#M!goblin x f!human

[extra-wolf]

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Male Goblin/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,127 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

Ayo accidentally takes a potion meant for somebody else. It has unintended consequences, but it's not entirely terrible.

The summer morning greeted you with a gentle breeze across your face through the open window, the sun casting a warm, golden glow over the shelves and jars of your apothecary. Today held the silent promise of goodness, the kind that made your heart light as you prepared to open shop.

With care, you began to sort through the commissioned potions for your clients; they ranged from simple herbal remedies to much more complex spells. The rhythm of sorting through the various jars was soothing, it was always your favourite part of the day.

Among them lay a potion due the next day, its contents shimmering with a rosy pink that caught the light just so. It was meant to grant poise and charm, just a little boost for a man who needed some confidence on a first date.

As the morning bustled on, the door creaked open to admit a new customer. A small goblin stepped over the threshold, a little hesitantly, as if unsure of the welcome he would receive.

You took in his appearance: mossy green skin dappled with little freckles, golden piercings glinting in his ears. He had his lip and eyebrow pierced too, decorated with little amethyst gems.

Despite his obvious shyness as he shuffled in, there was something about him that piqued your interest—an allure that you hadn't felt for a goblin before.

"I need some herbal remedies for a cough.” His voice was soft, almost tentative. "For my sister," he added quickly, as if eager to explain his presence.

As you nodded and turned to fetch the requested herbs; you could sense his eyes following you, a silent observer still. There was a gentleness to his demeanour that went against the ruggedness of his leather armour, which spoke of a life of survival… and solitude.

"You don't look like you come into town often," you ventured, hoping to coax him into conversation as you carefully selected the best herbs for a cough.

His chuckle was a quiet, nervous thing, but his grey eyes softened as you turned around to offer a smile. "Not much, no. The forest is more my home," he admitted, his gaze drifting towards the various bottles and ingredients lining your shop.

"Couldn't you find these herbs in the forest?" you inquired. "Most of what's here comes from the forest anyway."

He shifted his weight, a small smile creeping onto his face. "I'd rather trust someone who knows what they're doing," he confessed with a self-deprecating shrug. "I might end up picking the wrong thing. Poisoning myself wouldn't be too smart."

His admission brought a soft laugh from you as you placed a bottle of cough syrup alongside the bundled herbs on the counter. "Well, you're safe with these," you reassured him, meeting his gaze with a friendly smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

You noticed then, a subtle tenseness in his posture, the way his fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm on his armoured thigh. It seemed like eagerness, perhaps an anxiety to return to the familiarity of the forest. "No, that's all, thank you," he said, his voice carrying a hint of relief.

As he handed over the payment, his hand lingered for just a fraction longer than necessary, leaving behind a tip that was more generous than usual. With a quick, nervous nod, he gathered his purchase and hurried out, the door closing behind him with a gentle jingle.

There was something intriguing about him, a pull that was unfamiliar as he vanished past the window. Your heart sank a little as you realized that in the rush of the transaction, you'd never asked his name.

Turning back to the potions on the counter, you hoped for another chance to see the goblin again, to learn more about him. That's when you noticed the gap where the emboldening potion had been. Your eyes widened in realization. Could he have taken it by mistake? Or… he had left so suddenly. Had he stolen it?

Without a second thought, you dashed to the door, flinging it open with the hope of catching him. You scanned the street for any sign of the goblin's mossy green skin or the glint of his piercings. He was nowhere to be seen. For someone of such small stature, he was surprisingly quick, or perhaps the forest had taught him how to disappear so quickly.

Frustration bubbled inside you. That potion was potent — strong enough for the troll it was intended for, not a goblin half his size. You bit your lip, mind racing… and concluded that all you could do was make another for your customer. You hoped the strange goblin would be all right.

You resigned yourself to getting back to work, letting the steady flow of tasks and customers occupy your mind, pushing aside the nagging worry about the misplaced potion. Potions were brewed, advice was given, and remedies were handed out with the same care and attention you always provided.

As the day wound down and the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, you began the familiar routine of closing up. Just as you were about to turn the sign to closed, the door creaked open, the bell chiming one final time.

"We're closed, I'm afraid," you called out, not looking up as you continued to tidy the counter.

"Oh, I’ll just be a second," came a familiar voice, but there was a lilt to it now, a smoothness that hadn't been there before. 

You paused and turned, your gaze landing on the goblin who'd entered your apothecary just hours earlier.

Gone was the shy man you’d seen this morning. In place of his hunter's leathers, he wore a simple black tunic that did nothing to hide the confidence in his stance. His smile was easy, his greyish-black eyes held a glint of mischief, and he moved with a fluid grace that seemed enhanced, almost exaggerated.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself earlier," he continued with a smile. “I’m Ayo. You are..?” His voice was a little too loud in the quiet shop, his smile a little too wide.

It clicked then—the emboldening potion. He must have taken it.

"Ayo," you repeated, allowing his name to settle in your mind. "You took the potion, didn't you? The one I had on the counter?"

His grin widened, not an ounce of remorse in his expression. "Did I? Well, that explains a lot. I thought it was a freebie. I quite like the effect."

You couldn't help but muffle a laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. “Not much to do except wait it out, I’m afraid,” you said, pursing your lips to keep from smiling. “It shouldn’t last more than six or so hours… though it was made strong enough for a troll.”

Ayo's confident facade faltered just a bit, the suggestion that this new version of himself was only temporary dimming the brightness of his smile. "Wait it out — but I'm starting to enjoy this new me.”

"Why don't you wait it out here?" you suggested, brows furrowed. "Just so I can keep an eye on any unintended side effects."

Ayo arched a playful eyebrow, considering the offer. "I don't know," he teased.. "I wouldn't want to impose—unless, of course, it means spending time with someone as enchanting as yourself."

There it was, the charm dialed up to its fullest, making it hard not to be swept away by the easy compliments. Yet, you caught yourself, a gentle reminder in the back of your mind that Ayo wasn't entirely himself. His bravado was just a side effect, not a true reflection of his feelings.

Finally, with a slight push from your rational side, Ayo nodded, conceding. "Alright, perhaps staying here isn't such a bad idea. I wouldn't mind getting to know you better, under the circumstances."

You couldn't help but smile, even as you reined in the flutter in your chest. "I'll make some tea, then," you said, moving towards the small side room that served as a makeshift lounge for quiet moments like these.

Once you had brewed a calming chamomile tea, you handed Ayo a steaming mug and directed him to the sofa, plush and inviting in the cosy room. He settled in, the potion's effects making him appear more at ease, more at home than he probably should have felt.

You curled up in the armchair opposite him, tucking your legs beneath you. The room was comfortable, the air filled with the soothing scent of the tea, creating a peaceful bubble away from the world outside.

"So, tell me," he said, gesturing to the room as a whole. He had chosen to sit next to a collection of potted plants, so large that their leaves spilled halfway onto the arm of the sofa. “What's it like being an apothecary? Must be a fascinating job, mixing potions and all that."

You grinned. "It is," you replied. "There's a certain magic in helping others, even if it's just with a simple remedy for the common cold."

Ayo listened, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that left your skin hot. "I bet," he said with a grin. He had pointed teeth, you noticed, with delicate carvings.

The intensity of his stare made you shiver. To distract yourself, you downed your tea and stood to press a cool hand to Ayo’s forehead. “No fever,” you concluded. “That’s good. Do you feel unwell at all? Too warm or too cold?”

Ayo shrugged. “No. Actually, I feel better than I have in a long time.”

You hummed in agreement, leaning over to grab a piece of aloe vera from one of the pots beside Ayo. Except in your closeness, Ayo’s warm breath against your skin felt amplified. He leaned up, dark eyes glinting, close enough to kiss.

Your heart raced, a part of you tempted to close the distance; but with a gentle firmness, you turned your face away, evading his advance. "Ayo, I can't," you said softly, yet firmly. "I won't take advantage of you."

“It’s hardly taking advantage, love.”

The pet name made your knees weak, and you bit your lip to keep from saying something stupid. Instead, you said, “if you still feel this way after the potion has worn off, then maybe I’ll consider… a date. If you’d like. Only once the potion has worn off.”

The look of disappointment that briefly crossed Ayo's face was unmistakable, yet he recovered quickly, his confidence unshaken. "Fair enough," he conceded with a rakish grin. "When this wears off, I'll take you up on that date."

“Good,” you replied with a grin. Settling back into the armchair, you drew a blanket over your knees, the soft fabric a small comfort against the evening's chill.

Ayo's gaze lingered, but he made no move to breach the distance you'd established. You were quietly grateful that at least the potion hadn’t completely ruined his inhibitions.

"At least the potion hasn't completely obliterated your sense of propriety," you quipped, sinking deeper into the blanket.

Ayo's laughter echoed in the little room. "Yeah, well, you say that… but it’s taking my entire self control to stay over here," he responded with a shrug and a smirk.

Flushing, you scrambled to grab the empty teacups. Mostly just to give yourself something to do other than flounder, you asked, “more tea?” Before he could answer, you were on your feet and scrambling to the little kitchen area next door. 

As the kettle boiled on the stovetop, you poked your head back into the sitting area. Glancing at Ayo, who seemed content on the sofa, an idea took root. 

"Would you mind staying the night?" you asked, despite the little voice in your mind arguing otherwise. "It's late, and I'd like to keep an eye on you, just in case the potion decides to throw us any more curveballs."

Ayo's agreement was immediate, his nod accompanied by a grateful smile. "Sure, I can stay. Tomorrow, we could go on a breakfast date.”

You hummed. “If you’re back to normal by morning.”

Deciding that the flat above the shop would offer a more comfortable place for Ayo to spend the night, you led the way upstairs, gathering blankets and a pillow to make up a makeshift bed on the sofa.

As you finished arranging everything and turned to bid Ayo goodnight, he caught you by surprise by standing on his toes and meeting your lips in a kiss. The initial shock had you stiffening, ready to pull away, but Ayo's whispered confession stopped you.

“I couldn’t resist,” he murmured against your lips. His breath tasted of chamomile tea and something you couldn’t place. Something sweet.

You knew you should have resisted, pushed him away, but you couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you with such big, hopeful eyes, that confident smile still playing on his lips. And oh, those teeth!

Screw it, you thought. It was time that you threw caution to the wind. Without giving yourself time to doubt, you bent down and kissed him again. 

Ayo's lips were soft against yours, the kiss carrying a warmth that seemed to spread through you, chasing away the remnants of the day's fatigue. 

When you finally parted, there was a softness in Ayo's gaze, a look that made your legs weak. With a smile that held more affection than you intended, you whispered, "Goodnight, Ayo."

He blew you a kiss as you retreated from the living room. You waved back, hoping that tomorrow, Ayo wouldn’t regret this.

***

The morning light had just begun to creep through the curtains when you decided to check on Ayo, curious to see how he was faring after a night under the influence of the emboldening potion. Quietly, you made your way to the living space, expecting to find him still asleep on the sofa.

