felt like they were being dragged out of your chest and right onto your face when he softly sings to you in the infirmary after you’re injured.

- will led you to an abandoned corner of the yard, where nico stood waiting for both of you.

- nico started talking as soon as you came to a standstill, not giving you a chance to get a word in.

- “ok, i don’t wanna give you the wrong impression. you don’t have to answer right now, and if you say no, it doesn’t change anything, i’ll keep piercing you just like anyone else, but-” nico gently grabbed will’s hand. “i like you. like, romantically. and will likes you too, also romantically. and we wanna know if… you’d go out with us?”

- will just nodded along, letting nico dominate the conversation.

- that… hadn’t been what you were expecting.

- it wasn’t like the possibility of polyamory with the two had never crossed your mind - it had crossed your mind a lot - but only ever as a fantasy! you had never expected it to become an actual possibility.

- but you weren’t gonna let such a good opportunity pass you by- “yeah! of- of course i’d want that!”

- will’s face broke into a grin, and nico had a small smile.

- “cool,” nico muttered, pink slowly creeping up his cheeks.

- will chuckled and grabbed your hand with his free one. “yeah, cool! now, how about dinner? the three of us?”

[urmom3001]

Apollo’s Favorite (Luke Catellan X Reader)

Summary: Reader gets called upon a quest from her father, a quest where she is destined to never return. Very much similar to Yue in Avatar the last air bender

Warnings!: angsty ish. Fem!Apollo!reader. No happy ending sorta? Erm not proof read😔😔

Percy had just gotten to Camp yesterday. Poor boy, just lost his mother, put into a camp with a bunch of strangers. Percy was rethinking all of his life’s choices when he finally snapped out of it and realised it was all real. He was here, with the counselor of Hermes cabin learning the “Ins and the Outs” at camp.

As they walked they walked around the U shaped cabins they passed Cabin 7. Percy was very attentive and noticed how beautiful the cabin shined. How the sun reflected off of the carefully, crafted pillars of the building. As he admired the cabin..which was way better than Hermes Cabin. He read the plaque just above the doors of the cabin and he noticed a wooden bow and arrow with intricate gold detailing just above the door of the cabin and under the plaque.

“In Great Thanks to Y/n L/n…” Percy read in his head of off plaque. “Hey Luke?” Percy turned to his left,

“Yeah?” Luke answered

“Who’s Y/n L/n, sounds like she’s got a whole bunch of glory.” Percy joked

Luke thought to himself, he looked like he was reminiscing. This alarmed Percy, maybe he hit a soft spot and he didn’t know?

“Yeah she has a lot of glory. She’s known as Apollo’s Favorite”

- Last Year Around the Summer Solstice-

I was shooting arrows at the shooting range when Chiron aproached me. My bow and arrow was my most prized possession, a gift, from my father. Being Apollo’s favorite was, pressuring and nerve racking. The Gods were very bipolar, it could’ve changed in an instant. If you keep trying to understand why the Gods are the way that they are, you’ll drive yourself crazy.

“They are ready for you to choose.” Chiron continued “Follow me” he gestured and he started walking.

I wordlessly followed. I didn’t know who to choose. I knew one thing though, I wasn’t choosing him. I was terrified. The Oracle is always confusing, but this one was very crystal clear.

“One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home”

Everyone that attended Camp Half-Blood knew it as home. Somewhere they could belong. One of the three of us is not making it back.

As we got closer to the circle of the camps best, my stomach was churning the words of the Oracle repeating in my head. How would Luke react when I don’t pick him? We go on each others quest all the time. But this one, I just. I don’t think I could live if Luke is the one who didn’t return.

I stood there before all of them. I pointed at an Ares girl, Clarisse, I think. She’s a fierce fighter. “You….and..” I hesitated. I looked at Luke, he was looking straight back at me. “You.” I pointed to one of my half brothers that was right next to him. The look of betrayal showed on his face.

“Very well” Chiron announced. “Pack everything you will need. Your journey will begin Tomorrow morning, and your deadline is, The Summer Solstice.”

I watched as everyone walked away, everyone but Luke of course. I tried to start walking away before he could say anything to me.

I started but he followed “ What the hell was that?” He asked, he sounded furious.

“What do you mean Castellan?” I always called him by his last name.

“You know what I mean L/n” And he called me by mines.

“Because you don’t understand what’s at stake here. This quest changes everything.” I said.

“So why didn’t you choose me. We always go on eachothers quest.” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter. I need to pack my-“ I started walked as fast as I could now. He cut my words off.

“What’s going on L/n?? What the the hell did the Oracle say to you. I don’t understand why you didn’t choose me”

At this point I was fed up. It was too much. One of us is going to die. It could be me, or it could be one of the other two.

“BECAUSE ONE OF US ISN’T GOING TO MAKE IT BACK.” I finally shouted. I could never keep anything away from Luke Castellan.

“Wha-what?” He stammered.

“One of us, isn’t. Going. To make it. The Oracle said to me. ‘One soul is destined to never return back to the place they once called home’ Don’t you get it?? One of us isn’t coming back. And I’m not going to let you onto this quest because I don’t know what I would do if you died because of me.” I finally let out with a sigh. “Now please, I need to pack.” I left him there. He didn’t say anything as I walked away.

I finally made it back to cabin 7. What if I was the one that would die? I’ve never been scared of death. I always sort of knew my father was going to give me a choice of something being his favorite and all. I never even desired glory. I just wanted to be a kid.

Everyone else was at the archery range or doing other camp activities, so the cabin was empty when I arrived. I started to pack my things. Some clothes, some medicines I had made, and other needs. Finally I looked at my bunk. Above my pillow hung my bow and arrows. Of course I was taking my bow and arrow. I carefully took it off the holder on the wall and placed it on my bag. The mist will cover it once we are in the regular world.

I was almost done when I heard a knock. I knew who it was. If it was one of my siblings they would’ve just come in. “Come in!” I shouted. I was working on making more medicine for the quest.

“Hi Castellan” I said with my back turned to him.

“Refuse the quest.” He said.

“Excuse me? I can’t refuse a quest from my father himself are you nuts?” I didn’t turn to look at him, still working on the ambrosia mixture.

“What if it’s you?” He said, I swear I heard the smallest crack in his voice.

I finally turned to look at him. He was worried I can tell.

“Then it is me. I will die a very famous glorious death.” I said half jokingly.

“This isn’t funny, you can’t die on me Y/n I need you.” He came closer.

My first name coming from him made me wince. He’d only ever called me Y/n when he wanted me to take him serious.

“Luke, everything is going to be okay.” I walked to him and grabbed his hands. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Always?” He asked as we interlocked hands.

“Always.” I confirmed with a smile. “Come on, Dinner’s gonna begin soon, and I can’t wait for desert they’re having strawberry shortcake!” I said as I dragged him towards the door. I could finish my medicine later.

“Alright alright.” He followed…not that he had a choice or anything.

-Morning of The Quest-

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye?” I heard Luke say.

I turned around and ran to hug him. “It was too early. I didn’t want to bother you I-“ he cut me off

“Y/n.” I finally looked at him in the eyes. Taking in all of him. If I didn’t come back, this would be the last time I would see him. “You could never bother me” he finished his sentence.

“Okay, I’m sorry, but I really need to get going” I said.

“Right, uhm. Before you go I…” he hesitated.

“You…?” I quipped to make fun of him.

“I uhm wanted to give you this.” He handed me a bracelet, it had all of my favorite colors and it was simple. Just how I liked it. I loved it. “And I have a matching one!”

“Luke, this is..” I looked up at him. “Amazing, thank you I love it. I’ll wear it for the rest of my life.” I hugged him, tighter than I ever had before. This could be our last hug after all.

“Come on!!! STOP MACKING WITH MY SISTER WE NEED TO GET GOING!!” My half brother shouted.

“Leo SHUT UP.” I shouted back.

“You should get going” he said as he hugged me.

“Yeah.” I said disappointedly. “Luke?”

“Yeah?” He looked down. And I finally looked up at him for the last time. And I kissed him. I had never kissed anyone before. But I’m glad I kissed Luke. He kissed me back, and it was like we were made for each other. Like plato had sculpted us out perfectly for eachother. After what seemed like forever we pulled apart foreheads pushed together.

“Don’t die on me. Okay?” He said as he he looked into my eyes.

“You’re never getting rid of me Castellan” I smirked as I started walking away.

And so we set off on our quest, hoping for the best. As I looked back at camp over my shoulder. I saw Luke standing there waiting for me to leave his line of sight before going back to his cabin. He waved as a looked back. And I waved too.

-Current Day, Camp Half-Blood-

“She’s the soul of the Sun now.” Luke answered monotonely. “Every century, Apollo picks a new soul to be the Sun, otherwise the Sun wouldn’t shine without a soul.” He explained to Percy. “Y/n L/n was the soul he chose to be the next Sun. We didn’t think it would be Y/n. Everyone knew she was Apollo’s favorite but, we didn’t know the reason she was, was because she was the next Sun.” He said.

“So this Y/n girl, she’s..that?” Percy said as he pointed to the sun.

“Yup.” Luke confirmed.

“She went into the quest knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it. She knew there was a big chance it was going to be her but, she went on the quest anyway.” Luke went into detail.

“Wow she’s..really brave. I guess that’s why she has a plaque in her honor?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, her siblings fought for it to be done. She was so young you know? She was, brave, kind, and so smart. She was amazing.” Luke noticed he might’ve said a little too much when Percy questioned.

“Were you close with her?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, she was..we were..it’s complicated.” Luke muttered.

“You guys loved eachother..huh?” Percy picked up.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I loved her a lot. I never got to tell her. How could I not though? She was so perfect. Down to earth. She never wanted all of the glory and monsters. You know?” Luke said. He hadn’t talked abt Y/n in ages. Of course she was always on his mind. But he never really talked about her anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to.

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” Percy felt exactly like Y/n. He didn’t want to be a half blood. He didn’t want glory. He didn’t want any of this.

“Well, uhm. We should get going, we have a tight schedule.” Luke said as he started walking away. Percy followed. As they walked together. Percy noticed Luke adjusting a bracelet on his wrist a lot after talking about Y/n.

“Yup..” Percy thought to himself “ …Definitely hit a soft spot.”

A/n: Ermmmmmm this is my first work pls be nice😔😔💔💔💔 constructive criticism is VERY much welcome and erm I hope u enjoyed :3

[ax-cx]

INTOXICATING

Luke Castellan x Fem!OC

slight Pervy!Luke and Toxic!Luke

Warnings: swearing, heavy make out, mentions of slight stalking, super obsessed Luke, mention of drugs, flirting

Just pure fluffy love really

“You can’t keep dancing with the devil and ask why you’re still in hell.”