Instead, Ayo was up, in the midst of lacing his boots, a look of concentration on his face. The moment he noticed you, his movements halted, and a flush of embarrassment coloured his green cheeks. It was clear he hadn't intended to be found awake, let alone preparing to leave.

"I, uh, was trying to sneak out," Ayo confessed, his voice laced with a mix of sheepishness and something deeper, more sincere. "Didn't want to wake you."

The admission stung. 

Your expression must have betrayed your feelings, because Ayo quickly added, "Not because I regret anything from last night! It's just... that wasn't me. I mean, it was me, but not me. I'm not usually that bold, and I didn't want you to see me this morning and be... disappointed."

"You don't have to sneak away," you said gently, stepping closer, the hurt beginning to ebb away as understanding took its place. "I'd rather know the real you, anyway. Boldness isn't the only thing that's attractive, you know."

Ayo's gaze lifted to meet yours, a hint of surprise flickering in his dark eyes. You noticed him fidgeting slightly, a stark contrast to the smooth assurance he'd displayed yesterday.

Sensing his unease, you took a seat beside him on the sofa, aiming to bridge the distance not just physically, but emotionally as well. "About that breakfast date," you began, watching his reaction closely. "Is that still on the table?"

The effort Ayo made to temper his enthusiasm was almost endearing; the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, betraying his excitement despite his best attempts to remain composed. "If you're still interested, yeah," he said quickly. Too quickly. It was sweet.

In response, you reached out and took his hand. Leaning forward, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. His skin was rough and warm. 

"I'd like to go," you said. "For what it's worth, I'm interested in getting to know the real Ayo, not just the version the potion showed me."

Ayo's enthusiasm was infectious, his smile making your stomach flip. "I can't wait," he blurted out, then quickly added, "Sorry, I don't mean to seem overeager."

You couldn't help but laugh. Not at him, of course, never at him. "It's okay," you assured him. "I'm excited too"

The idea of a breakfast date now hung in the air, a tempting prospect. Yet, Ayo, ever mindful of his responsibilities, hesitated. "I should probably check in on my sister first, let her know where I've been... and explain my unexpected absence."

With a nod of understanding, you stood up, closing the distance between you with a few short steps. Leaning down, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He was so much shorter than you, but you didn’t mind one bit.

"Meet me back here in an hour, then?" you suggested.

Ayo's smile was all the answer you needed. "I'll be here," he promised.

“Good.”

WIth one final kiss, you let him go. Last night had been… interesting; but you had the feeling that today would be even better.

[haologram]

unforgiven 🏹 b.sk (m)

🏹 synopsis: Seungkwan may have been represented by his considerably heartwarming traits, but he ruined his own fate with his vengeful and prideful behavior. Despite his flawed outlook, he can still see you in every lover — until it's you, again.

🏹 genre: greek god au ; second chance romance au ; angst, fluff, smut ; sort of former enemies/rivals to lovers.

🏹 pairing: athena!boo seungkwan x reincarnated arachne!fem!reader | side pairing: eros!mingyu x psyche!tzuyu (twice) | side characters: zeus!seungcheol ; hades!jeonghan ; hephaestus!wonwoo ; hermes!vernon ; eris!saerom (fromis_9)

🏹 word count: 40.8k (and what about it?)

🏹 rating: 18+. minors please do not interact.

🏹 warnings: human x god dynamics. swearing, alcohol. mentions of infidelity, mentions of envy-fueled death, lowkey murder. seungkwan is a perfectionist, reincarnated reader is good at everything. seungkwan can be very hot and cold, reader is way too flirty and toes the line entirely too much. smut warnings: virgin!seungkwan...surprise! multiple scenes (3 shitty ones!), oral (m. & f. rec), fingering (f. rec), unprotected sex (in this economy?!), so much heavy petting (and casual intimacy), frottage, some begging, a bit of dirty talk, lots of pet names (baby, angel, threadling, brat,etc.), dacryphilia and breeding kink if you squint (and i mean really, really squint), praise kink, biting, nipple play, riding, body worship (including the feet...mostly f.rec), a little bit of humiliation.

🏹 what to listen to: run away - tzuyu ; highway to hell - ac/dc ; back to me - the rose ; cinnamon girl - lana del rey ; she's my religion - pale waves ; i'm your baby tonight - whitney houston ; take me back to eden - sleep token ; faithfully - journey ; ruby - woozi ; cry for love - baekhyun ; spell - seventeen ; sailor song - gigi perez ; tattoos - reneé rapp.

🏹 author's note: thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this, and this is for the greek god collab hosted by maren and aeris (link here!) for betas and support: @cheolism, @seokgyuu, and @diamonddaze01! thank you to everyone who forced me to get a fucking grip and just WRITE this. after two months of agonizing over it, writing and rewriting scenes (mostly the smut) and crying over boo seungkwan, it's finally here. seungkwan, my beloved little goblin...the brainrot has been far too real and i hope you get all the love in the world, and that this does you justice for the lack of seungkwan fics on this godforsaken app. xoxo. (star divider by @/enchanthings here on tumblr. link here.)

ONE.

It seemed you and Jeonghan were good friends by the way you speak to each other.

"Back so soon?" He calls, unsurprised. You huff, dusting your knees of rubble before looking up to him sitting cross-legged on his throne, flipping through a newspaper and tapping his pen on his chin. "Tsk, tsk."

"I'm just saying, Seungcheol shouldn't make me the best if he doesn't want me to show it off." You scoff, grimacing at the streaks of ash on your legs.

Jeonghan snorts, "Pride is a sin." Shrugging, you slump over the table before him, ignoring the pain in your diaphragm from the very obvious arrow sticking out of it. He gives you a quirk of his brow, folding the newspaper and folding his hands over his lap. He gives you a pointed look, making you groan. "Hannie, we've been through this so many times. Can't you just send me back?" "You know I can't." He smiles, and you throw a piece of gravel at him. Cerberus growls at you, and you stick your tongue out at the three-headed beast. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, pushing off his seat and tucking his hands into his pockets. "Say you're sorry." "But we know I'd be lying." You try and weasel your way out of begging the god for mercy, but he just gives you a wider grin in response.

"Oh, but you're so pretty when you beg." "You're a fucking freak." You mutter, and he just shrugs.

"You can beg or you can rot. I shouldn't even be giving you a choice, but I just like you so much, darling." He teases, flicking at your forehead. You frown, shoving his hand away before lowering to your knees.

"Come on! I promise I won't be a douche anymore." You exclaim, and Jeonghan just laughs.

"You said that the first time we had to do this. And tell me, Y/N, were you a douche again?" "Saerom deserved it!" You hiss, pointing a menacing finger at the god.

He smirks, a thoughtful look glazing his eyes. "Maybe I should just keep you here. You'd be a nice little pet, I think." He looks around, before you shudder.

"Hell no, you'd probably make me clean the floor with my tongue." You grimace, but sigh in defeat. You feel your cheeks burn in subtle humiliation as you adjust your knees on the gravelly terrain, touching your forehead to the hot pebbles and extending your arms out flat.

You hear Jeonghan clear his throat. "Recite the oath I wrote for you." Groaning inwardly, you feel his boot toe your rib. You scowl up at him, but the glowing maroon of his eyes tell you to get on with it. While this little odd game of Jeonghan's fruitless flirting was entertaining, his process definitely took a lot out of the two of you.

Often why Wonwoo reminds you that you should be grateful Jeonghan keeps letting you get away with it, fighting with Seungcheol constantly over you.

"I apologize." You start, and Jeonghan hums.

"What are you apologizing for?" "I apologize for allowing my pride to overcome my senses and cloud my judgment, allowing me to perform in ways I wouldn't otherwise. I see that my ego has grown further than I can control, and I ask that you allow me to prove that I can be better by returning me to the Overworld and allowing me to perform differently. If I am sent back due to my behavior, I will honor the wishes of those who sent me, and perform under your watchful eye." You're sure Jeonghan can practically hear your eyes rolling, but he sighs nonetheless. "Alright, you goblin. Get up, you're forgiven." You do so excitedly, wiping away any gravel stuck to your skin. Jeonghan smiles at you, a tilt to his head before he speaks in a serious tone, his fingers carefully wrapping around the fletching of the arrow. "This is the last time, Y/N."

You quirk a brow at him as he yanks the arrow out, rolling your eyes. You couldn't really feel anything when you were down here with him, much less did you care about the blood dripping down your front. "Right, same time next week?" He shakes his head, and you feel your brow furrow. "I talked to Seungcheol. We agreed that your presence in the Overworld, while entertaining, is fruitless. You're great at what you do, and the reason Seungcheol allows it is because he's hoping you'll eventually use it for the greater good. In your first life, you decided to challenge Seungkwan of all people. Seungkwan, Y/N." "Listen, just because he–"

"No, Y/N. This is the last time. If you're sent back, you're staying here for good." Jeonghan says sternly, and you think you see a glint of disappointment in his eyes. "You're too smart to keep doing this, stop letting your ego get in the way. You're a mortal, and you will always be a mortal." He turns away from you, and you hear the heavy gates of the Underworld open. Cerberus presents himself next to you, ready to guide you back out. You watch as Jeonghan carefully takes his seat again, and you purse your lips. Your hand rests on the open wound in your torso, feeling a bit of resentment fester in your lower belly.

"How are you sending me back this time?" "I think your original form would be good, no? I know you like the crazy hair colors but we should stick to the blueprint. Maybe then you'll behave." He says, shaking his newspaper off and opening it to the crossword. "Seungkwan regrets hurting you, you know." "Yeah, right." You scoff, feeling a pang in your chest as you recall your first time landing in the Underworld. Jeonghan had nearly sprung out of his seat, his long black hair pinned back by deep purple Gladiolus flowers. You were covered in spider's thread, wrapped tightly in the web and littered with leaves and twigs.

You'd challenged Seungkwan to a weaving contest. Your father had been highly praised amongst mortals for his talent in textiles, leading you to follow his legacy – your weaving had garnered the attention of anyone within a hundred-mile radius. This lead to your chest swelling with pride at the compliments you received, and the business you were able to bring your father. But, like Icarus, you'd flown a bit too close to the Sun. You started boasting that not even the wisest and craftiest of gods could rival your talent – even going as far as saying that Seungkwan, the god of wisdom and craft, would fail at creating something even worth his weight in silk.

Once word reached him in Olympus, he agreed to face you. He presented himself in Lydia, quickly guided to the home you shared with your father by looking for your tapestries. The owl on his shoulder blinked at you, a soft chirp from its beak as you carefully lugged out a loom to your backyard, unaware of his presence.

Seungkwan had watched you carefully from his spot behind a few bushes, something Jeonghan had later told you as he unwrapped you from the web you were bound by. You soaked up the sun in your long dress, before carefully stretching your fingers and threading the yarn through the loom. You seemed at ease with the loom, comfortably and confidently weaving the yarn through your nimble fingers.

What Jeonghan didn't tell you? Seungkwan – though turned off by your ego –  was enthralled by you, his attraction only heightened by your beauty. He would've never assumed that you would blatantly boast god-like talent without an ounce of respect. It seemed now that he was wrong, as he watched the way your pride practically seeped out of your fingers as they did what you knew best. He couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy tangle in his stomach.

Seungkwan waited three nights to return to your home, taking shelter in the forest around your town. He returned peacefully, with a clear mind as he knocked on your door. He heard soft laughter and a gentle reassurance to your aging father as you gracefully opened the door. Your eyes were hidden behind your plump cheeks, full lips spread into a smile as you greeted him.

"Hello." He didn't respond nor introduced himself, only scanning you quietly. His eyes lingered on your lips, before noting your bandaged fingers folded neatly in front of your apricot-colored skirt.

"Can I help you, sir? Are you here on business?" You'd had no idea who was in your presence. Your warm smile almost made him forget who he was.

"You're Y/N, right?"

"That's me, sir. What can I help you with? Oh, we just got a shipment of beautiful violet yarn. It's dyed–"

"I'm Seungkwan. You said you could out-weave anyone."

Your expression changed at that, your smile turning into a smirk as you looked down at your bandaged fingers.

"A god is threatened by me?" Your voice had been teasing, but it only managed to irritate him.

"On the contrary, I quite enjoy your little act. What am I, if not a just and fair opponent?" With that, your gaze hardened slightly, and you extended your hand. He shook it carefully, watching as you walked to the center of your village, your fingers reaching for the cornucopia carefully held by a stone carving of Dionysus. You brought it to your lips, blowing what seemed to be a memorized tune.

Children flooded out of homes, followed by their parents and even some domesticated animals trailed around. Everyone smiled at your presence in the center of the village as you replaced the cornucopia.

"Everyone, I thank you for coming out. It seems we've got a visitor." You'd gestured towards Seungkwan, earning various gasps and even a scream from a young child in the crowd. Murmuring had quickly started, your bandaged hands calling for their attention as you waved them around.

"Seungkwan, the god of wisdom, craft and strategy…has come to accept my challenge." There hadn't been much speaking after that – the villagers quickly moved to watch as your father and a few other people moved looms out for you and Seungkwan. Your fingers quickly threaded the yarn through yours, watching as Seungkwan took his time unraveling it and threading it through. He noted your impatience through the flare of your nostrils.

The villagers watched in awe as the two of you wove like your lives depended on it – though, your art told different stories. The people had heard tales of Seungkwan's relentless discipline, only confirmed as he weaved those tales into each corner of his tapestry – and it caused a bit of anxiety to fester in their stomachs. His tapestry held symbols of peace, his infamous olive branch weaved into every space he could fit it.

Your tapestry told tales of Seungcheol – the god of the sky and his countless romantic escapades. You shunned him, intricately weaving each and every face of his lovers with yarn and creating a bigger battle to be faced by the god himself. You took the thrill and rush of the callout to continue onto the god of music, weaving Jihoon's lyre into the tapestry with tales of his manipulation of mortals with his song, as well as his scorn. You even went as far as involving who would one day become one of your closest friends – the god of the Underworld, Jeonghan.

You wove mercilessly, spilling truths that were unbeknownst to you. You expressed resentment against Jeonghan with your yarn, spewing hatred of his isolation and cruelty towards the damned. You implemented his manipulation of other gods and mortals, his way with words and the imposement of his feelings upon the damned.

You flew too close to the Sun.

Seungkwan watched as you fell frantic with pride, your fingers working almost overtime as you burned through yarn like there was no tomorrow. He was impressed, but his expression hardened at your disrespect of the gods. What could you, a mortal, ever understand about being a god? What could you, a simple village girl who sold tapestries for a living, understand about pressure and having to guide all those to wander to where they need to be? Who were you to judge a god for having multiple lovers – had you ever had one? Who were you to talk down on a god for being cold and isolated, when you were the very same – boasting about your pride, isolating yourself to perfect a craft that would lead you to your demise? Who were you, to complain about the blessed tune of a god, can you do anything other than weave your loud-mouthed opinions?

The damned. That's who you were, if not who you would become.

"That's enough." He'd stopped you just as you reached the end of your yarn, tearing through the tapestry you'd woven before him. Your mouth fell, watching as the god ripped your work to shreds. You, ever so human…said exactly what passed through your head.

"You gods could never imagine someone to be better than you. You, of all gods, could never accept someone that's more capable than you. Someone faster, someone wiser–"

Seungkwan decided your idea of friendly competition had taken a turn for the worse. He simply held the shreds of your work in his hands, and gave you a stern look. "Pride will get you killed, you know." And, it did. However, you didn't exactly know how, and neither did Jeonghan – just that you were wrapped in the web, with spider-like limbs protruding amongst the rubbish tangled in the spindle and your dark hair framing your tear stained face.

It seemed you couldn't get enough of the thrill, though.

You begged Jeonghan to set you free and send you back – but Jeonghan knew of your insults directed at him through your tapestry. He'd clicked his tongue at you, eyeing your clothing. Your skirt was made of only the finest thread, your fingers bleeding through the taped cloth on them. Your hair was tangled and your skin was dull, and you were truly coming to the realization that that was all you were. A human, a mortal. A plaything, if he so desired.

Nothing in comparison to Jeonghan. Nothing in comparison to Seungcheol, Jihoon and, as much as you hated to admit it, Seungkwan.

He'd made you apologize, and he kept you in the Underworld for three days and three nights. By then, Wonwoo had come to fetch you – called by Jeonghan and Seungcheol. You'd met Wonwoo several times, often trading your finest tapestries for anything he'd give you.

He'd made you and your father a special pair of scissors in exchange for a woven satchel and the cloak you'd made of hemp for him, dyed carefully with safflower petals. He wore them as he sauntered into the Underworld, bearing a gift for Jeonghan – a pomegranate, forged from bronze and riddled with garnets of all shapes and sizes. He offered Jeonghan it as a trade-off for you, and the god accepted – not saying anything about you being free to return to the Overworld. But not without a catch, and not without a punishment.

What was the catch? 

You looked nothing like yourself. You were…different. Different slopes in your nose, different curves of your ears and your legs shorter. Your fingers permanently bruised from your past life of weaving and hubris.

And it happened again, and again, and again – until Jeonghan expected you to crash into the graveled ground like a spider falling from the sky. He'd always give you the same look, the same sigh, and the same flirtatious routine. Though, the more he saw you, the more he grew fond of you. He enjoyed humiliating you, watching you squirm under his gaze – but by your eighth visit, he was tired of the act.

Wonwoo was the only one who knew how much you'd been thrust in and out of the Underworld, offering you his spare room. He and his wife had long separated, so you were simply filling the void of a companion for him.

The punishment for your shenanigans? You lost your father, and didn't get to say goodbye.

Wonwoo took care of him, from a distance, while you were routinely jostled through the experience of living and dying, and physical change. Your father was never allowed any information about you, simply being told that you'd disappeared. No one expected him to live on in peace without his only daughter –  and he fell ill with worry and stress – leaving the god of fire to beg Seungcheol to let you return to him for a final goodbye. Seungcheol refused, and your father died after three nights of hard rainfall. 

Your punishment was not the worst there was. You knew that – but it still aches deep within. You challenged anyone and anything, you didn't really care to find a cure for your pain. You fought against anyone who would allow you to – your latest quest proving that you could entice anyone into a fight far quicker than Saerom, the goddess of discord and strife.

She obviously didn't take too kindly to that, sending you back down to the Underworld with a golden arrow in your chest. Leading you to this very conversation with Jeonghan – potentially your last ever conversation with him where he doesn't banish you to the depths of hell with all those who have wronged him.

You sigh, glancing down at your fingers. The same bloodied cloth from all those years ago reappeared on your hands, your bruised fingertips softly throbbing. Your apricot skirt hung carefully on your hips, the bandage top now carefully wrapped around your torso. You felt the weight of your jewelry return to your ears and neck, the singular ruby ring sitting snugly around your right thumb.

"Are you sure? Won't they remember me?" You ask softly, and for once, Jeonghan can see inner turmoil. He shakes his head. "Everyone has either left or died. And, you're always welcome to move around as well. As far as I know…they need a weaver in Olympus."

You look up to see Jeonghan's maroon eyes glint with mischief, his smile wide as Cerberus grunts next to you. Seeing your lips curl gently, he waves his fingers at you. "I'll see you in a few decades, yeah?"

Nodding, you take a deep breath before turning your back on him, seeing the three-headed beast begin to lead the way out. "I'll see you, Jeonghan."

TWO.

Seungkwan was restless.

He promised his life to this. A life of being just, a life of being fair, a life of being a pure and sound god with nothing but the best of intentions for the mortals he helped guide. A life of losing himself, and his own desires, in order to be there for those who truly needed help, those who were truly in need of guidance and a path to follow.

He was there to answer questions and solve problems. He was there to make decisions for everyone who needed him to.

Who answers his questions? Who solves his problems, who makes decisions for him when he is too overwhelmed to think for himself? Nobody. If he doesn't do it, it simply won't get done.

He'd even attempted to take lovers in, trying to kiss and touch his way out of his own stress only to pull away before things got too heated. He couldn't, in good faith, allow himself to submit to just anyone. The mortals were just excited to be with a god, someone who could easily break them, someone who was deemed an esteemed part of their community – he didn't want them to see him like that, not during an intimate affair. He wasn't just a notch on a bedpost; he too, felt things. He'd see hurt flash through their eyes as he casted them away, shame radiating off his shoulders as they gathered their clothing and left his temple.

He felt like something was missing in all of them. He thought about it tirelessly – he felt attracted to them. He felt lust, he felt desire, but nothing got him to the point where he felt it could be quenched. His yearning for someone deeper, someone real, someone deserving of him ate away at his heart.

He sighed, hearing the echo of his shoes against the marble tile of the temple. He'd had a long day, only to be rang with yet another qualm – a mortal who searched for a job was granted access to his temple, and had been sent by Jeonghan and brought to the sacred home by Vernon, Wonwoo, and Cerberus.

Jeonghan said the mortal was good at almost anything and everything, and was looking for a mentor to take her under as she had no remaining family in all of Olympus. Vernon and Cerberus came into view as Seungkwan reached the open doors of the temple, hearing soft laughter rip through the air as Wonwoo appeared as well, but it wasn't from him.

He sees a bandaged hand resting lightly on Wonwoo's shoulder, a hint of an apricot skirt peeking from behind Vernon's leg.

"I've missed you, Wonwoo."

His ears perk at the tone of voice. It's soft, it's melodic, it's teasing. 

He clears his throat, the three-headed beast flaring its nostrils as Seungkwan takes the steps down to the gathered polycule. Wonwoo smiles at him, something mirrored by Vernon as he quickly spins around. Cerberus carefully lowers to the ground, watching Seungkwan's every move as he clears his throat again.