Intoxicating

adjective

- (of alcoholic drink or a drug) liable to cause someone to lose control of their faculties or behaviour.

- exhilarating or exciting.

- "an intoxicating sense of freedom"

Laila was intoxicating. Just looking at her made my mind run miles. Her beautiful brown hair, falling down over her shoulders. Her beautiful green eyes, glinting when she looks up at me. Her beautiful smile, contagious and bubbly.

Fuck man, I’m so done for. The way she says my name, gods help me.

“Luke.” soft, sweet and silky. Just imagine how it’d sound beneath- no shut up Luke. She’s perfect. Don’t ruin her.

“Yes sweetheart?” oh gods, stop looking at me like that dollface. Can’t you see me melting here?

“I need your help.” her cheeks reddened. Like strawberries and summer sun.

I can’t be this crazy for a girl, right? I’m just Luke. I’m the best swordsman at camp, son of Hermes, and a silly little Demeter girl can’t make me feel this way. Even though she picks flowers everywhere she goes, and the roses greet her like an old friend; even though the shrubs and plants seem to bloom brighter when she walks past, nature pouring from every pore of her pure soul.

“Of course Laila, what do you need?” my voice was shaky, of course it was. She was so fucking stunning my heart hurt. She gave me a headache and a high I couldn’t chase anywhere else. So I was her little servant instead.

She wanted help? Always. Can’t choose an outfit? Sweetheart you look perfect in blue. Someone giving her a hard time? I’ll fucking kill them. She wants food? I’ll get her anything. That bracelet’s cute? Bought it already.

I followed her like a wolf trailing behind a little lamb. All I wanted was her aura, her devilishly inducing soul. I’d do anything she asked. I’d burn the goddamn world to the ground. Just to make her happy. Anything to see her smile.

Chris told me I was obsessed. Maybe I am. Just a little. Just a lot. She takes up my every waking thought, tying up my mind in flowers and thorns, sweet smiles and sugary sounds. The way she walked. The way she talked.

I found myself hidden outside her window, looking in on her dressing once. Like a child outside a candy shop, my face was pressed to glass so hard I nearly fell through. The curves of her body, the scars on her knees, the freckles across her shoulders and clavicle. She rivalled Aphrodite, the fucking beauty she is.

“I need a new bikini and I don’t know which one to get.” fuck. How am I meant to hold myself back now? Surely she’s trying to kill me.

“Laila you look great in anything. But-“

“Blue’s your favourite colour, I know Luke, I know.” Laila I’m begging you, don’t put a blue bikini on, I might fuck up this perfect relationship. “So I picked out two blue ones but I don’t know which ones better.”

Oh god. I could feel my blood going south already. I watched as she slipped into the changing room, drawing the curtain, metal scraping metal. I listened as she shuffled, watched her clothes hit the floor and the shadows of her curves pulling the material on. I hated how long I waited, I was dying to see her.

I was dying to see my girl.

Metal scraping metal, and a soft whisper. “Luke?” my eyes met perfection.

Shamelessly letting my eyes wander, the blue fabric was tastefully perfect on her sun-bronzed skin. I’d forever be grateful for Apollo for how he made her shine. Her hips, her breasts, smattered with freckles and battle scars, marred in its most perfect form. Glowing and radiant. A princess in its finest definition. My beautiful drug. Little shells and gold trinkets were looped into the mesh, woven into the blue and trailing down her ribs and thighs.

Her hair was tucked behind her ears, her face on full display. Strawberries and summer sun dancing across her cheeks. Playful freckles smeared on her skin, full lips pulled into a meek grin. I stood up, and took her chin by the finger, lifting her embarrassed eyes to meet mine. I saw her curl in on herself.

“Laila you don’t need to be ashamed. You look great.” great. A disgusting understatement for how ethereal she looked. Aphrodite worked her magic and worked hard on her. The word felt filthy on my tongue. A princess like her needed to be praised and showered in the filthiest compliments, degraded by affection and ruined by attention. She glowed, and the world stopped.

I couldn’t hear a thing but my heartbeat. Racing, trying to tear from my chest and embrace hers. Her eyes gleamed, and I felt my resolve crumble. My confidence, my senses, my mind and soul falling to bare parts of who I am.

A man so effortlessly infatuated with a woman.

Losing all my thoughts, all my being, I melted into her. I gave up, finally leaning into my instincts and pressing my lips to hers.

They say your first kiss with a person you love is like fireworks. Your lips ignite and everything feels right.

It’s a lie. It’s like a fucking war. Winning and losing, fighting and failing. Kissing the girl I’m completely besotted with. Fuck. Her lips were heaven on earth, soft and plump, the perfect fit to mine. Gods this girl was meant for me. I truly must’ve been blessed, for finding a girl that just fits effortlessly, lips the missing piece to my fucked up puzzle, is a one in a billion girl.

I reluctantly pulled my lips from hers, immediately missing the warmth that bloomed in my chest, the warmth of her lips.

“Laila I’m so sorry.” she blinked, once, twice, still processing what is just done. I’d fucked it, I’d royally fucked it. “I couldn’t, I just couldn’t help my-“

My breath cut short, her fingers pulled on my belt loops, pulling me in, roping me further into her spell. She kissed me. Crashing our lips together, all teeth and tongue, all love and war. My perfect girl perfectly kissing me. My eyes were shut so tight, sight a pathetic sense when compared to her taste, her smell, her feel. Like the world was put right.

My hands swallowed her hips, kneading the supple bronze flesh. She was gold personified. Glowing, valuable and just stunning. Her skin was putty in my hands, the perfect golden feeling against my calloused hands. Soft and untouched. All mine to ruin.

I almost felt bad. Touching something so celestial, with my broken and damaged hands. With my plans and my anger. With my disgust and falsified details. With my wrath and rage. With my betrayal and my suffering. But I didn’t care. My care was out the window as soon as she kissed me. I finally got to be selfish for once. Thinking only of myself for once.

She was pure sugar. Addicting, intoxicating. Like my own personal cocaine.

Her hands were woven into my curls, like the soft curves of a tapestry twisting a timeless tale. This is a moment to remember for as long as I live, something I don’t ever want to forget.

She pulled her lips from mine, and my lips ached for the contact again. “So this one?” she grinned, her beautiful beautiful smile on her beautiful beautiful lips.

“I’ll get you both princess.”

My beautiful drug.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Rule 3: Don’t let the lines blur between your sugar daddy and your personal or professional life.

There were five rules to being a sugar baby—or so you’d heard.

If an opportunity falls into your lap, you take it.

Everything is purely transactional.

Don’t let the lines blur between your sugar daddy and your personal or professional life.

Never meet anyone in his inner circle—no close friends, no family.

Unless it’s in writing, underlined, signed by two lawyers, and you get a new Hermes handbag afterward, don’t fuck your sugar daddy.

So why was it so damn hard to keep these rules in place when it came to your CEO Remy LeBeau?

It had been a month since your whirlwind trip to the Caribbean. The sun-drenched beaches and luxurious villa now felt like a distant memory, almost dreamlike in comparison to the steady rhythm of daily life that had resumed back home. There hadn’t been any lavish getaways since then—no private jets, no sprawling estates, no tropical breezes carrying away your worries. But despite the return to reality, there were still moments when your world felt touched by that same sense of indulgence, thanks to Remy.

Though the everyday grind had crept back in, Remy made sure to remind you that your time together wasn’t confined to exotic vacations. He had a way of turning even the simplest days into something special. Some mornings, you’d walk into the office and find a beautifully wrapped box waiting on your desk—its contents never failing to surprise you. One day, it was an elegant silk scarf, hand-stitched in Italy, the kind of luxury accessory you’d never have thought to buy for yourself. His note had simply read, Thought this would look good on ya.

Another time, after a particularly grueling week at work, Remy had whisked you away to a quiet dinner at a secluded rooftop restaurant. The city lights had shimmered below as he handed you a small, delicate bracelet—gold, with tiny emeralds embedded around its circumference. “To match your eyes,” he’d said with a wolfish grin, though the sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

There were other gifts too—lavish perfumes from Paris, a pair of designer heels he'd casually gave you over lunch one afternoon, and even a limited-edition watch that gleamed on your wrist, one he'd given you with the offhand comment, ‘Figured y’ could use somethin’ t’ keep track o’ time, since y’ always losin’ it.’

But despite the lavish gestures, life had largely returned to its usual rhythm—work, deadlines, and the endless hum of the office. You and Yelena were huddled by the breakroom counter, barely holding it together as laughter bubbled between the two of you. Yelena had just finished a spot-on impression of Jane, her voice pitched high, mimicking the way Jane had stormed into the office earlier, waving papers around like they were on fire.

“And then she slam folder down, like this—” Yelena smacked her hand against the counter, sending the sugar packets scattering, “—and said, I swear, if I have to clean up  intern’s mess, I will personally hunt down their entire family tree and make sure incompetence is hereditary!”

You were doubled over, clutching your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. “I thought she was going to throw the entire printer at him!” you gasped, tears of laughter pricking at your eyes. “He looked like he was ready to crawl under the desk and never come out.”

Yelena grinned, shaking her head. “Poor kid. He didn’t even know what hit him. Jane’s like tornado in heels.”

You snorted, lifting your cup of tea for a sip, still grinning from ear to ear. “And all of that over a missed deadline for the monthly projection report. You’d think the world was ending.”

Yelena leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms with a smirk. “To Jane, probably was.”

You and Yelena were still laughing about Jane’s meltdown when the door to the breakroom swung open. Remy strolled in, his presence commanding the space immediately, his usual smirk already in place. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and teasing. “Didn’t expect t’ find the office comedians hidin’ out in here. Thought y’all were hard at work.”

You shot him a playful glare, barely keeping a straight face. “We are hard at work,” you said, leaning back against the counter. “This is called team-building. You should try it sometime.”

Yelena, standing next to you, snorted but remained silent, her eyes flicking between you and Remy with a curious glint. She folded her arms, clearly intrigued, but content to watch the exchange unfold.

“Team-building, huh?” Remy pushed himself off the doorframe, strolling farther into the room, his eyes locked on you. “Looks more like y’all are slackin’ off. I should probably dock your pay for this.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in mock defiance. “Dock my pay? Please. I’m more productive than half the people in this office combined.”

Remy’s smirk deepened as he moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “That so? Well, as the CEO of the place, I’ll be the judge of that.”

Yelena raised her eyebrows, watching intently, but she said nothing, clearly entertained by the banter. You could practically feel her eyes boring into the two of you as the tension in the room shifted.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes but unable to fully suppress a grin. “Oh, right. Mr. Owner of the company. Remind me again, how often do you actually work? Or do you just wander around charming everyone and collecting paychecks?”

Remy chuckled, stepping even closer, his voice dropping to that familiar low, teasing tone that always seemed to make your pulse quicken. “I like t’ think of it as delegatin’. Keeps things runnin’ smooth. Plus, I got talented people like y’ t’ do all the heavy liftin’ for me.”

Yelena let out a quiet laugh, clearly loving every second of this. “This is… fascinating,” she murmured, mostly to herself, but loud enough for you to hear. Her eyes were practically sparkling with curiosity as she watched the back-and-forth unfold.

You shot Yelena a quick glance before turning your attention back to Remy, your arms still crossed, but a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, well, maybe if you did some of the heavy lifting yourself, you'd know what real work looks like.”

Remy leaned against the counter next to you, his smirk softening into something a little more genuine, though still laced with amusement. “Y’ tryin’ t’ say I’m just a pretty face, chère?”

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze head-on. “If the shoe fits…”

Yelena let out an exaggerated gasp, covering her mouth as if scandalized. “Oh my God,” she teased, eyes wide with mock shock. “Did you insult the boss?”

Remy grinned, his eyes never leaving yours. “Don’t worry, Yelena. I like it when she talks dirty. Keeps things interestin’.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the laughter bubbling up. “Of course you do. You love the challenge.”

“Love it?” Remy echoed, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone that made your breath hitch. “Live for it.”

Yelena, clearly sensing the tension between you two, smirked and took a step back, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, watching with barely concealed amusement. “I feel I should leave you alone,” she said, though she made no move to actually leave. “But this too good to miss.”

You turned to her, trying to keep a straight face. “We’re just talking.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, her grin widening. “Sure. Just talking. This how everyone talks to guy who owns company, right?”

Remy chuckled, his gaze flicking briefly to Yelena before returning to you. “I’m a very hands-off boss,” he said, his tone laced with innuendo. “I let people get away with murder… as long as they keep things fun.”

Yelena snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that what you tell yourself.” She glanced at you, her expression playful. “Just don’t let him get distracted, okay? I don’t need Jane coming after me next for whatever report you supposed to be finishing.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Don’t worry, Yelena. I can handle Remy and get my work done.”

Remy’s smirk grew, his voice dripping with amusement. “Handle me, huh? That sounds like a challenge, chère.”

Before you could respond, Yelena shook her head, laughing softly as she grabbed her coffee from the counter. “I am out,” she said, making her way toward the door. “I’ll leave you two… whatever this is.”

You shot her a mock glare, your face warming slightly. “Traitor.”

Yelena winked as she passed. “Good luck,” she teased, giving Remy a playful nod before slipping out of the room.

Now it was just you and Remy, the air between you practically buzzing with the unspoken tension. He leaned against the counter beside you, his eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, lazy confidence.

“So,” he drawled, his voice dropping a little lower, “y’ still gonna pretend y’ don’t enjoy our little exchanges, or y’ finally gonna admit y’ like keepin’ me on my toes?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break free. “Maybe,” you said, your tone light but your heart racing, “but I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

His grin widened, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, chère.”

You shook your head, laughing softly, the tension between you two simmering just beneath the surface, always there, always waiting to flare up again. The playful tension between you and Remy lingered in the breakroom, the air buzzing with the sort of energy that always seemed to follow whenever the two of you were alone. His eyes were still locked on yours, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You could feel the heat of his gaze, and despite your best efforts to keep things casual, your pulse quickened.

He straightened up slightly, his expression shifting just enough to catch your attention. The playful glint in his eyes remained, but there was something else there now—something more deliberate.

“Tell y’ what,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Why don’t y’ come up to my office at lunch?”

You raised an eyebrow, your interest piqued. “Your office?”

He nodded, leaning in just a little closer, his voice dropping even more, like he was letting you in on a secret. “Yeah. I’ve got somethin’ I wanna show ya.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity taking over. “Something you want to show me? That sounds… suspicious.”

Remy chuckled, the sound low and warm, the kind of laugh that always made your stomach do a little flip. “Trust me, chère. It’s worth your time.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the grin creeping onto your face. “Oh really? This isn’t just an excuse to get me alone in your office, is it?”

His smirk widened, the teasing glint in his eyes dancing in the soft light of the breakroom. “Now, would I do somethin’ like that?”

You shot him a knowing look, one eyebrow raised. “Yes. Yes, you would. That’s exactly something you’d do.”

Remy held up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Alright, y’ caught me. But this time, I promise—there’s actually somethin’ important I wanna show ya.”

You tilted your head, considering him for a moment. There was something in his tone, a seriousness beneath the usual teasing, that made you believe he wasn’t just messing around. Still, you couldn’t resist keeping the banter going. “Fine. But if this turns out to be some elaborate prank, I’m holding it over your head forever.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Fair enough. I’ll take that risk.”

You shook your head, chuckling softly. “Alright, lunch it is. I’ll be up there.”

Remy gave you a wink, turning to leave the breakroom, but not before throwing one last playful comment over his shoulder. “Don’t keep me waitin’, chère. I’m not a patient man.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips as you watched him walk out. The door swung shut behind him, and the room felt quieter, like he’d taken all the energy with him. You stood there for a moment, still processing the exchange, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and anticipation bubbling up inside you.

What could he possibly have to show you? Knowing Remy, it could be anything, but there was something about the way he’d said it that made you think this wasn’t just some casual flirtation. Whatever it was, you were intrigued.

As you turned back to your tea, Yelena’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts.

“So,” she said, her tone rich with amusement as she leaned against the doorframe, clearly having lingered just outside, “what that about?”

You nearly jumped, glancing over at her with wide eyes. “How long have you been standing there?”

Yelena shrugged, her grin widening. “Long enough to hear that he got something to show you in office.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “So,” she said, her tone layered with curiosity and amusement. “What really going on between you and Remy?”

You blinked, turning to look at her. “What do you mean?”

Yelena gave you a pointed look, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb with me. No boss talk to employee like that unless something going on. Not unless he got zero fear of sexual harassment suit.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly turned back to your half-empty cup of tea, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s not like that.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Right. So, let me get this straight—he owns company, flirts with you constantly, and now he’s asked you to come up to his office for ‘special meeting’ at lunch. And you expect me believe there nothing?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “We’re just… bantering. That’s how he is with everyone. Yelena snorted, shaking her head. “No. The way he look at you? That not ‘everyone.’ That’s specific. And don’t even try tell me you haven’t noticed.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the flutter in your chest. Of course, you’d noticed. How could you not? The way Remy’s eyes always seemed to linger on you just a little too long, the way his voice dropped when he spoke to you, like you were the only person in the room. But admitting that to Yelena, especially when you weren’t sure what to make of it yourself, felt like stepping into dangerous territory.

“It’s just… harmless flirting,” you said, though your voice lacked the confidence you’d hoped for. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“Uh-huh,” Yelena replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve seen the way he‘like that’ with everyone. Trust me, it’s not the same.”

You sighed again, leaning back against the counter and staring into your tea. “Okay, fine. He flirts. A lot. But it doesn’t mean there’s anything going on.”

Yelena studied you for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly like she was trying to read between the lines of what you weren’t saying. “You sure about that? Because I’ve seen way you look at him too.”

You felt your pulse quicken, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the sugar packets scattered across the counter. “What are you talking about?”

Yelena smirked, clearly enjoying this. “You think I haven’t noticed? You get all flustered when he’s around. And don’t even get me started on how you bite your lip when he talking to you. It’s like a scene straight out of rom-com.”

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. “I don’t bite my lip.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh, you definitely do.”

You shook your head, refusing to meet her eyes. “It’s not like that. I’m just… It’s complicated.”

“Complicated,” Yelena repeated, leaning in slightly. “I see. So, it’s not you don’t like him, it’s that you’re trying figure out what do about it.”

You glared at her, though there was no real heat in it. “You’re way too invested in this.”

Yelena grinned, unbothered by your attempt at deflection. “Can you blame me? It’s like watching a slow-burn romance unfold in real time. I just waiting for one of you to finally make move.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not a romance.”

“Yet,” Yelena added with a wink.

You sighed, shifting your weight as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Look, even if I did… feel something,” you said carefully, “he’s still my boss. And I don’t need that kind of complication in my life.”

Yelena nodded, her expression softening a little. “I get that. But from where I stand, it like he’s already made his move. And if it’s same, maybe it’s worth figuring out?”

You bit your lip again, her words sinking in. “Maybe. But it’s still risky.”

Yelena shrugged, her smirk returning. “Life is risky. But you could do worse than guy who owns the company and can’t stop looking at you like you only person room.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Someone gotta keep you honest,” Yelena replied with a grin. “Now, go have your ‘lunch meeting’ with boss. And hey, if he showing you anything that not safe for work, feel free to skip details when you get back.”

You groaned, playfully shoving her as you grabbed your tea and headed for the door. “You’re the worst.”

Yelena laughed, waving you off. “Just don’t keep him waiting. You know how impatient he gets.”

As you walked back to your desk, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, though that familiar flutter of anticipation was still buzzing in your chest. Lunch couldn’t come fast enough.

As lunch hour finally rolled around, you could feel the weight of anticipation growing with every step you took toward Remy’s office. You tried to play it cool, reminding yourself that whatever this was, it was just another one of his games—another round of the lighthearted banter that always seemed to pull you closer to him, no matter how hard you tried to resist.

Still, as you reached the door to his office, your heart gave a little flutter. You took a deep breath before knocking, and almost immediately, you heard his familiar, smooth voice call out, “Come in, chère.”

You pushed the door open to find him leaning back in his chair, that signature smirk firmly in place as his eyes met yours. The office was filled with soft sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting a warm glow over everything. He looked effortlessly at ease, as always, like he had all the time in the world.

“Look who made it,” he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement as you stepped inside. “I was startin’ t’ think y’ got cold feet.”

You rolled your eyes, shutting the door behind you. “Please, Remy. You’re not that intimidating.”

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his desk. “Oh, I’d never dream o’ intimidatin’ y’. Y’ too tough for that.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a playful look. “So, what’s so important that I had to come all the way up here?”

As Remy rounded the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt a wave of unease ripple through you. It wasn’t fear, exactly—Remy had never given you a reason to feel afraid of him—but there was always something about him that made you feel as though you were constantly on the edge of something. A precipice, maybe. A cliff you couldn’t quite see over. And now, as he came to a stop just inches in front of you, that feeling was more pronounced than ever.

His eyes, sharp and calculating as always, flicked over your face like he was trying to read your every thought, your every emotion. You could feel your pulse quicken under that gaze, heat rising to your cheeks despite your best efforts to maintain composure. He was infuriating in how easily he could unnerve you with just a look, a smirk, a raised brow. And when he held out his hand, you couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into dangerous territory, even though you had no idea what was coming next.