"Gentlemen?" He questions, and Wonwoo steps aside. He sees the long, dark hair he spun into cobwebs so long ago flowing freely down your back once more. The sliver of your honeyed skin peering through the white bandage top you wore, your taped fingers folded in front of the loose apricot skirt you wore that very day.

"Hello." You speak softly, and Seungkwan doesn't reply as your smile reaches your eyes, the same way it had the first day he'd met you. He looks at Vernon, who shrugs. Wonwoo does the same, before holding up his satchel.

"She won't take up much space, and she can help you with anything you need here. Jeonghan said to talk to Seungcheol if you have any issues." Wonwoo seems to speak as though his word is law, making Seungkwan's jaw tick. They knew how meticulous he was – a place for everything and everything in its place. His home was holy to him, his gardens crafted so not even a single blade of grass was out of place. His windows washed morning and night to let the light in perfectly, his meals like clockwork.

He wasn't sure if there was a place for you here.

Seungkwan can't bring himself to say anything to Wonwoo and Vernon, who seem dead set on leaving you here. You carefully open Wonwoo's satchel, holding out a hemp sash. It was dyed a soft olive green, likely from nettle or dandelion leaves.

"For you. They said you like green." He sucks his teeth, taking it gently from your hands and draping it over his forearm. Wonwoo smiles to himself as you move to stand by Seungkwan's side, who shuffles a bit away from you. Seungkwan was never one to shy away from a mortal, he took his job seriously.

"Well." Vernon gives a smirk, one full of mirth as he pats the scaly beast next to him. "It's best we get going, Wonwoo here has got quite the journey back to Lydia." "So you're just going to leave her here?" Seungkwan asks, a bit of a bite in his tone making Wonwoo grin.

"You'll find a job for her, right? She's good at everything, she can even make you tapestries to help decorate. Your place feels like a prison sometimes." Seungkwan scowls at this, the older man reaching to pinch his cheek gently. "We'll see you around, Boo. We'll come check on you every few weeks, try not to rip each other's heads off." The men turn on their heels and saunter off without so much as a second glance or word to either of you. He can feel you practically vibrating as they walk into the distance. He doesn't know if it's nerves or excitement, but he can't bring himself to ask as he notices your body is covered in quite a thick layer of grime. There is black streaks of dirt all over your shoulder, your arms covered in green, likely from dying the sash.

"You need a bath." He states, missing your scowl as he turns, marching back into the temple quickly. You pull your skirt up to scamper after him, your worn leather sandals clicking against the tile. He silently leads the way to a large bathroom, a clawfoot tub in the center surrounded by beautiful herbal soaps and sprigs of lavender and rosemary.

"Have you any other clothing?" He asks, carefully turning the knobs of the tub and receiving a steady flow of water.

He rings his ringed fingers under it as you shake your head. "No, just…this."

You gesture at your dirty clothing, making him click his tongue as he nods. "I'll find something. Feel free to use anything here, and I'll be back."

He can feel your eyes trail after him as he leaves, before hearing the soft thwip of your clothing being pulled off your body, the jingle of your jewelry being pooled together. He hears the splash of the water as you lower yourself into the tub, and a hum as you test the temperature.

He scurries off to his bedroom, throwing open a few of his drawers to see if he has anything he could offer you. You looked exactly the same as before, but he'd sworn that you'd died. He'd wrapped the cobweb so tight, he was sure you would have kicked the bucket at some point.

But, here you were. As if you didn't remember, as if nothing had happened between the two of you that would make you want to hate him. He had to tell you, right? It was the just thing to do, the honest and right thing to do.

He grimaces to himself, yanking a white chiton out of his drawer. It'd been a gift from a former lover, but it'd be your pajamas for the night. He shuffles around for towels, taking the softer ones out of his closet before trekking back out and hearing you hum a soft melody. One that reminded him of Jihoon, his tunes of love and desperate isolation.

When you come back into view, your entire body is submerged below the soapy water. The bandages on your fingers soaked through as your hand dangles over the edge of the tub, your thumb ring a sparkling contrast. Your legs are crossed, one foot in the air as you examine your toes. It was like it was your first time on Earth.

"Here." He drapes the items over the towel rack a few inches away, and you look up at him. Your face was stained as well, a few odd lines likely from streaming tears paving their way through the dirt on your cheeks. You give him a smile.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" You ask gently, and he sighs, folding his hands in front of him before nodding. You sit up, your bare chest peeking over the soap as he looks away. "I can't…my fingers are really messed up."

You hold your hand up, the bandages threatening to peel off before you close your fingers again. "Can you wash my hair?" This is innocent. Even seeing you in the nude, meant nothing to him. He'd done this for dozens of mortals who had worked under him. He knew he was a tough guy to please, his perfectionism often shown in the pricking of his pupils' fingers and their sore joints. He nods.

"As you wish." He moves around as you adjust, dragging a stool from behind the door to the tub and lingering at a shelf in the wall. "Rosemary? Lavender? Thyme?" He gestures at the jars of infused shampoos, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Whatever you'd like is fine." He plucks the rosemary shampoo off the shelf, opting to roll his sleeves up and sliding his rings off before he sits at the stool. He shoves the rings in his pocket, before running his fingers under the running water once more to ensure its warmth.

"Lean back for me." He murmurs, and you tilt your head back, letting the water stream over your hairline and brows. Your eyes flicker open, watching as his hands gently card through the tangled locks, carefully undoing the knots you'd acquired.

It's not long before his dull nails are working the shampoo into your scalp softly, making your shoulders sag in relief. He assumes you'd been gone for a very long time, probably under the watchful eye of Jeonghan and whatever other damned souls were down there. He scratches behind your ears softly, making you shiver and close your eyes as you lean into the touch.

"How long has it been since you've had a bath?" He asks aloud, and you sigh quietly. 

"In this form, or the others?" 

"The others?" He echoes, and you peel an eye open to look at him.

"I remember you, you know." He tries not to let relief show in his face as he nods with an unimpressed look. "I figured as much, otherwise Jeonghan wouldn't have sent you here. Your second chance is my punishment." "My ninth chance." You murmur as he tilts your head back into the running water, the shampoo running off the sides. You close your eyes again, and Seungkwan says nothing as he rakes his fingers through your hair. He gently rubs the dirt off your cheeks before you move away.

"I don't expect you to like me, nor do I expect you to do me any favors beyond this one. I'm only here because Jeonghan said he wouldn't send me back again, so I have to be on my best behavior." You mutter, sitting up before tugging your bandages off with your teeth and flinging the wet cloth onto the floor by your dirty clothes. Seungkwan grimaces, before watching as you grab a bar of soap and run it under the water.

"I can take care of myself. You can go now." You say, the gentle tone gone as you lather the soap off the bar and gently work it into your face. Your fingers are so bruised he worries they hurt. 

He stands, replacing the stool to its rightful spot and moving towards the door, stopping at the threshold. "Your room is down the corridor to the left. You are the only other person in the temple, so you will have to work with me if you want to stay here. I hope that's understood." He doesn't give you a chance to reply before closing the bathroom door behind him, almost slamming it as he walks away. He walks to his kitchen, dragging a tub of beeswax his previous pupil had collected carefully over the course of her time in his temple. She tended to his gardens, before sending her on her way back to her village with a new skill to use for profit.

He can hear you clamber about, but chooses to focus on his task. He's carefully melting the beeswax in a pot, when he hears you walking around the temple. He doesn't move except to gather his ingredients – peppermint oil, calendula infused oil, olive oil. It would help your fingers, and hopefully you wouldn't be so stuck in your ways this time that you end up hurting yourself trying to be the best.

Something he has yet to learn how to stop doing – but if he admits to imperfection, if he admits to flaws, is he a god? You're pacing around the temple and taking everything in, he can practically hear you murmuring to yourself as you wander into the kitchen, nearly bumping into the dining table.You catch yourself, and he continues to watch you out of the corner of his eye as you pick through the fruit in the bowl. You pull an apple, rubbing the skin against his chiton. 

Your teeth sink into the flesh of the fruit, the crunch satisfying to his ears as you inch closer to him. You're peering over his shoulder, when he finally speaks.

"Do you always just make yourself at home?" He asks, and you're so close to him he can practically feel the shrug of your shoulders. 

"This is home, isn't it? I'm here for a while, maybe the rest of my measly, mortal life. Might as well be a nuisance to you, oh wise one"

You're teasing him, provoking him. He knows he shouldn't buy into it, that's what landed you back here in the first place. "Watch it." He snaps, and you giggle behind him.

"Whatever you say." Your words are drawn out as you prance out of the room, a hum from your throat as you do so. He grumbles to himself as he measures out everything perfectly, heating everything just right so it will help your fingers in the best way possible. He should be freaking out. He should be storming the Underworld right now, demanding Jeonghan take you back to whatever hell you were in before he sent you to him. He should be angry that you're in his presence, your ego so hard to swallow even when now you've only been sent back as a way for Seungkwan to right his wrongs. Or so he thinks.

However, just as you are vain and you are prideful, Seungkwan is selfish and Seungkwan is intolerant of your disrespect. It could very well be a challenge not only sent by Jeonghan but by Seungcheol, to prove his worthiness and show that he can be perfect, too.

Not that any of the gods were perfect by any means.

He sighs, carefully pouring the mixture into a tin, where it'll slightly solidify and you'll be able to use it as a salve for your tired hands. And eventually, your tired feet, because you certainly won't have any downtime.

He carefully walks back towards his bedroom, the hot tin in his hand as he does so. Your head of curls is seen ducking into the room, and he tries to hold back his annoyance as he turns into the room as well.

"What are you doing here?" He announces as you throw open his shutters, the moonlight illuminating the room and your frame as you stare out the window at the rolling hills of his backyard. You don't look back at him as you take another bite of your apple, crossing your arms and leaning on the windowsill before responding around your food.

"I told you, this is my home now, too." He doesn't respond, choosing to slide the hot tin onto his vanity before carefully slipping his shirt over his head, the worn wool tossed into a woven basket by the door. You're not looking at him, but he's hoping you'll get the hint and get out as he disappears into his closet. He removes the rest of his attire, grabbing his robe and tying it around himself before exiting the closet to see you now draped across his reading chair, a lit candle in your hand as you skimmed his open books.

"You have books in your room," he calls, and your eyes twinkle with something he can't place as you blow out the candle. He watches as you replace it gently, and push off his chair. 

"Goodnight, wisest one." You blow him a kiss as you skip out of his room, and he feels like he might be stuck in a constant state of déjà vu. He shakes his head, grabbing a towel before heading towards the bathroom. He sees your clothes still gathered on the floor, struggling not to roll his eyes as he drapes his towel over the rack, carefully picking your clothes up and placing them inside a wooden basket by the door. He turns the water on, and is about to take his robe off when he hears you knock at the door.

"Kwannie? Can I call you Kwannie?" You call, and he tongues his cheek in annoyance as he flings open the door. 