You arched an eyebrow, letting your gaze flick down to his outstretched hand before meeting his eyes again. “What’s this?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and wariness.

His smile softened, but that teasing glint never left his eyes. “Take my hand, chère,” he said, his voice low, that familiar drawl wrapping around you like a slow-burning flame. “I got somethin’ we need t’ talk about.”

There was something about the way he said it, something in the weight of his words, that made your chest tighten. Despite the easygoing smile on his face, there was a seriousness in his tone that you couldn’t ignore. You hesitated, just for a second, wondering if you should brace yourself for whatever conversation was about to unfold. But you knew Remy—he wasn’t going to let this go. There was always a purpose behind every word, every movement, even when he made it seem like there wasn’t.

So, after a brief pause, you slid your hand into his. His grip was firm, warm, and a little too familiar. The moment your fingers intertwined, your heart skipped a beat. His thumb brushed softly over your knuckles, sending a jolt of something—awareness, a quiet thrill—through you. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, how that simple touch made you feel both grounded and completely untethered at the same time.

And then he looked at you, his expression shifting from playful to something more intense. More serious. The weight of whatever this was settled in the air between you, thick and undeniable.

“I’ve noticed somethin’,” he said, his voice steady, but soft enough that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Y’ been payin’ your rent on the card.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could even think, your eyes widened in shock. Instinctively, you tried to yank your hand back, as if pulling away from him would somehow make the situation less real, less intimate. But Remy held on, his grip firm, his gaze unwavering. There was no running from this.

“Remy, I—" you started, the words tumbling out in a rush, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low but commanding. He wasn’t angry, you could tell that much. In fact, his tone was almost gentle, but it held a kind of finality that warned you not to argue. “Don’t y’ worry. I ain’t mad. Just think it’s time we had a little chat ‘bout it.”

You swallowed hard, trying to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. You wanted to explain, to make him understand that you hadn’t meant to take advantage, that things had just gotten out of hand. But the way he was looking at you—steady, unblinking, like he could see right through you—made it impossible to form a coherent thought. You felt exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Look,” you said, your voice much quieter now, “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t want you to think I was using you.”

Remy’s expression softened, and for a moment, something like understanding flickered in his eyes. He gave your hand another gentle squeeze, pulling you just a little closer as if to assure you that he wasn’t upset, wasn’t accusing you of anything.

“I know y’ better than that,” he said quietly. “Ain’t about that. I just wanna know what’s goin’ on with y’. Is everythin’ alright?”

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself staring at him, unsure of how to respond. Was everything alright? No, not really. But you hadn’t expected him to ask, hadn’t expected him to care beyond the superficial. Remy was always so smooth, so detached from anything too serious. But now, standing this close, his hand still wrapped around yours, you realized this was different. He wasn’t just making small talk. He was genuinely concerned.

“I…” You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s just been tough, okay? My landlord raised the rent again last week, and I’m barely making enough to cover my share of it. I didn’t want to ask you for a raise so I thought I could just use the card.”

For the first time, Remy’s smirk faded completely, replaced by something quieter, something more thoughtful.

“Why didn’t y’ say somethin’ sooner?” he asked softly. There was no judgment in his voice, just a quiet question that made your chest ache, “I mean, that’s why I gave ya the card. But if y’ need help, y’ jus’ have t’ ask.”

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed now, even though you knew you didn’t need to be. “Because I can handle my own stuff.”

Remy’s lips curved into a small, almost sad smile. “It’s not a problem. Not to me.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you now, made your heart twist in your chest. You weren’t used to this from him—this rawness, this openness. And it scared you a little, how easily he could see through your defenses, how easily he had broken through the walls you’d built to protect yourself.

Before you had a chance to respond, Remy tugged on your hand again, pulling you just a little closer, until you were standing right in front of him, the space between you all but nonexistent.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low but firm. There was no room for argument, no room for hesitation. And despite the flurry of emotions buzzing in your mind—confusion, fear, gratitude, something else you couldn’t quite name—you found yourself nodding.

As you stepped into the hallway, the bustling office atmosphere seemed to shift. The usual hum of conversation and keyboard clicks faded into a palpable silence, broken only by the sound of Remy's confident footsteps and your slightly hesitant ones. You could feel the weight of curious stares from your coworkers, their gazes following your linked hands with poorly concealed interest.

Remy, however, appeared entirely unfazed. He walked with his characteristic easy confidence, his posture relaxed yet purposeful. As you passed by cubicles and conference rooms, he offered polite nods to those who caught his eye, but his grip on your hand remained steady, grounding you amidst the growing whispers.

You felt a ripple of unease coursing through you. The warmth of Remy's hand in yours was both comforting and disconcerting, a stark reminder of the undefined nature of your relationship. You could almost hear the rumor mill starting to churn, could practically see the raised eyebrows and knowing smirks. Your cheeks burned, and you found yourself wishing you could disappear into the plush carpet beneath your feet.

Just as the weight of the stares became almost unbearable, Remy pushed open the glass doors of the office building. The crisp afternoon air hit you like a refreshing wave, carrying with it the scents of the city - car exhaust, nearby food vendors, and the faint aroma of coffee from a nearby café. You blinked rapidly, momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness of the sun after the dimmer office lighting.

Remy's pace didn't slow. He led you down the wide stone steps, his hand still firmly clasping yours. At the curb, a sleek black car waited, its polished surface reflecting the bustling city around it. It was clearly expensive - the kind of vehicle that turned heads and invited whispers of its own.

Without a word, Remy released your hand and moved to open the passenger door. The loss of contact left you feeling strangely bereft, and you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. He motioned for you to climb inside, his expression unreadable - a mask of calm collectedness that revealed nothing of his intentions.

You hesitated, your feet rooted to the sidewalk. Your eyes searched his face, trying to decipher any hint of what was to come. But Remy's features remained impassive, his eyes holding a depth of emotion you couldn't quite place. It was clear that whatever this was, it wasn't a game or one of his usual pranks. There was a seriousness to his demeanor that both intrigued and unnerved you.

The sounds of the city seemed to fade away as you stood there, caught in this moment of indecision. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the faint scent of Remy's cologne. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was to come.

With a small nod, more to yourself than to Remy, you stepped forward and slid into the car's plush leather seat. As Remy closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were crossing a threshold - not just into a car, but into something new and unknown. Your heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as you wondered where this unexpected journey would lead.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Remy glanced over at you, his gaze soft but serious. “Upper East Side,” he said, leaning back into the leather seat with that casual grace he always carried. “There’s somethin’ I wanna show y’. Somethin’ I need your opinion on.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the weight in his tone. My opinion? That wasn’t something you were used to hearing from him, not like this. The Remy you knew was always the one in control, the one with the answers, never one to defer to anyone else’s judgment.

“My opinion?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I trust y’r judgment. I wouldn’t be askin’ if it didn’t matter.”

You stared at him, searching for any trace of his usual teasing or the playful smirk that always danced on his lips, but there was none. He was serious. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just another one of his games or some casual afternoon distraction. This was something bigger.

After a long pause, you nodded. “Okay. What is it?”

Remy’s gaze softened, and he glanced out the window for a moment, watching the city blur by as the car hummed along the busy streets. “You’ll see soon enough,” he said, his voice low. “But I need y’ t’ be honest with me. When I show y’ what I’ve been workin’ on, I want y’ t’ tell me exactly what y’ think.”

Your curiosity was fully piqued now. Remy, the man who coasted through life with effortless charm, always so sure of himself, was asking you for your opinion. And from the tone of his voice, it wasn’t about something trivial—it was about something that mattered to him. Something important.

You leaned back in your seat, your mind racing with possibilities. “Alright,” you agreed quietly. “I’ll be honest.”

He glanced at you again, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Good. That’s all I need.”

The car fell into a calm silence for a moment, the engine’s hum and the soft sounds of the city outside the only noise between you. You watched as the skyscrapers and busy streets turned into the quieter, more pristine avenues of the Upper East Side.

Finally, you couldn’t resist breaking the silence. “So,” you said, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow, “what do you think people are going to say when we get back to the office? You know they’re already talking about us being seen leaving together.”

Remy let out a low chuckle, his grin widening. “Oh, chère, don’t y’ know? The office gossip mill’s probably in full swing already. I give it five minutes before everyone’s got some wild theory ‘bout us.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “Great. That’s exactly what I need—more rumors flying around.”

He shot you a playful glance, his smile turning mischievous. “What, y’ don’t like a little attention? I thought y’ enjoyed keepin’ ‘em on their toes.”

You gave him a mock glare. “You love keeping them on their toes. I’d rather not have everyone thinking I’m sneaking off with the boss for anything but work.”

Remy’s grin deepened, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, chère, I think most of ‘em already suspect there’s more goin’ on than just work.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Well, they can keep wondering. I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”

“Let ‘em wonder,” Remy said with a shrug, turning his gaze back out the window. “Keeps things interestin’.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And y’ love it,” he teased, his voice warm and teasing.

You shot him a sideways glance, but you didn’t deny it. There was something about this—about him—that made everything feel electric, like you were constantly walking the line between what was real and what was just part of his charm. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind. Not as much as you pretended to, anyway.

As the car slowed to a stop, your heart raced slightly, your mind still spinning with questions about what was coming next. Remy opened the door and stepped out, holding out a hand to help you out of the car. You took it, the familiarity of his touch grounding you as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

He led you toward a sleek, modern building with a doorman who greeted him with a polite nod. The moment you stepped inside the building, you were greeted by an air of understated elegance. The lobby was vast and open, with polished marble floors that gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting. The walls were a rich, deep gray, accented by sleek black trim and modern art pieces that gave the space a sophisticated, minimalist feel. A large, abstract sculpture stood in the center of the room, its metallic surface catching the light in subtle, eye-catching ways. The smell of fresh flowers lingered in the air, coming from the oversized arrangement that sat on a glass table near the back, right next to a concierge desk.

The concierge, a sharply dressed man with a professional but warm demeanor, smiled as Remy approached. Without a word, the man handed over a small, sleek swipe card, which Remy accepted with a nod and his typical easygoing charm. He turned back to you, his smirk firmly in place as he walked over, the swipe card held loosely between his fingers.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low and confident as he reached for your hand. His fingers wrapped around yours, and with a gentle tug, he led you toward the elevator.

You followed, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as he pulled you along with that effortless confidence of his. As you reached the brushed steel doors of the elevator, he swiped the card through a small reader, and the doors slid open with a soft chime. He stepped inside, still holding your hand, and pulled you in behind him.

As the elevator began its smooth ascent, you glanced around at the luxurious details—the dark wood paneling on the walls, the soft lighting, and the subtle hum of the elevator as it carried you upward. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, turning to Remy.

“So, what is this place?” you asked, your tone teasing but curious. “Your supervillain lair?”

Remy chuckled, leaning back against the wall of the elevator, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Not quite,” he said, his Louisiana drawl lingering in the air. “Though I gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret lair. Maybe in my next buildin’.”

You shook your head, grinning. “This is a little fancy, even for you. What, are you branching into the real estate business now?”

His smirk widened as he shrugged. “I dabble in a few things. Keeps life interestin’.”

The elevator continued its smooth ascent, and you felt a slight shift in pressure, indicating that you were moving high—really high. You glanced at the panel, noting that there were no buttons for floors, just a small screen indicating the building’s top level.

“So, what’s at the top of this tower of yours?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “A dragon? A hoard of gold?”

Remy chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with something like excitement. “You’ll see soon enough, chère. Just trust me.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “I’m not sure if I should be nervous or impressed.”

“Maybe a little bit o’ both,” he said with a wink.

Just then, the elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open with a soft chime. You stepped out, and the first thing that hit you was the sheer size of the space.

You were standing in a massive penthouse, the kind of place that looked like it belonged in a luxury magazine. The ceilings were high—probably fifteen feet, maybe more—and the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across most of the far wall, offering a breathtaking, panoramic view of the city below. The sunlight poured in, casting a soft, golden glow over the room.

The interior was modern and sleek, with clean lines, rich hardwood floors, and minimalist furniture designed for both style and comfort. There was a massive sectional couch in the center of the room, facing a fireplace that was somehow both elegant and understated. The open-concept design made the space feel even larger, with a kitchen in one corner featuring marble countertops and top-of-the-line appliances.

But it was the view that truly stole your breath.

You found yourself slowly walking over to the windows, your eyes wide as you took in the city below. From this height, you could see nearly everything—the sprawling skyline, the glittering river in the distance, and the endless sea of buildings stretching out toward the horizon. It felt like you were standing on top of the world.

“You weren’t kidding,” you murmured, staring out in awe. “This is… incredible.”

Remy walked up behind you, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. “Figured you’d like it. View’s somethin’, huh?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, this is beautiful… but I probably should’ve mentioned earlier—this might be a terrible time to tell you I’m scared of heights.”

Remy let out a deep, amused laugh, the sound rich and warm, filling the large space between you. “Chère, you’ve been hangin’ out with me long enough. Heights should be the least of y’r worries.”

As his laughter faded, the quiet settled back into the room, and Remy found himself standing there, just watching you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. At first, he wasn’t sure what it was—this sudden stillness, this unfamiliar feeling creeping up on him. He’d spent years perfecting the art of charming and moving through life with a certain carefree ease, never letting anyone get too close, never letting anyone in. But here you were, standing by that enormous window, bathed in the soft afternoon light, and something inside him shifted.

He watched the way your eyes flickered with awe as you took in the view, the city stretching out beneath you like a glittering sea of opportunity and chaos. You were so different from anyone else he’d ever known. You didn’t fawn over him, didn’t fall for his usual tricks or charm. Instead, you challenged him, kept him guessing. Kept him grounded. And for someone like Remy, who was used to coasting through life, always on the move, always one step ahead, that was something new. Something unexpected.

He had brought you here today with the intention of showing you the penthouse—of getting your opinion, sure—but as he stood there, watching you, he realized it was more than that. He wasn’t just seeking your thoughts on the place. He was seeking you. Your presence. Your approval. He trusted you, but more than that, he wanted you to be a part of it. A part of this.

And that terrified him.

He’d never been one for permanence, never been one to settle in any sense of the word. But with you, things felt… different. He wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened—when the easy flirtation had turned into something else, something deeper—but it had snuck up on him in a way that made him feel both out of control and entirely captivated. The way you looked at him, the way your smile softened when you caught him off guard—it was like you saw past all the layers of charm and confidence, past the walls he’d built, and yet, you stayed.

Remy stood there, hands slipping into his pockets as he tried to steady himself against the unfamiliar tug in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not this quickly, not with you. But here he was, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to run from it.

He cleared his throat, more for himself than anything else, trying to shake off the weight of what he was feeling. “Yeah…” he said, his voice a little softer now, more thoughtful, “heights should be the least of y’r worries.”

But even as the words left his lips, his gaze lingered on you. He wasn’t sure if you’d noticed the shift in him—if you could feel it too—but he hoped, in some quiet way, that you did. Because the more time he spent with you, the harder it was to ignore what was happening between you. And while part of him wanted to push it aside, to pretend it wasn’t there, the other part—the part that was standing here now, watching you with a kind of awe—was ready to lean into it. To see where it could go.

For a man like Remy, who had spent his whole life dodging attachments, that was a dangerous thought. But as he looked at you, standing there with that quiet, confident grace, he realized that maybe—just maybe—he was ready for the risk.

Maybe you were worth it.

For a moment, Remy said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable look he often wore when he was calculating something—something you could never quite figure out. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, were softer now, almost contemplative. He let out a small sigh, glancing around the sprawling penthouse as if weighing his next words carefully.

Then, his gaze found yours again. “Alright. Now that we’ve cleared that up, I gotta ask—what do y’ think about this place?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. This place? You tore your gaze from his face and looked around the penthouse for what felt like the hundredth time, still in awe of its sheer size, the luxury that dripped from every corner, from the high ceilings to the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city.

“I mean… it’s amazing,” you said, your voice catching slightly. “But why are you asking me?”

Remy smiled slightly, that familiar glint of mischief creeping back into his eyes, though it was softer now, more measured. “Because I value what y’ think. And I think this place suits y’. In fact—” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small swipe card the concierge had given him earlier. “—I think it should be yours.”

Your breath hitched. You stared at him, your brain immediately rejecting what you thought you’d just heard. Yours?

“Wait. What?” The word came out as a whisper, your voice barely registering in the large room.

Remy stepped closer, holding the swipe card out toward you, the card dangling between his fingers like it was nothing more than an afterthought. “I’m serious, chère. This place is yours. From now on.”

You blinked rapidly, your stomach twisting as you took an instinctive step back, the reality of what he was saying crashing over you like a wave. “What the absolute fuck, Remy?” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but the shock—the absurdity—of the situation was too much.

He let out a low, amused chuckle, the sound warm and rich, his eyes never leaving yours. “That’s the reaction I was expectin’.”

You stared at him, completely floored, your mind swirling with disbelief, confusion, and something else—something that felt like a mixture of fear and wonder. “You can’t just… give me a penthouse. That’s insane.”

Remy shrugged, still holding the card out toward you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Why not? It’s already mine. Y’r rent situation’s a problem. So, I’m fixin’ it. Simple as that.”

You shook your head, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of this. “This isn’t just ‘fixing’ it. This is—this is huge. Remy, I can’t take something like this.”

He stepped even closer, his voice lowering, softening just a little. “Y’ can. And y’ will. I wouldn’t be offerin’ if I didn’t think y’ deserved it.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you, suffocating and freeing all at once. Your mind was racing, trying to find a foothold in the madness of what he was saying. The logical part of you was screaming that this was too much, that you couldn’t accept something so extravagant, something so… permanent.

“But… why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you do something like this for me?”

For a second, you thought he might deflect with a joke, that he’d brush it off with his usual charm. But when his eyes met yours again, the playfulness in his expression faded into something deeper, something far more genuine than you’d ever seen before. His gaze softened, and the air in the room seemed to shift.

“Because I care ‘bout y’, chère.” His voice was low, intimate, like he was sharing a secret he wasn’t quite ready to confess to anyone else. “And y’ don’t need t’ be stressin’ over rent or dealin’ with some crappy landlord. Y’ deserve better than that.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, all the noise in your head—the disbelief, the confusion, the panic—went quiet. It was just him, standing there, holding out that swipe card like it was the most natural thing in the world, like offering you a place in his life was as simple as handing over the keys to a penthouse.

And you? You didn’t know what to feel. There was gratitude, of course—so much gratitude that it almost hurt. But there was also a deep, unsettling fear, a fear that accepting this would change something between you, would shift the balance in a way you couldn’t control. Because this wasn’t just about rent. This wasn’t just about money. This was about him, about the two of you, and about the way his feelings for you were starting to bleed into something more than just playful flirtation.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, your mind racing with the implications of what this meant.

Remy, sensing your hesitation, took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know this is a lot,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “But I wouldn’t be offerin’ if I didn’t mean it. Y’ don’t owe me anything. I just want y’ to have somethin’ that makes life a little easier. That’s all.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was more than just a gesture of kindness. This was a door opening, an invitation into something deeper, something you weren’t sure you were ready for, but something you couldn’t deny was growing between you.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally found your voice. “Remy, I—” You paused, shaking your head, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled softly, his hand still extended toward you, the card waiting between his fingers. “Y’ don’t have t’ say anything, chère. Just… take it.”

And in that moment, with your heart pounding in your chest and your mind racing with a thousand emotions, you reached out and took the card, your fingers brushing against his as you did. His smile widened, a warm, genuine smile that made your chest tighten in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Good,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “Now y’ don’t have t’ worry ‘bout rent anymore. Just focus on y’rself.”

You stared down at the card in your hand, still trying to wrap your mind around what had just happened. But as you looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, you realized that this wasn’t just about the penthouse. This was about him opening a door, offering you a place not just in this apartment, but in his life.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could let yourself walk through that door.

After the initial shock wore off, and the reality of what Remy had just given you began to settle in, you found yourself standing in the middle of a sprawling penthouse that now—somehow—belonged to you. Yours. The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong in your vocabulary, especially when tied to something so extravagant.

Remy had watched you closely, that ever-present smirk playing at his lips, though there was something different in his eyes now—something softer, more thoughtful, like he was letting you in on a secret he wasn’t quite ready to share fully.

“Take the afternoon off,” he’d said, his voice casual, almost nonchalant. “Get acquainted with y’r new place. I’ll even show y’ around.”

And now, here you were, wandering through this breathtaking space with him at your side, his familiar presence both grounding and surreal. Every room you walked into seemed more luxurious than the last, each corner of the penthouse designed to exude a level of elegance and sophistication that was almost dizzying. It was a world of gleaming marble, soft lighting, and the kind of quiet opulence that felt like it belonged to someone else.

But Remy didn’t seem to think so.

At some point, you found yourself in the master bedroom—an expansive space that was flooded with natural light, the tall windows offering a view of the city skyline that could steal anyone’s breath. It was here that Remy lingered by a set of double doors off to the side, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Now, chère,” he drawled, that teasing tone of his thick in the air, “I think y’r gonna like this part.”

You followed him inside, and the moment you stepped through the doors, your breath caught in your throat.

The walk-in wardrobe was like nothing you’d ever seen before.