"Yes, Y/N? How can I help you?" You shrug, "I don't like my bed. Can I have yours?" He scoffs out a laugh, before seeing you blink up at him owlishly. "You're not being serious." "But I am, Kwannie! I'm a guest, you wouldn't let your guest sleep on that horrible bed, would you? You're a gracious host." Your hands are holding onto the fabric of his robe, your thumbs circling it before his hands are on your wrists, pulling them off him.

"You take what you're given, threadling." His voice is stern, and he's about to close the door when he sees the pout on your lips, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before sighs. "Fine, take the bed." "Really!?" You squeal, making him shut the door in your face. 

"Don't. Just go to bed."

Seungkwan couldn't stop thinking after that. He quietly slipped into his bedroom after his bath, seeing you sound asleep with his pillow covered in your mess of curls. Your lips were slightly parted, slivers of your teeth illuminated by the moonlight. He took the moment to look closely at your face, a few surface-level scars scattered across your skin. Your eyes were thickly lashed and you had deep bags from lack of rest.

You left the other side of the bed with the covers pulled back, almost inviting him to slide in with you. He eyes it, taking the pillow and tucking it under his arm.

He sat at his desk, watching your even breathing as he slid the pillow against his lower back. He wonders who else you challenged and why they sent you back. He wonders why they gave you so many chances as a mere mortal, and why Seungcheol didn't strike you down the moment your insults gained wind.

"Stop staring at me."

Your voice rang through the room, and Seungkwan just tilted his head.

"No." Your head moves up slightly, and you sigh. "Whatever." You roll onto your side, facing away from the open window. The moonlight now shines on your back and legs, and he notes the way your feet peek out from under the wool blanket. Your toenails are painted in a chipped carmine, and he simply sighs to himself as he crosses his arms over his chest and attempts to get comfortable in the wooden rocking chair.

"You'd be much more comfortable on the bed." You call, and he hums in response. His head rests against the wooden rest, crossing his legs at the ankles as you sit up. "Seungkwan." "Yes, threadling?" His eyes are closed, hands folded in his lap as he responds. He shows no interest in what you could possibly have to say. You're just another chore to him, another mission he must complete to prove himself. He'd be a fool to fall for your charms, or your deceptions. You could flirt all you want, you could challenge him all you want – but he won't give in to you.

Not again.

THREE.

The night had continued without another word from either of you, and you were not in bed when he woke up. He heard the soft running of water and assumed you decided to bathe once more. Seungkwan's back was incredibly sore, but he rose with the sun anyway. He stretched on his patio, before retreating into the kitchen to make breakfast – spotting you tinkering in there already.

You're not wearing what he gave you yesterday – instead, a red, glittering sash from his collection bunched and pinned, tied around your waist like a skirt. It dropped to your mid-thigh, and your chest was covered by a pinned piece of white linen you'd likely found in his closet, something he didn't have use for.

You really knew how to make something out of almost nothing.

You stood in front of his stone oven, holding the wooden peel as a staff and tapping your bare foot against the marble floor. He peers over your shoulder to see a dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt above the flame. Your eyes are illuminated by the fire baking it, and your shoulders jump when you hear him speak behind you.

"What are you doing?" "Making bread. We should really go to the market, you've run out of fish." You respond, gesturing to the table. He looks over his shoulder, seeing an array of fresh fruit and goat cheese neatly placed on plates from his cupboard. There is a pile of juiced oranges and a few carrot peels in his compost bin, and the juice sits in a pitcher next to the jar of honey.

"I left a salve for you on the vanity. Did you put it on?" He asks, not moving from behind you. You nod, holding up your free hand. Your fingers are freshly bandaged, this time in strips of linen. The salve was carefully spread around your fingertips.

"Why are you being so nice to me? You killed me off eight years ago, what makes now any different?" Your question catches him a bit off guard. His head whips up to look at you, and sees you already staring down at home. The flame in your eyes is just as intense, if not more, than the one in the oven. It's like you resent him.

"I'm not a human. I don't have to admit or explain anything to you, we're not the same." He speaks with confidence, and it only makes your brow furrow deeper.

"You don't have to be human to admit your wrongdoings. You killed me off because I made you look bad, Seungkwan." He scoffs, adjusting his pajama shirt. "I sent you to the Underworld because your ego was absolutely suffocating. I don't understand how anyone within a ten-foot radius wasn't crushed by the sheer weight of your hubris."

"Isn't this my land, too? Isn't this where I can express my feelings and my rights, where I can–" His hand comes up, cutting you off just like he did the day you left.

"You are a human. You can train to be the best, you can try to do whatever you desire in this world. You will never be perfect, therefore you cannot compare where you don't compete." He can tell the words hurt you as your eyes glaze over slowly, but you refuse to back down.

"I may not be perfect, but you're also far from it." You grumble, turning away from him to take the bread out of the oven. "Being a god means nothing. You're just like me, all you've got is something fancy to show for it. Something that proves that there are favorites in this world. Without your so-called wisdom, without your so-called perfect presentation, you'd be just like me." He doesn't speak, feeling a bit of fury pool in his stomach.

You carefully pull the bread out of the oven, sliding it onto the cooling rack you left on the counter. You adjust the wooden peel against the wall, before turning to him with one last slip of your tongue.

"You may be a god. You may be good at what you represent, you may be rich in wealth and you may be handsome. Your fellow gods boast your compassion, but you've shown me none. You are nothing but a frail shadow of a man playing pretend, nothing but someone who lacks what life is truly rich with – love." His eyes scan your face.

"What would you even know about love?" He doesn't like the way you smile at him.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? You'd want me to tell you all my secrets, to show you what it's like to be normal and not have to live up to anyone's unrealistic expectations." You're stepping closer, a finger to his chest as you speak. "You'd love to know what the touch of a woman feels like, what it's like to be coddled and kissed and touched until you can't think anymore." You're so close that your lips are brushing the shell of his ear now, and he can feel your lips curl into a smirk as you whisper.

"You want to be forgiven for your sins, but you know if you ever so much as think of telling anyone how much of a screw-up you really are, you'll be seen as less than. Less than your peers, and a disappointment to your elders. You want to be loved, but to be loved is to be known. I don't think you're ready for that."

He feels you brush past him, and his face heats in embarrassment as he hears your feet patter away, and the door of your bedroom shut tightly.

He ignores the tear that slips down his face, letting it drip onto the floor as he scans the array of breakfast once more. He's not hungry. He hates that you've chipped a bit away at his façade, he hates that you're able to read him so easily. It only means he has to try harder to dominate this relationship.

The rest of the day was filled with nothing but silence and tension. 

After your encounter in the kitchen early that morning, it seemed you had no interest in interacting with Seungkwan. He didn't really care, taking the time instead to make the trip to the market. He'd heard you rustling about in your bedroom before he made his leave, and assumed you were trying to make yourself comfortable.

It'd begun raining after he left, making him agitated as he watched vendors put up their tarps in the market. He carefully roamed through the market, picking the best produce amongst the selections. He even stopped by a textile tent and picked out a few fabrics for you, assuming you'd need more clothing. He packed everything and made his way home, parasol over his shoulder as he arrived.

Only to enter the temple and see the oven aflame again, but you are nowhere near it. A loud roll of thunder sounds overhead, and he hears a soft sigh from the gardens. He leaves the items he got on the table, quickly making his way towards the garden doors to see you standing with your hands clasped behind your back, your clothing clinging to your skin as you let the rain drench you.

"You're going to get sick." He calls from the threshold, and you only peer over your shoulder at him. Shrugging, you turn back to look over the flower field he'd carefully curated, and he sees a few sprigs of lavender tucked over your ear. Your hair has been long soaked, sticking to your shoulders and back as he groans inwardly.

"Y/N, come inside."

"No." You turn to face him. "I like the way it feels." "The rain? It's cold and you're wet, your clothes are ruined." He says pointedly, and you shrug once more, looking up at the sky. 

"We were born naked, we will die naked. Who cares?" "You're being existential and it's freaking me out, come inside." He rolls his eyes, and you tilt your head at him. 

"Why don't you come out here? Have you ever danced in the rain?" "I don't dance, Y/N. Now, come on. I won't ask again." You seemingly oblige, slowly strolling back to the limestone and stopping a few feet in front of him. He steps to the side, assuming you'll walk inside. You shake your hand, holding your hand out. "Dance with me." He rubs his temples, a grimace on his face. "Didn't you say Jeonghan told you to be on your best behavior? This doesn't seem like very good behavior." "He said best behavior when you're bossing me around, not when I get to simply exist. It won't kill you to indulge me, aren't you supposed to be warm and welcoming?" You argue, your hand not dropping from where you've extended it.

"I'm supposed to guide you so you don't do something stupid, and you're here so I can ensure that your life can bring you something of fruit. Now, come inside, before I bring you in here myself." He's stern, but he can't help and notice the way your eyes flash as you take a step back.

"You're going to have to catch me, then." You're shrugging dramatically, and Seungkwan groans. 

"Y/N, don't do this." "I like it when you beg." You smirk, taking yet another step back. His jaw ticks and he sees you sprint off the limestone patio and into the flower field. He crosses his arms, letting you get as far as the marigolds before he sighs inwardly, stepping out into the rain and walking towards the field. "Gotta be faster than that, Seungkwan!"

He scowls at your teasing, feeling his stomach churn as he breaks into a jog, watching as you twirl into the zinnias. He doesn't like this, feeling like he's following your lead because you refuse to respect him as a god. He doesn't like the fact that he feels his shoulders less tense at the idea of it, and his mind has only the goal of dragging you inside before you get sick.

"Missed me, missed me!" You call, even making a show of doing a curtsy into the tulips. He's close enough to grab you, but waits. Your back is turned to him when he grabs your arm, pulling you to him. 

"Y/N, this is not a game." He mutters as you let him tug you close, a smile on your lips proving your enjoyment at making him work to catch you.  

"Yet, you played along." You reply coyly, before he rolls his eyes, and you nearly scream as he single-handedly throws you over his shoulder. 

"No more of this. You're going to have a bath and we're going to eat and go to bed. The real work starts tomorrow." You're silent as he walks the two of you back to the temple, feeling your cheeks hot at the placement of his ringed fingers around your thigh. You don't really like Seungkwan, because, well – you resent him for having sent you to the Underworld over friendly competition. But, you're still just a woman, and the feeling of his warm fingers gripping your skin was proof of carnal desire's existence within you.

He sets you down in the threshold, his nimble fingers making quick work of the pins in the makeshift skirt you'd wrapped yourself in earlier that morning. This seemed normal for him, gathering the pins between plump lips as he nearly ripped your top off. You weren't complaining, his knuckles brushing against your skin gently. "Go. Bathe. You'll get sick."

"Seems like an excuse just to see me naked, Seungkwan." "Go." His voice holds a bite before he gathers your hair in his hand, carefully wringing the water out just outside the doorway. A soft push of his damp hand on your shoulder makes you move forward, and you make your way to the hallway, peering over your shoulder to see the god grimacing as he peels his own top off, a low whistle from your lips before you disappear down the hall.