Rows upon rows of clothes lined the walls, from designer dresses to tailored blazers, each piece arranged with meticulous care. There were racks of shoes—hundreds of them, from stilettos to boots—spanning an entire wall, all displayed like rare artifacts at a museum. At the far end of the wardrobe, glass-topped dressers gleamed under the soft lighting, each drawer filled with accessories—delicate jewelry, silk scarves, sunglasses, all perfectly organized beneath the glass. The whole space was a shrine to luxury, a closet that seemed to belong to someone who lived in a world far removed from your own.

You stood there, frozen in awe, unable to process the sheer grandeur of it. “Remy…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is… this is insane.”

He chuckled softly behind you, stepping closer so that his frame loomed just over your shoulder. “Y’ like it?”

You turned to face him, still trying to wrap your head around the opulence of it all. “Like it? This is beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined. But…” You hesitated, the question pressing at the back of your mind. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Remy’s smirk softened, his eyes gleaming with something deeper, something more sincere than you were used to seeing from him. “Because I think this life suits y’, chère. Whether y’ think so or not.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "I… don’t know if I fit into this world, Remy. I mean, look at this place—look at all of this. It’s beautiful, but this isn’t me.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping closer, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “Y’ think y’ don’t belong here, but I’ve known for a while now that y’ do.”

You frowned, your pulse quickening as his words hung in the air between you. “What do you mean?”

Remy’s gaze softened, and for once, that mischievous glint in his eyes faded into something more serious, more vulnerable. “Ever since that night with Norman Osborn,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with an unspoken weight. “I saw how y’ handled yourself. The way y’ didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, even when that snake was tryin’ t’ rattle y’. Most people would’ve folded under that kind o’ pressure, but not you. And that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

“That y’ fit into this life,” he said simply, his eyes locking onto yours. “That y’ belong here with me. Y’ ain’t just some pretty face or someone who’s along for the ride. Y’ got strength, chère. Y’r sharp, y’r quick on y’r feet… and y’ make all this—” he gestured vaguely around the penthouse, “—seem like somethin’ more than just the usual bullshit.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into you like a stone. You had always seen yourself as an outsider in this world, someone who didn’t quite belong, someone who was just trying to keep up. But Remy—he saw something different. And hearing him say it, hearing him tell you that you fit in a way you’d never believed you could, it stirred something inside you—something warm and terrifying all at once.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” you said quietly, your voice wavering as you met his gaze.

“Y’ don’t have to believe it,” Remy replied, his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. “But I do. And I wouldn’t be offerin’ y’ this—” he motioned to the wardrobe, the penthouse, the life he was slowly opening the door to, “—if I didn’t think y’ deserved every bit of it.”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with emotion. You wanted to protest, to tell him that this was too much, that you couldn’t accept it. But as you stood there, surrounded by the quiet elegance of the wardrobe, with Remy looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, you found yourself at a loss for words.

He stepped closer, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was simmering just beneath the surface. His hand gently brushed over your arm, sending a shiver down your spine, and when he spoke again, his voice was so soft that it almost didn’t feel real.

“Y’ bein’ here, chère,” he murmured, “bein’ by my side on all these trips, all these dinners and lunches… it’s done more for me than y’ realize. Y’ make this life worth livin’.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. You had never imagined that being around him—just being with him—meant so much. But here he was, telling you that you had made a difference in ways you hadn’t even considered.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Remy smiled, a soft, almost bittersweet smile that made your chest tighten. “Y’ don’t have t’ say anythin’, chère. Just… let me take care of y’.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotions you weren’t ready to name. This wasn’t just about the penthouse or the wardrobe. This was about Remy opening up in a way you hadn’t expected, about him letting you into his world, his life, in a way that felt much more permanent than you had ever anticipated.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy but comfortable.

Finally, you smiled softly, your gaze flicking over the wardrobe one last time before meeting his eyes again. “You really think I fit into this life?”

Remy chuckled, his eyes sparkling with that familiar warmth. “I know y’ do.”

And with that, something inside you shifted. Maybe it was the weight of his words, or maybe it was the way he looked at you, but for the first time since you’d stepped into his world, you felt like you might actually belong. After the initial shock wore off, and the reality of what Remy had just given you began to settle in, you found yourself standing in the middle of a sprawling penthouse that now—somehow—belonged to you. Yours. The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong in your vocabulary, especially when tied to something so extravagant.

Remy had watched you closely, that ever-present smirk playing at his lips, though there was something different in his eyes now—something softer, more thoughtful, like he was letting you in on a secret he wasn’t quite ready to share fully.

“Take the afternoon off,” he’d said, his voice casual, almost nonchalant. “Get acquainted with y’r new place. I’ll even show y’ around.”

And now, here you were, wandering through this breathtaking space with him at your side, his familiar presence both grounding and surreal. Every room you walked into seemed more luxurious than the last, each corner of the penthouse designed to exude a level of elegance and sophistication that was almost dizzying. It was a world of gleaming marble, soft lighting, and the kind of quiet opulence that felt like it belonged to someone else.

But Remy didn’t seem to think so.

At some point, you found yourself in the master bedroom—an expansive space that was flooded with natural light, the tall windows offering a view of the city skyline that could steal anyone’s breath. It was here that Remy lingered by a set of double doors off to the side, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Now, chère,” he drawled, that teasing tone of his thick in the air, “I think y’r gonna like this part.”

You followed him inside, and the moment you stepped through the doors, your breath caught in your throat.

The walk-in wardrobe was like nothing you’d ever seen before.

Rows upon rows of clothes lined the walls, from designer dresses to tailored blazers, each piece arranged with meticulous care. There were racks of shoes—hundreds of them, from stilettos to boots—spanning an entire wall, all displayed like rare artifacts at a museum. At the far end of the wardrobe, glass-topped dressers gleamed under the soft lighting, each drawer filled with accessories—delicate jewelry, silk scarves, sunglasses, all perfectly organized beneath the glass. The whole space was a shrine to luxury, a closet that seemed to belong to someone who lived in a world far removed from your own.

You stood there, frozen in awe, unable to process the sheer grandeur of it. “Remy…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is… this is insane.”

He chuckled softly behind you, stepping closer so that his frame loomed just over your shoulder. “Y’ like it?”

You turned to face him, still trying to wrap your head around the opulence of it all. “Like it? This is beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined. But…” You hesitated, the question pressing at the back of your mind. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Remy’s smirk softened, his eyes gleaming with something deeper, something more sincere than you were used to seeing from him. “Because I think this life suits y’, chère. Whether y’ think so or not.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "I… don’t know if I fit into this world, Remy. I mean, look at this place—look at all of this. It’s beautiful, but this isn’t me.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping closer, his voice dropping to something more intimate. “Y’ think y’ don’t belong here, but I’ve known for a while now that y’ do.”

You frowned, your pulse quickening as his words hung in the air between you. “What do you mean?”

Remy’s gaze softened, and for once, that mischievous glint in his eyes faded into something more serious, more vulnerable. “Ever since that night with Norman Osborn,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with an unspoken weight. “I saw how y’ handled yourself. The way y’ didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, even when that snake was tryin’ t’ rattle y’. Most people would’ve folded under that kind o’ pressure, but not you. And that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

“That y’ fit into this life,” he said simply, his eyes locking onto yours. “That y’ belong here with me. Y’ ain’t just some pretty face or someone who’s along for the ride. Y’ got strength, chère. Y’r sharp, y’r quick on y’r feet… and y’ make all this—” he gestured vaguely around the penthouse, “—seem like somethin’ more than just the usual bullshit.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into you like a stone. You had always seen yourself as an outsider in this world, someone who didn’t quite belong, someone who was just trying to keep up. But Remy—he saw something different. And hearing him say it, hearing him tell you that you fit in a way you’d never believed you could, it stirred something inside you—something warm and terrifying all at once.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” you said quietly, your voice wavering as you met his gaze.

“Y’ don’t have to believe it,” Remy replied, his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. “But I do. And I wouldn’t be offerin’ y’ this—” he motioned to the wardrobe, the penthouse, the life he was slowly opening the door to, “—if I didn’t think y’ deserved every bit of it.”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with emotion. You wanted to protest, to tell him that this was too much, that you couldn’t accept it. But as you stood there, surrounded by the quiet elegance of the wardrobe, with Remy looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, you found yourself at a loss for words. As you stood in awe of the walk-in wardrobe, surrounded by rows of perfectly arranged clothes and shelves lined with designer shoes, you felt Remy move closer, his presence filling the space beside you. The air between you seemed to thicken instantly, the unspoken tension that had been simmering all afternoon suddenly more palpable. You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the lavishness of the wardrobe, but all you could feel was the heat radiating from him, the way his proximity made your skin tingle.

Remy, ever the charmer, let out a low hum of approval as he gestured toward the glass-top dresser filled with glittering jewelry. “Y’ see this?” he said, his voice low and smooth, thick with that Cajun drawl that always seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace. “That’s Cartier right there. And those…” He pointed to a delicate pair of diamond earrings that glinted under the soft light. “Those are Van Cleef & Arpels. Real elegant, huh?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly dry as you glanced down at the sparkling pieces of jewelry, each more beautiful than the last. But it wasn’t the diamonds or the designer labels that had your heart racing—it was the way Remy’s voice dipped lower, the subtle brush of his arm against yours, the way his presence seemed to fill every inch of the room.

He leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he pointed to a different section of the dresser. “An’ over there, that’s Bulgari. Real timeless pieces. Y’ know, the kind that makes a statement without tryin’ too hard.”

You could feel his gaze on you, hovering just at the edge of your vision, and it took everything in you not to turn and meet his eyes. But you could sense him watching, the weight of his attention pressing down on you in a way that made your pulse quicken. The air felt heavier now, charged with an unspoken tension that had been building between you for weeks. Months, maybe.

“Remy…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, but even you didn’t know what you were going to say. Were you going to ask him to stop? To step back? Or were you going to close the distance yourself?

He didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand brushed lightly against yours as he gestured toward another piece of jewelry, his touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. “This one’s from Tiffany’s,” he continued, his voice a low rumble that seemed to reverberate through the room. “Classic. Simple. But it’s got a way of catchin’ the light, y’ know?”

You barely heard him. All you could focus on was the heat of his skin against yours, the way his fingers seemed to graze yours as if testing the boundaries, seeing how far he could go before you’d react. The closeness between you was suffocating, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was intoxicating, the kind of tension that made your breath hitch, your heart pound in your chest, every inch of your body hyper-aware of his nearness.

Finally, you couldn’t help it—you turned your head just slightly, your eyes catching his. And there it was: that spark, that quiet fire that had been burning between you for so long but had never been fully acknowledged. His gaze was intense, dark and heated, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. You felt like you were standing on the edge of something, teetering between the pull of gravity and the desire to let yourself fall.