You can hear him groan as he walks around, likely cold from the rain. "Would you like to join me?" You call, and hear a scoff from the kitchen.

He doesn't respond, and you hear the trickle of water into the sink. You assume he's wringing your clothes out, and you shrug as you draw yourself a bath once more. You scour his shampoo jars carefully, this time grabbing the citrus one. The bathroom quickly fills with soft basil and grapefruit notes, and you sink yourself into the warmth of the water.

You don't know how much time has passed when you hear a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Seungkwan clearing his throat before asking if he can come in. You hum in approval, choosing to keep your eyes closed as he opens the door. You wear the soft brush of his robe against the door, and you ignore the disappointment settling in your stomach.

"I got you these at the market. I figured we'd be able to make something of them." He holds up a few pieces of linen, different patterns catching your eyes as you peel them open. You nod excitedly, leaning over the edge of the tub to look closer. "I have pins and sewing needles somewhere around here, we can get some measurements done when you're out." He says pointedly, giving you a quick once over before he holds up a towel and places it on the rack. "Be quick." "Don't you also need a bath?" You ask, leaning your cheek on your palm. 

He gives you a quizzical look. "Did you expect me to take it with you?" "Would that kill you? To be enticed by a human?" Your smile is sly, but he rolls his eyes. 

"Mortals and gods are meant to interact, Y/N." "Have you ever slept with one?" 

His brow furrows, before he scoffs. "Do you always ask such personal questions?" Shrugging, you lean back into the water. "Just wanted to know. I know some humans like sleeping with gods, it makes them feel important or whatever." You roll your eyes, and he just waves you off.

"I've no need to sleep with a mortal. There's a certain insatiability to humans that I simply don't have time for." He states, and you look up at him with squinted eyes. 

"You mean…?"

Sighing, he leans against the doorway of the bathroom. "Once you start messing around with humans like that, you can't stop. It's like…you feed off their mortality. You become addicted to how they feel, how they taste, how…vulnerable, they are." He looks a little disgusted as he says this, but shakes it off as he looks at the linens in his hands. "It would make me an unjust god to involve myself that way. My job isn't to bring you…sexual gratification." "Is that why Seungcheol is the way he is?" You ask, and you don't miss the way Seungkwan's eyes trail the way your legs peek over the soapy water. Shifting, his eyes snap back to yours, "No, Seungcheol is the way he is because he likes attention. He needs it to function." Rolling your eyes, "He's the god of the sky, everyone practically worships him." "Everyone but you, it seems." He says, and you smile at him. 

"Am I supposed to?" "My job is to guide you, but I won't tell you what you should or shouldn't do, you're a mortal. You've got free will." He clicks his tongue, before his fingers toy with the doorknob. "I'll be in my bedroom." "Get pretty while you wait for me." You wink, and he scowls. 

"You're such a brat." The door closes before you can say anything, only a laugh from your chest as you unplug the drain, watching the water slide down. You rinse off with the running water, carefully squeezing your hair of excess as you step out of the tub, gingerly wrapping the towel around yourself and tucking the corner in. 

Opening the door, you carefully walk down the hall to Seungkwan's room, hearing him rustle around before you knock. A muffled come in is heard, and you open the door to see him holding a few pins in his mouth as he drags a step stool to the center of the room. His eyes glance up at you, before he beckons you forward. You walk in, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him get situated.

"What's all this?" You peer at the materials he's laid out, seeing a pair of scissors oddly reminiscent of Wonwoo's style. 

"I can't have you working under me without proper attire. So, we're going to do some measurements, and I'll have this done by morning." "So I'm expected to be nude for the next few hours?" You scoff out a laugh, and he gives you a raised brow. 

"I have a few robes, if that'll make you feel better? It doesn't bother me either way, it's your body." "And you've never been attracted to a mortal?" You tease, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. 

"You won't let this go, will you?" "You may be a god, but you're also a man. Forgive me for assuming you think with both heads." You say, perching on the edge of the step stool and crossing one leg over the other. The towel bares your thighs, and he shakes his head.

"Not being intimate with mortals doesn't mean I don't feel lust or desire." He rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him. 

"But you won't give into your desires because it shows you're just as human as any of us, right?" He sighs, beckoning you to stand. "On the stool, please. Careful." He holds his hand out for the towel, and you peel it off slowly before handing it to him. He drapes it over the back of his desk chair as you step onto the flat seat of the stool. 

He analyzes you carefully, walking around your nude body with his fingers tapping his lips. "Do you prefer your clothes loose?" "On the bottom, easier access if I want to execute my free will." You use air quotes, and he snorts. 

"All humans are the same, riddled with their own desire." "I'm just a woman, Seungkwan. I have needs, too." You roll your eyes as he holds a piece of linen to your hip, before his other hand trails your back to meet the two corners of fabric together. He pins it carefully, before you speak again.

"So what do you do? When you're overwhelmed with want?" You make a show of your words, jazz hands around him as he drapes fabric in certain ways for a different flow. 

He shakes his head, "Do I have to answer that?" "What are you if not an honest god, Seungkwan?" Your teasing makes his jaw clench, you notice, but you say nothing as he pins the fabric in another spot. He doesn't respond, instead choosing to drape the fabric yet another way for more dimension. A few more folds and pins later, he steps back and looks at his work. "Pretty?" He asks, turning you to face the mirror behind you, his hands on your hips as he watches your reaction change into a timid smile. 

"Yeah, pretty." "Perfect." He nods, unpinning it at the hip so it can stay together as it falls off and he drapes it across the bed carefully. "I'll sew this for you and it can be your outfit for tomorrow! I think you need sleepwear, right?" He taps his chin as he thinks, scanning the remaining fabrics. "I don't mind sleeping like this, actually. I'd rather have more day clothing." You speak as you step off the stool, and he hums in response.

"Are you sure? It can get quite cold in the bedrooms." He says, reaching for a bright yellow piece of linen. He holds it up to your chest, a quizzical look in his eyes as he gazes at you carefully. 

"You can warm me up if I get too cold, can't you?" "What is it with you and these odd little questions, threadling? Are you attracted to me?" He rolls his eyes, not expecting you to shrug your shoulders. 

"I'm human, not blind. I might not like you, but I can appreciate that you're nice to look at." You worry his eyes might get stuck in his head if he keeps rolling them, but he shakes his head as he pins the yellow linen over your shoulder. "Humans, such odd creatures." "Odd is good though." You say into the air, and he smiles as he raises your arm to pin the fabric against your ribs. 

"Odd is good, you're right. It keeps me entertained." "I'm not going to be your jester, if that's what you're alluding to." You warn, and he actually laughs, for the first time since you'd arrived. 

"Nonsense, I'd never put you in that position." "What about others?" His face is closer than it had ever been as he pins the fabric around your neck, and he lets out a hum. "I guess we'll never know, will we?"

You're not satisfied with that answer, but Seungcheol made you good at everything – including luring people into your web of lust and yearning, making them a moth to your flame. Surely, Seungkwan was no different.

"But we could." You murmur, trailing your eyes down the soft curve of his jaw. Sighing, he steps back slightly and you feel his warm breath against your skin as he turns you to face the mirror once more. 

He holds the loose fabric in his fingers, pulling it taut against your torso. "We'd pin this back here. What do you think?" "I think you're avoiding my questions because you're scared of giving in to me." You say pointedly, watching his face in the reflection as he purses his lips. 

"Do you like the draping or not, so we can try something else?" "Yeah, I like it." You roll your eyes, feeling the fabric become loose once more as he lets it go, carefully moving around to unpin you. His fingers linger against your skin, before you're nude in front of the mirror once more. This goes on for a while, different linens being draped across your body in almost an expert manner. Pins are carefully put in and pulled out, and soon his bed is covered in your carefully folded options and set aside to be finished for you. "Here, I'm going to take a quick bath and then we need to eat dinner." He slides a robe over your shoulders, prompting you to slip your arms through the soft silk. 

"So seeing me like this does nothing for you?" You try again, and he just chuckles in disbelief.

"Do you want me to compliment you or something? You realize I've seen plenty of naked bodies in my lifetime, right?" He says, replacing the stool in the corner of the room as you perch on the edge of the bed. 

"Oh, I'm sure this is the norm for you. Just loads of beautiful women throwing themselves at you because they think you have something to offer them." "And yet, they never get anything from me." He nods, not seeing the way your eyes widen. 

"What?" "Exactly what I said. You're not the first human to be in this temple, and you might not be the last. Everyone needs me for one thing or another, and once they've gotten their fill, they think I can offer to fill their carnal desires. I guess they see it as a payment, but it's honestly just a bit insulting." He shrugs, and you hum in response.

"So you've never…slept with a mortal?" You ask, leaning on your hands as he rustles through his closet, conjuring a towel and returning in yet another robe. 

He shakes his head. "I never let it get that far." "But you'll do other things? You'll let them touch you?" You prod, and he shrugs, with a smile. 

"I like the game, not super into the prize. As much of a prize as a mortal can be, I guess. I know they don't really want me for me, so I just play along until they realize I won't be giving them what they want. At least, not fully." "What does that mean, though?" You call as he begins to take his walk down to the bathroom, and he sighs loudly. 

"Why does it matter, angel?"

Your lip twitches at the pet name. You choose not to respond, instead letting the conversation seep into your mind and hopping off the bed, making a beeline for the kitchen. 

Might as well make myself useful, you think.

It doesn't take long to prepare a light dinner. Wine, oiled bread and carefully speared fruit. You're forcing a skewer through lamb chunks when you hear him wander into the kitchen, the top notes of his minty soap slightly overwhelming.

You are just a woman, after all.

"Lamb?" He asks, and you can feel the heat of his body behind you. 

You hold up the skewer, nodding, "I figured it'd be quick and easy. I'd like to get to bed early, you said tomorrow would be my demise." "You're dramatic, that is not what I said." He snorts, moving away from you to get the fire started. The two of you work in unison to get dinner on the flame, opting to sit on the same side of the table and sip your wine as you stare at the fire.

"Do you ever feel lonely?" You ask, resting your wine in the dip of your lap. He shakes his head.

"No. I've heard a lot about that, though. Humans feel like they need someone, or something, to fill a void. I think it's just a feeling of emptiness because they've yet to love themselves and choose to fill the hole with material things, or attempt to patch it with someone else."

He sips his wine as you gawk at him, a scoff from your throat.

"That's not at all what that means, Seungkwan."

His head lolls to the side, a smile on his lips. "Isn't it, though? What do you take it to mean?" Okay, maybe he's right. Maybe.

"It means that you…the human emotion is very complex, you know? It means wanting more, it means being satisfied with yourself but wanting companionship. It means–" "It means humans are greedy." He interrupts, and you almost miss the way he inches a little closer. "It means all you do is take, and take, and take. Humans are slaves to the desires they feel, you don't really need anyone to be happy or fulfilled. It's all a human concept."