Remy’s eyes flickered to your lips for the briefest of moments, so quick you almost missed it, but it was enough to send a wave of heat coursing through you. The tension in the air was thick now, almost unbearably so, and you could feel the unspoken question hanging between you—would either of you cross that line?

His smirk softened, but the intensity in his eyes never wavered. “Y’ alright, chère?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, but there was something teasing in his tone, like he knew exactly what effect he was having on you.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Yeah… I’m fine,” you managed, though your voice sounded a little too breathless, a little too shaky.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, and you felt the warmth of his breath brush against your cheek. “Y’ sure? Y’ look like y’ got somethin’ on y’r mind.”

You could barely think straight, let alone find the words to answer him. The air between you felt like it was vibrating with tension, every small movement, every breath drawing you closer to the edge. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your veins, your skin buzzing with the awareness of how close he was, how easy it would be to close the distance between you entirely.

Remy’s hand had brushed against yours again, just enough to send a jolt of electricity through your skin, and suddenly, the space between you seemed almost nonexistent. Your breath hitched, and without even realizing it, you had taken that small step closer, closing the gap between you.

For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, time slowing as your eyes locked onto his. Remy’s gaze flickered to your lips for the briefest of moments before darting back up to meet your eyes, and the tension that had been simmering for so long suddenly threatened to boil over. You could feel it—the pull, the magnetic force drawing you closer, your heart hammering in your chest as the possibility of something more hung in the air between you.

But just as the moment reached its tipping point, just as you thought you might cross that invisible line, Remy stepped back.

The shift was subtle—just a small movement, but enough to break the spell that had been building between you. He cleared his throat softly, his eyes flickering away from yours for the first time since you’d stepped into the wardrobe.

The air around you seemed to cool instantly, the tension dissipating, though the weight of what had almost happened still lingered in the space between you. Your heart was still racing, and it took you a second to process what had just occurred—or rather, what hadn’t.

Remy, ever the master of controlled chaos, was already sliding back into his usual easy demeanor, though there was a tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. His eyes softened as they met yours again, but the intensity had dulled, replaced by something more guarded. He gave a small, almost rueful smile, as though acknowledging what had nearly happened, but choosing to keep it unspoken.

“Y’ better be careful, chère,” he said, his voice a little rougher than usual, though still laced with that familiar teasing edge. “Y’ keep standin’ that close, an’ I might forget where the line is.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, even as you tried to steady yourself, the tension still coiling low in your stomach. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, forcing a smile in return. “I think we both almost forgot.”

Remy’s grin widened, though there was a flicker of something more serious beneath it. “Almost,” he agreed, his voice dropping slightly.

For a beat, neither of you moved, the thick silence between you settling into something more comfortable, more familiar—but the undercurrent of what had just passed between you was still there, still buzzing quietly beneath the surface.

He took another step back, putting a little more distance between you, his gaze shifting to the sparkling jewelry laid out in the glass dresser in front of you. “But we gotta keep our heads, yeah? Don’t wanna give the office gossip too much to chew on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Oh, please. I’m sure they’re already having a field day.”

Remy chuckled, the sound softer now, his eyes flickering back to you with that familiar playfulness. “Probably. But that don’t mean we gotta give ‘em more fuel.”

You nodded, though your heart was still racing, the moment between you lingering in the back of your mind. “Right. Keep it professional,” you said, though the words felt almost foreign on your tongue after what had just happened.

Remy smirked, his eyes glinting with humor, though there was still that unspoken weight between you. “Professional? ‘Course. But that don’t mean we can’t have a little fun along the way.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fun, huh? Is that what you call it?”

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Well, I ain’t the type t’ make things boring.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. Somehow, even after that near-kiss, even after the tension that had hung so thick between you moments ago, Remy had a way of pulling you back into the easy banter that had always defined your relationship. But beneath the surface, you knew something had shifted. Something had changed. And it was only a matter of time before you both had to face it.

For now, though, Remy seemed content to leave that line drawn between you, to keep the boundary intact, even if it was a little frayed around the edges. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated, but either way, you were grateful for the breathing room.

He stepped back toward the door, motioning for you to follow. “Come on,” he said, his voice lighter now, though his eyes still held that quiet intensity. “Y’ got a whole place t’ explore. This closet’s just the beginnin’.”

You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow as you moved to follow him. “Oh, just the beginning, huh? How much more of this place is going to blow my mind?”

Remy grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guess y’r just gonna have t’ find out.”

As you walked out of the wardrobe and back into the sprawling penthouse, the tension between you settled into something quieter, something more manageable. But you knew it was still there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the next moment when the line between you might blur again.

And when it did, you weren’t sure if either of you would be able to step back.

[30fury]

aphrodite, common to the people, naked in the stream. she sinks into the hungry water and lets it eat at her time-loved skin, dimpled at her breasts, thighs, her hips, the dip of her stomach. fish teem around her excitedly, and she strokes their scales as she lets the water wash away the afternoon heat. as she rises, you can see she carries a phallus, planted in a bed of soft hairs. when you move too suddenly -- a crack of wood in the undergrowth beneath you -- her warm eyes turn upon you; glittering blue, the sunlight hitting the waves. she is beauty unconquered.

and the gods come together.

athena, truth-bearer, prim in the courtroom. she looms over the proceedings like a hawk, aegis laid across her covered lap. she is always here, always attentive, always protective. she covers everything but her forearms, her face, her neck; the corinthian helmet sits at her ancient temple like a veil, the garters of her dress a warning. she is rubbing her thumb against a worn spot in the shaft of her spear contemplatively, an ear turned to the defense. when you peer up at her, her eyes are as clear as summer sky.

and the gods come together.

hermes, transient, naked in the gymnasium. he is roughhousing with the other boys, a grin on his face as he hooks his leg beneath the other's knee and flips him soundly onto his back. he is weightless -- there is nothing to hang, nothing to tie down. hair curls thick between his legs and under his arms. they are sharing breath, and the sun smiles down on them with open glee. when you squeeze between the gathered crowd of boys and men, skin cool in the shadows of the halls, you see him: eyes flashing honey-gold, pinprick pupils lost in the color. sweat is pooling at his hairline, and he is gorgeous.

and the gods come together.

artemis, far-shooter, lacing up her hunter's boots. the skirts of her chiton are short, but she makes up for it with intricate ties in her girdle and the strings of her shoes. her plaits are tied down and pinned to her head, a plain cotton veil slipping over her shoulder like a sheaf of hair. less clothes mean more speed -- and she needs every extra second she can get. deers are quicker at night, when they weave and dart between heavy groves where you can't see. there are others milling about, arming themselves similarly -- she never hunts alone. you are retrieving her gear, and when you hand them to her, she smiles. her eyes are a delicious pale gold, pupils blown out in the dark.

and the gods come together.

dionysus, laughter bubbling in his chest, sits half-covered at the symposium. his breasts splay out, hanging off him as he reclines further into the lap of a bacchant. his fingers are long around the neck of his kylix, and the eyes underneath the bowl create a gruesome mask of his own face. he smiles, and the roiling red stains his words. fire flickers in the scones, and the world seems to blur into a sticky haze -- but there is coolness at your wrist, and he is prying your fingers open to feel at the palms. he gazes at you, and it is pitch. everlasting, all-consuming, pitch. his hair falls in sheets around his body, and you are safe.

and the gods come together, and the gods come together.

[vertigoed]

faded (prequel) || rich boy!Gojo Satoru

Content : AU richboy! Gojo satoru x fem!reader, unrequited love, drug usage

Baby's only 23. Dancing under lights since she was 17. Her brain's flooded with ketamine High from every party, low from self esteem 

 TW: heavy drug use

MASTERLIST

PART 2 OUT

Inspired by the song 23 by Chase atlantic :) 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

2009: Senior year of high school. Age 17

You close your eyes at the familiar, soothing sound of the water bubbling as you inhaled the crystal studded bong, letting the smoke hit the back of your throat before exhaling. You felt a head rush from the mixture of tobacco and weed, sinking back into the sofa, as you enjoyed the heightened feeling of relaxation that you craved so badly all day. 

“You’re such a fiend,” Satoru smirked at you, looking up at you from his black rimmed glasses with his blood shot stoned, blue eyes. He was lying on the rug while smoking a cigarette, not caring if the ashes were falling to the ground and staining the white rug. 

“You’d be the same after what I went through today,” you snap at him, rolling your eyes. You were sporting a painful bruise on your hip after falling off your horse during equestrian class that morning, ruining your favourite Burberry outfit in the process. Noticing the ash marks on your persian rug, you kick his head with your foot, “Dude, use a fucking ash tray like a decent human being.”

“I can ask the maid to give it a wash, what’s the issue,” he got up as he rubbed his head, giving you a small glare but discarded his almost finished cigarette onto the vintage, ceramic ash tray you bought a couple months ago for far too much. 

You and Gojo Satoru were the definition of spoilt, privileged rich kids who had no perception of responsibility or accountability. 

Of course, on surface level, your life was perfect and you were fully aware of that. By the time you hit puberty, you already had a wardrobe full of designer bags that most people would kill for, and visited every Disney park across the globe, twice. You didn’t have to worry about mundane life problems like exams when you had the best tutors to show you the answers to the test questions. Things like worrying about your future or which college you’ll be going to was a foreign concept to you. Something you couldn’t imagine no matter how hard you tried. 

 The only anxiety you experienced was having to be put on a wait list for an Hermes bag. 

Being born into generational wealth had already paved your future and all you had to do was walk on that pretty flower road. 

But after a while, things got old and having everything and anything you like, lead you feeling trapped in a constant cycle of mind numbing boredom and wanting to chase a high that simply didn’t exist.   

Satoru’s phone started to ring, interrupting the music that was playing on the speaker. You watch him look at his phone with a disgruntled expression before he hung up on the caller, lying back on the floor with a heavy sigh. 

“Who was it?” you ask, grabbing the crumpled cigarette packet from the coffee table. 

“Utahime,” he nonchalantly replies. His girlfriend of the month. 

The room fell silent after that except for the booming music of Kanye West Runaway playing on the speaker, the frequency of the beat practically vibrated through the walls. You both enjoy listening to music loud enough that no thought could cross your mind. 

You found yourself zoning out as you smoked a Marlboro gold, your favourite brand, unable to fight the drowsiness after the countless number of blunts you smoked in one sitting. It was almost time for your afternoon nap anyway, so you closed your eyes. 

A couple minutes later, you realised the music stop playing again and looked over to Gojo who now had his phone to his ear, listening intensely. He noticed you looking and mouthed Utahime’s name which you roll your eyes in response. 