Your nose scrunches as you grimace, and he sighs, sliding his cup onto the table. "Humans act like loneliness is…for example, you see the stars." He gestures to the window above the counter, the sky now clear and the moonlight floods into the kitchen.

"Humans want to say that loneliness is the stars in the sky looking wrong. Or, they make up things like speaking to the moon and hoping their lover is somewhere else, looking at that very same moon and doing the same. Humans are experts in yearning, because of that free will you've been granted." He states, and you slide closer to him, your thigh bumping his.

"So you've never yearned for anyone?" You ask, looking slightly down at him as he leans back onto the table. 

He shakes his head, "I've never had anyone be worth enough to pine after. I'm just not the kind of god that needs that fulfillment, like Seungcheol or Wonwoo." "So you don't think any mortal and god love stories could be successful? Or any love stories, in general? Have you got a glacier for a heart?" 

He hums, "I do think it's possible, to love and to be loved. However, let's take Mingyu and Tzuyu, for example. Mingyu fell in love with her after striking himself with one of his own arrows. They've been inseparable since, but that doesn't mean they have a beautiful love story. It started as an honest mistake, and now they've been together for as long as I can remember." "Don't you remember how much Tzuyu fought for him after she betrayed him? How she faced his mother, who wanted her dead, to win him back? You don't think she loves him after all she suffered to earn him, and then Mingyu taking her to Seungcheol to make her into a goddess, moved by her love and dedication for him? You don't think that's far more than just a mistake?" "What, you believe in fate?" He asks lazily, and you scoff. "Yes! I do! I believe they were destined to be together!" You argue, and he smiles. 

"You would believe that, yeah. After all, Tzuyu was a mortal. Maybe you want the same for yourself." Your brows furrow, and you knock his shoulder gently. "I would never want to become a goddess, I'd rather die than fall in love with some god who thinks he's too good for me." "Oh, but isn't that what Mingyu did? Fall in love with a mortal despite being better than her, and bringing her to his world to have her forever?" He raises a brow, and you scowl. 

"Mingyu doesn't think that he's better than Tzuyu, otherwise he would have never asked Seungcheol to turn her into a goddess." Seungkwan sits up, his face now mere inches from yours as he speaks. "She betrayed his trust, after he said he could never see his face. Don't you know why that is?" "Have you ever thought that maybe it was to protect her?!" You tongue your cheek in annoyance, the acknowledgement of knowing maybe you're subtly wrong appearing on your face. He smiles, returning to his original position before sighing.

"You're somewhat right, I guess. But, I get it. I can see why that's a beautiful love story to you, full of forgiveness and dedication for a lover. Even if it did start off wrong, some of the most amazing stories never have very clean beginnings." He nods, before standing to retrieve the now cooked skewers from the fire.

You eat silently, the two of you still staring at the fire as you chew. Seungkwan swipes his napkin across your lip a few times, and you find yourself missing the touch as you clean up. He finishes off his wine, and yours once you offer it, and diligently washes both cups as the cicadas chirp outside the window.

Following behind him as he leads the way, you're hesitant to walk past him to your own bedroom. You'd lied about the bed, it was fine. In fact, you were sure it was better than Seungkwan's. "Something on your mind, angel?" He asks as you stop a few feet from your door, and you can almost hear the smug smirk on his face. You tap your foot, wondering if you should admit to the silly little fear of yours. "Closed mouths don't get fed." He calls again, and you huff, turning on your heel and walking to stand in front of him. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" You mutter, hearing his tongue click and echo around the temple. 

"Why? And it's not that my bed is better than yours, I know that." You scowl, "I don't like sleeping alone. I don't like the dark."

His amused look is hidden by his hand over his mouth, a pout on your own as you cross your arms. "You're such a human." "You're being mean." Mumbling, you push past him and tug the covers off his bed. He watches you silently, your robe sliding off your body and pooling at your feet before you slide into the warm duvet. He bites back a laugh, before stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him. Walking up to the bed, he picks the robe up and hangs it on the bedpost, before rounding the frame and copying your movements on the opposite side. Your eyes are open, and you watch as he slips in next to you.

"Stay on your side. You can obey that, right?" He says into the air, facing away from you as he pulls the cover over his waist. Your eyes trail his back, shoulders slightly tensed as he gets comfortable. You want to reach out and touch him, but choose to clench your hands under your pillow, before sighing and turning the other way.

"Goodnight, Seungkwan."

"Goodnight, angel."

FOUR.

Somehow, Seungkwan was on the other side of the bed.

You were nestled into his naked torso, your lips pouted against his neck. Your hair was a mess around you, your leg flung over his waist as you slept soundly. He rolls his eyes, wondering how to get out of the position without waking you. It's barely dawn, he likes some time to himself before dealing with the mortals that are honestly the bane of his existence.

He gently wraps his fingers around your knee, moving you off his body with precision. He'd never let any of the other mortals sleep in his bed, much less with him, but he knows it's the guilt from killing you off years ago. Unfortunately, Seungkwan is far too aware of his wrongs. In the past, he'd gotten scolded by several of his peers due to his harsh nature. He and Vernon got drunk over an aged wine a few years after your disappearance and Seungkwan admitted he'd jumped the gun on punishment.

What he didn't know was that Vernon spoke to Seungcheol about it, who then spoke to Jeonghan about it. That's how they came up with sending you back to Seungkwan for your last chance at life, maybe you could right your wrongs with each other. You both struggle with pride and yearn to be perfect, never wanting to admit when you're wrong.

But you were human, you knew you couldn't be perfect. You had a softer heart, not having seen the things Seungkwan had seen or lived the life he'd known. Seungkwan had built his walls up nice and high, and rarely let anyone in to take a peek. You in his bed was something he'd never allow if you were just anyone.

He knows it's also his attraction for you coming to the surface. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was this he'd been looking for in every lover he'd ever tried to have – your witty remarks, your obvious disinterest in him or his skills as a god. You weren't looking at him as some being worth worshiping, but someone who needed to be loved, to be held together and forgiven – despite resenting him.

He knows you can't possibly know how much his past decisions weigh on him, but it is scary to think that you can sense something about him. You know something, something that makes him feel uneasy, and it's what's inside. You know his pain, his truth, his heart.

Sighing, he softly rolls you onto your back, covering your bare frame with the duvet. It's only half true, what he said about your body – he's amazed at every curve and dimple, he wants to run his hands all over you until the end of time. He likes the way your hips swing as you walk, the bounce in your step and how soft your cheeks are. How soft you are.

What kind of god is he if he gives into his desires? If he sinks his teeth into you like a cat catching a mouse, if he lets you teeter him around like a puppet for just a taste of you? What kind of god is he if he lusts after you when he knows getting involved with mortals won't end well for him, especially when he knows the moment you sink your claws into him, he'd be a goner? Not much of a god then, is he? "Don't go." You murmur, eyes still closed and brows scrunched as you touch his wrist. He jolts slightly, but moves to pull away anyway. "I have to. I need to make your clothes." He whispers back, the sun beginning to peek in through the open window. 

Pouting, you pull him closer. "Just a little longer." "The sky's awake, angel. I have to be up." He works your fingers off his wrist, splaying your hand across his pillow. "I'm still in the room, I'm not going anywhere." This seems to be enough for you, as he grabs the robe you wore the night before and shrugs it on. He wipes at his eyes carefully, stretching before he slides off the bed. He tucks the corner of the duvet under the pillow, watching your fingers grasp at the pillowcase.

He moves around quietly, gathering the linens he'd pinned for you the night before. He sits at his desk, opening his drawer to get his glasses out and prepares needle and thread. Glancing up, he sees you pouting still, burying your face into his pillow with a sigh – and feels a twinge in his chest.

Zeroing back in, he quietly sews the linen as the sun rises slowly. You toss and turn, frustrated sounds coming from the direction of his bed enticing him to look over – but he doesn't. It's not until he accidentally pricks his finger with a pin that he notices you've gotten up and are settling on the floor next to his chair. 

"What are you doing, threadling?" He asks, almost as if he doesn't really care what you're doing. 

"Can't sleep." You mutter, reaching your fingers out to touch his ankle as you lay down, wrapping yourself like a burrito in the blanket. He peers down at you, seeing the way your fingers ghost over his skin when he sighs, pushing his chair back carefully.

"Alright, come on. Get up." 

You groan up at him, feeling him move away from your fingertips as you sit up. "What?" He doesn't respond, choosing to walk away from you and sink back into the bed. He huffs a bit, trying to hide the giddy feeling in his stomach as he sees you slowly approach. "Quickly, before I change my mind." You climb onto the bed at that, abandoning the blanket on the floor as you lay next to him, your arm loosely wrapping around his torso as he pulls the duvet over you. "Don't lay on the floor again, okay? Just ask me to come back."

"I did, you left me anyway." You murmur, a sad look etched on your brows before you sigh into his robe. He stops himself from comforting you, his fingers aching to run through your wild hair and biting back his apology. He sits silently, letting you drift back asleep holding his hip.

He doesn't like wasting the day. He knows he should pry himself away, and pull you out of bed too. He just can't bring himself to disturb your peace that way.

He gives in, his fingers gently stroking your hairline, moving stray hairs off your face. You lean into the warmth of his hand as he moves the hair off your neck, thumbing the shell of your ear carefully before clearing his throat.

"We've got a busy day, Y/N. We need to get up."

His fingers graze your neck softly, before his thumb caresses your jaw. You sigh into the air as you open your eyes, looking up at him. "It's so early." "Early bird gets the worm. You've yet to have breakfast and get dressed. Come on." He's speaking softly, his thumb now tracing circles into your soft cheeks. He can't help it, pinching the fat gently before moving away. Thankfully, you don't question his actions, just sluggishly throw the duvet off your body. He holds up the skirt from before, the ruby red material glittering in the light. "This one, yes? And the pink top? Or the white one?" "What is this, dress-up?" You yawn, and Seungkwan frowns. "Be nice, I made this for you." "Sorry, oh wisest one. Dress me like a doll." You stand and stretch your arms up, and he rolls his eyes as he carefully wraps the skirt around you, feeling your hands on his shoulders as he pins it in place. 

"Maybe I'll add a little drawstring so it's more secure, hm?" He's speaking to himself, but you nod anyway. "Arms up." He says, before tugging the soft white shirt over your head, carefully slipping your arms through. "There we go. What do you think? Pretty?" He turns you to face the mirror once more, hands on your hips as you sleepily look at yourself. You nod in silence, and he cards his fingers through your hair gently, pulling it back and pulling a piece of white ribbon out of his pocket. He ties the hair back carefully, the ribbon looped into a bow. "So it won't get in the way. Oh, and I'll get my leathersmith started on some shoes for you sometime this week. You'll just be indoors today, so don't worry about getting hurt."