“Okay babe, I’ll ask Y/N if you can come over,” he said, he quickly muted his phone and raised his eyebrow at you, asking for permission. 

“Let me think,” you drawled, pretending to contemplate by stroking your chin before giving him a dead pan expression and a blunt, “Nope.” 

Satoru had this weird enticement for girls who were middle class or lower. You always knew it was an ego thing. He loved that he can toss a few bands on a Chanel bag and that would practically make girls like Utahime treat him like their God.  

At first you found it amusing how easy it was to win these people’s love and respect. A bag that’s worth a few pennies to you, was worth everything to them. You couldn’t understand why they can’t just stick to wearing tote bags or H&M purses that was within their price range. 

But the gag got old pretty quick, as he eventually turned into a serial man whore, having a new chick every month or so- and you having to be that girl best friend all his girlfriends hated. 

You were sick of them being jealous of your friendship, always wanting to be there if you guys were hanging out and the constant clinginess from them. Lucky for you though, Satoru never hesitated to replace them with some other chick. 

“Well, she has something important to tell me so I’m going to have to leave,” he shrugged before unmuting his phone to resume his conversation. 

You couldn’t help but be a little taken back at his response. Usually, he’d tell the girl that he can’t see them that day because he was already busy. This was the first time he had left you to hang out with somebody else. 

You scoffed in disbelief and got up from the couch, stomping over to the speaker so you could plug your phone in. You made sure to have it on max volume, ignoring Satoru’s furious glare. 

Satoru got up to leave, still on the phone, “Sorry babe, I’m coming now.” Before he left, he flipped you off, which you gladly returned. 

As soon as he left, you pull out your laptop and type in Utahime’s full name on facebook. You scroll through her profile, sneering at her cringe selfies in the mirror with the Gucci bag that Gojo had gifted.  You laugh at her post of her new car, it was a Honda civic, yet she seemed so proud of it with the caption being: 

Took me 6 months to buy this baby :) #sohappy #hondacivic 

You were infuriated that Satoru had just left your house to go see someone who’s happiness came from a shit box of a car. You tell yourself it’s not jealousy, that you were just upset for your best friend who was being used by a girl for his money. 

“What the fuck is so special about her,” you mutter before clicking on the request friend button at the top, “I’ll show her what’s up.” 

____________

hehe like  for part 2.  if u reblog imma send u a fat virtual kiss ( ͡ᵔ ᴗ ͡ᵔ)

PART 2

[firinnie]

MYTH-TOBER 2024 11. Thanatos So there will be a bit of mythology and a bit of my life story here. Thanatos as the deity of peaceful death is very interesting, he comes, cuts a lock of your hair and then Hermes could do the rest. He has a twin brother Hypnos and oh boy, the old paintings of them are so cute. Check out "Hypnos and Thanatos: Sleep and His Half-Brother Death" by John William Waterhouse, excellent one. Btw, he got butterfly's antennae because that's his sacred animal, which is also a symbol of the soul. BUT now some lore from my life. Mythology somehow stuck with me for a long time, once in primary school when we talked about Greek gods each of us got our own god for which we were supposed to dress up and talk about. I got Thanatos and I'll tell you that 10 years ago I couldn't find almost anything on the Polish internet. A very short Wikipedia and a few pictures, because nobody spoke English at my house at the time, so my mother took matters into her own hands. She was a seamstress and sewed me a black and white outfit (the one Thanatos is wearing on my art), bought angel-costume wings and helped me paint them black, attaching even more feathers to make them bigger. And believe me, how much she heard from my grandmother that it was "a profanation of religion" and so on. On day we were supposed to present it, I was late for my first lesson because I was doing the most "deadly" make-up that the cheap cosmetics we found at the last minute would allow me to do. And I had a phenomenal performance, I even walked around the room with my paper knife painted gold in one hand and a paper torch in the other. I had "diabełki" (little devils) in it, which were gunpowder wrapped in parchment, wrapped in small balls. You could buy these at kiosks and when you hit the ground with them there was a mini BOOM, I used them at the end of my presentation for t h e w o w effect. And you know what? I got a 4- (which is like B in a Polish school), and you know why? Because "it's very unsightly to watch a girl pretending to be a male character". BUT I DID NOT CHOOSE A MALE CHARACTER, that teacher gave us gods, I had no choice in with one! 12-year-old me was sad and 22-year-old me is disgusted by that woman. But you know what? I went to an art school after that and there was an "initiation as a student lit party" (which always had an interesting theme at that school), we of course got a topic about Greek mythology. I put on my Thanatos outfit, went to the bathroom to do my make-up and met a girl from my class who I hadn't talked to, and who commented on something about my costume. We started talking and talking and talking... 3 years ago we finished this school and she is still my close friend so I can say that the effort of making this costume really paid off. Thanks to my mom lol. I really like Thanatos for that. Inctober by @/arkhaos.art (on ig)

[yronnia]

Angeology - Michael trough the eyes of artists

The second most common motif is Michael on Judgement Day, holding scales in one hand and a scroll - the book of life in the other, where souls of the damned depart at the right hand of God to the kingdom of heaven, the damned descend at his left hand to hell, where the second death awaits them after suffering doomsday. The Judgement Day was also depicted as sunset, night is born at the end of the path of the sun. Some cultures and religions believed that death reigned in the west because the sun went there to die. Michael, more precisely, is the angel of resurrection, he gives every soul the opportunity to redeem themselves from evil before death, turn their souls into gold in alchemical allegory. (some cultures uses it as an idiom - golden hands or heart of gold)

In the role of the guide of the souls, Michael follows the pre-Christian cult of the sun, the Greek Hermes, the Celtic god of sun - Lug, the Roman Mercury etc..

According to Bonaventure , Michael was a seraph and an angel who guards the gate of paradise with a flaming sword. Which council does Michael belong to? Not even theologians are sure. Author categorizes Michael to eighth angel choir.

(OP note: I attended one of Authors lectures - When I write "the reference/book/bible author chose" - it wasn't his uninformed choice. Author was and is deliberately discussing the discrepancies with theological authorities, but unfortunately they couldn't give him a direct answer either - nor commit to one notion! In order to not postpone his study, Author decided to go along one particular notion/bible/reference and followed it throughout the books. Do not be concerned about theological vocabulary, it all started by statistics, but as statistic is full of numbers only and no pictures, it is very boring. Also, as I am reading trough this tomb as we go along, I cant say now if Author devoted full chapter to the statistic alone. This is the third book, there is the first one, which, probably, explains the math thing, but oh yeah, I have to start somewhere so why not at contemporary archangel. Return to Authors words-)

Michael displaces the God of Sun so perfectly, that the caves of the sun gods have turned into places of pilgrimage.

The author also talks about many civilizations that associated the sun with the figure of the judge, as the embodiment of law and justice. Michael was often depicted as a fighter against the Evil.

(Not a wonder, that when you google Michael and Dragon, you'll get something over 680.000 hits. Some of them are actually titled Michael and the Serpent. That Michael was deemed a protector, it is confirmed in the bible, where most of the artists drew inspiration from. It is important to mention that in these times only the gentry and the church had money to patron the art, or at least was not ashamed to show the plenty of it.)

For Good Omens fanbase: Author once connects Michael with Metatron and uses Persian painting as an example. Not under my watch.

[thishazeleyeddemon]

Eye color hcs

Athena: colorless gray, like the color got washed out of them, or normal but flashing metallic in the right light

Apollo: pale golden ring around the iris, very thin and hard to see

Poseidon (we know this one): vivid green, like seawater

Zeus: Thalia's bright blue, but also sometimes a grey that shifts with the weather (pale grey when it's sunny, dark grey when it's storming)

Aphrodite: Piper's strange kaleidoscope eyes, but also sometimes a very deep red that's hard to distinguish from brown or a pale pink light in the middle of the pupil

Demeter: pale green or deep, deep warm brown, almost black

Hermes: metal shine when the light hits them right- often gold like drachmas

[rarepears]

Dec 2023 Masterpost

tywin lannister x sung jinwoo

Shen Jiu turns into Shen Yuan’s pet cat when he falls asleep AU

shen yuan’s wifebeam hits the entire imperial city and there are Consequences AU

batman and his hermes collection AU

imagine if SVSSS was set in Game of Thrones Yi TI crossover AU

korean american adoptee sung jinwoo AU

shen yuan enters shen qingqiu's body in a different way AU ft. giving birth

In Jinlan City Luo Binghe makes Shen Yuan half paralyzed and blind so that the two can play househusbands AU

 star wars meets narnia AU

bnha endeavor X Willy Wonka AU

shang qinghua and shen yuan transmigrate as tianlang jun and Si Xiyan AU

Percy Weasley raises tom riddle AU

Sung Jinwoo and Alfred co-parenting bruce wayne AU

Yue Qingyuan turns into capybara because of a curse AU

endeavor and lex luthor thoughts AU

a tom riddle that was raised by shen yuan and luo binghe AU

endeavor's manwhore teenage phase AU

Shen Yuan is born as Tywin Lannister's eldest son AU

sung jinwoo treats couponing as an extreme sport that he places gold in every time AU

bruce wayne adopts all of the baratheon bastard children because why not AU

endeavor and family's forced vacation into star wars AU

AU where SJ is Ning Yingying's biological father

shen yuan enters shen qingqiu's body in a different way AU ft. giving birth

[appleblocks]

Next Gen AU sketches/thumbmnails bellow [CW BLOOD AND VIOLENCE]

If you didn't see my previous posts about this, the Next Gen AU I'm starting here is the hermits and lifers's kids (Hermes, Tiny Tom, Grumbot, Jrumbot, and most recently Jeremy Jr. experiencing a life series of their own, with 3rd life rules.

In this AU the Bot Brothers (Grumbot aka Grum and Jrumbot aka J/Jay) recruit Jeremy Jr. and create lots of redstone traps, many of which hit Hermes and damage him quite a lot, sending him into a red life very quickly (and he only wears and uses gold armor and tools, because Stratos, where he's from, was built upon a gold empire, kinda.). Hermes goes mad and goes after the Bot Brothers, successfully turning Grum into a red life too, but is once again easily killed in battle.

Something that isn't depicted here yet is that Tom arrives right as Hermes goes down. Tom and Hermes are half-brothers technically and share a strong bond as per my au, and Tom is very protective of Hermes. Seeing Hermes's things on the floor sends him over the edge, he couldn't save his brother, and so he goes on a rampage towards the others.

:3 There's more to it in my mind but I hope you like it! I didn't have the energy to draw it digitally today

Possible questions:

How does Grum have weapons if he just respawned? Answer: they have emergency weapons on item frames for these exact moments, he grabbed them all to come defend Jay.

Why do Grumbot and Jrumbot have 1 antenna? Answer: I liked it :3