You're peering at him through the mirror, your hands folded in front of you as you speak. "Why do you ask if I think the outfit is pretty?" He raises a brow, "Why the question?" "You asked if I think I look pretty. Why does it matter? It's just us." You shrug, the flowing material of the skirt flowing smoothly as you turn to face him. "And it's not like you'd tell a mortal she's pretty, would you?" Seungkwan can feel that same guttural guilt he felt earlier slowly begin to slip away. He couldn't figure you out – you could be so sweet, so flirty and pouty, and then you could be this. Defiant, bratty, argumentative.

"Can't I want to know if you feel good in what I'm making for you? Would you rather I make you wear a sack? Or walk around nude for anyone to see you?" He scoffs, seeing you smile inwardly. "Does anyone involve you?" He doesn't respond, shaking his head as he sinks into his closet.

Yeah. Anyone involves him, and probably just him.

The morning was messy.

You and Seungkwan bickered over breakfast, ending with the entire kitchen being covered in flour, spilled milk all over the floor and broken eggs across the counter. He'd pulled a recipe from his collection and said that since this was day one of you officially working under him, you'd have to learn how to cook, clean, tend to the garden, amongst other things. You didn't think a dozen biscuits would make you snap.

He'd watched you carefully the entire time, correcting you every time you were wrong with an almost hawk-like precision. It began to irritate you, so you started to make snide remarks. Something about him looking down on you, something about him not trusting you to make a stupid recipe. He'd given you a hard look and said that measuring was important, prying the wrong measuring spoon out of your hand. It took a bit more of Seungkwan saying that's wrong, wrong measurement…for you to throw an egg at him. You missed just barely, with Seungkwan grimacing as the egg splattered and slid down the wall. You mixed angrily as he watched the egg pool on the floor, before his eyes took in the mess you'd made all over the kitchen – spilling milk from him telling you that you poured too much, flour dusted all over the floor from him telling you to let the dough rest before you molded it.

It resulted in Seungkwan leaving the kitchen to collect himself, before returning to seeing you watching the dough intensely. Your impatience would be the bane of his existence.

Neither of you spoke after the portioned dough went into the oven. Jaws tense, shoulders rigid as you moved around each other to clean up. Or rather, as you cleaned up and he sliced fruit for breakfast.

It seemed that neither of you really wanted to do anything else, either, as you watched Seungkwan tinker around the garden alone. He'd said nothing about needing space, but you figured it was probably what was best – so you dragged the stepstool to his bedroom window and watched as he carefully picked flowers from the garden, your eyes drawn to the decorative patches of daisies. You felt a bit like a prisoner. Nobody had told you whether or not you were allowed to leave, or go beyond the temple. You were sure Seungkwan wouldn't force you to stay here, after all, he'd reminded you quite a bit of your free will. Free will that you can't really act on, because then you'd be invading him. It felt almost like a betrayal, the way your body responded to seeing him again. Like he'd grown more interesting to your brain, something sunken in the back of his gaze that said maybe he liked seeing you, too. It was annoying, how you felt this overwhelming need to be around him, even if you knew you just wanted to bicker and bother and nag him. You wanted him to be sorry, you wanted him to show you he was sorry for what happened between you all those years ago.

Unfortunately, you also know well enough to understand why he did it. Pride, the easiest sin of all, had marked you as its prey. And it's fine. You're fine, you think, because if Seungkwan can sin so can you.

Sighing to yourself, you've seen that the god has vanished from the garden. Your eyes gaze upon the vast garden, searching for him when you hear his light footsteps echoing in the temple. You refuse to look back, hearing him enter the bedroom as you cast your eyes to the windowsill. A butterfly rests carefully, when you hear him clear his throat.

"I'll be going into town. Don't expect me home before nightfall."

You turn quickly, your eyes wide. "Can I go, too? I don't want to be locked away here like some damsel in distress." He shakes his head, "Not tonight. I'm just meeting a friend. You can go wherever you please, but I bought something for you from an old student of mine. I'd like you to be here to receive it." 

He's rolling his sleeves up, and you see now the basket of flowers he'd been gathering placed gingerly on the vanity. "Are the flowers for her?" "Her?" He echoes, and you narrow your eyes. "It's a her, right? The friend you're meeting?"

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, angel." He taunts, before swiping his hair back carefully. "Again, I'll be back before nightfall. Roam the gardens, meet the few neighbors we have, do as you please. Make sure you eat dinner." In a way, you feel like a neglected housewife.

"You're leaving now?" You don't mean to sound so sad, so small. So…needy.

He looks at you over his shoulder, a raised brow. "You don't want me to?"

You don't say anything, flitting your eyes to the flowers on the vanity. He sighs, walking towards you and reaching for the window shutters. He pulls them closed, "Looks like rain, anyway." "No, go. You can go, don't stay because of me." You rush out, standing quickly. He glances at you carefully, eyes narrowed. "It's Mingyu and Tzuyu, they'll understand." "Please, go. It'll do me some good to be alone with my thoughts for a while." You nearly clasp your hands together in prayer, as if begging him to leave. He's hesitant, eyes scanning your features quickly before nodding. "I'll be home soon, okay?" You nod as he inches back towards the doors, and you pull the shutters back open, letting the setting sunlight back in. He takes the basket of flowers gingerly and you retake your seat on the stool quietly, before calling out to him.

"See you later."

Seungkwan can barely hold himself up as he nears the temple. Mingyu and Tzuyu offered to drop him off after their dinner together, but he refused – insisting he needed some time to think.

Tzuyu had asked about his latest pupil – upon hearing that it was you, she nearly choked on her wine. He simply focused on his mushroom soup, insisting he didn't really care.

Mingyu hadn't bought it, and casually dropped you into conversation every chance he got. He waxed poetic about the way a mortal loves, the way they feel, the way they taste. Everything Seungkwan had been told was like a drug – and something he couldn't bring himself to indulge in any more than he already had – despite it not ever doing much for him. He had even told you so – mortal and god relationships weren't for the faint of heart, for eventually, it'd be the god left standing alone.

So, no. He wouldn't indulge – even if the god of love himself was encouraging it. 

Mingyu and Tzuyu were a special case. It wasn't everyday Seungcheol had something pull at his heartstrings, such as the love between the couple had. A love that proved imperfection could be overlooked, that Mingyu's heart sang for Tzuyu as the birds did every morning.

Seungkwan just blinked and drank his wine, keeping quiet as the trio eventually scoured the market.

He had seen a few things he thought you'd like – many a ball of yarn, skirts that wouldn't fall lower than your mid-thigh woven from dyed silk and sparkled with glued rhinestones. But one thing caught his eye most – a gold necklace with a small emerald pendant. Representing growth and renewal, the emerald mocked him. Representing you returning to the Overworld to change, and choosing to change for the better. He bought it, and shoved it in his pocket as Mingyu and Tzuyu perused new linens for their home.

Seungkwan understood that he could desire you. He could, and that it was perfectly okay to get involved with you. It was perfectly okay to explore your body, to become one with you, to let you into his heart and let you make yourself at home in it. His fear wasn't in the commitment or the fact that it was you, someone he'd hurt so long ago – but the fact that your suspicions of his imperfection would ring with truth. He knew he wasn't perfect, he knew that he had his flaws – but what kind of a god was he to admit that to a mortal? At this point, he considers admitting it to himself to be progress.

Sighing, he grabs the pillar of the temple to steady himself. He'd drunk a bit too much to stand up straight, but he was coherent enough to hear you toss and turn as he entered the sacred home. Your groan was evident, as was the thwip of his bedsheets as he quietly walked down the hall.

He tugs his shirt over his head before opening the door softly, watching as you shoot up in bed with the duvet covering your chest. 

"You're home." You breathe out, and he just nods silently, stumbling into the closet and fumbling around as he peels his clothes off. He hears the clatter of the necklace he bought on the marble tile, before looking down and picking it up. He holds it up to the moonlight, before grabbing his robe and shrugging it on, slipping the jewelry into his pocket. 

He doesn't acknowledge you as he walks to the bathroom, beelining for his toothbrush. He could bathe in the morning – he just wants to lie down next to you and breathe you in.

"How was it?" You call as he trudged back, his hands shoved in his pockets as he slightly swayed from side to side. Shrugging, "Ate. Talked to Mingyu and Tzuyu. Got a little drunk, I'm definitely going to feel it in the morning. Sorry." You smile at him, shaking your head before pulling the duvet back as he reaches the side of the bed. You're sitting with your knees to your chest, and he catches a glimpse of the skirt you were wearing earlier hung across the back of his desk chair. "Do you ever wear clothes to bed?" "Just when you make me." You shrug, and he shakes his head, biting back a smile. "I got you something." You quickly tuck your legs under yourself as you sit up, the duvet falling off your body and the moonlight illuminating your skin. He tears his eyes away, pulling his hand out of his pocket and holding up the necklace. Your hand floats to your chest, having abandoned your own necklace in the bathroom the day you arrived at the temple. It felt too heavy, then. Too synonymous with your first life.

"It represents growth. You're making a choice to grow as a person, and make better decisions. No matter the reason behind it, you're still attempting to make amends and I think that deserves a small reward." Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, his fingers carefully unclasping it and beckoning you closer. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the bed, wary of him as your knees touch his thighs. "I don't bite, you know. Not unless you want me to."

"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes, and he raises an eyebrow before his hands ghost over your skin. His fingers carefully hold your hair out of the way as he clasps the necklace around your neck, the pendant sitting low on your chest. He fixes it, twisting it so the gem faces out. "I expect you to treasure this." You blink up at him, before wrapping your arms around him and enveloping him in a soft embrace. "Thank you." You whisper, and he feels himself tense up as you squeeze gently. His hands ghost over your back, before slightly shaky fingers touch the warmth of your skin.

"You're welcome, angel. Did you eat dinner like I said?" He asks, not having the courage to pull away from you, not when your warmth feels so…something. You nod against his chest, your cheek pressed against his skin making him feel a little hot.

"It wasn't much, I didn't like being by myself."

"I'm here now, angel. I'll take you with me next time, I promise." He reassures, feeling his stomach feel with giddiness at the thought of spending time with you around his friends. Okay, that involves admitting Mingyu was right – but he doesn't need to touch base on that just yet.

"Oh, your friend dropped by." You make no move to get out of his grasp, his fingers now subconsciously tracing circles into your lower back. "Mmh? Did you like your gift?" He'd asked Chan to source a loom for you. He knew it was something you liked, and probably something that could fill any free time that he managed to have. He knew it'd remind you of your father, too, and he wanted something to give you a sense of belonging.

"I love it. Thank you." You murmur, and he feels your lips press lightly into his chest. Warmth blooms in his cheeks as he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your body and now resting on your shoulders. "We'll be in the garden tomorrow, so we should get some rest." You nod, laying back onto the bed, inching over to your side (that wasn't really your side, just 'yours' because you refused to sleep in your room.) He hung his robe on the bedpost, and slid under the covers, facing away from you and urging the heat in his body to go away. HIs mind doesn't get to wander much further, though, as your sigh is the last thing he hears before he hears before he feels his eyes heavy with sleep.

He could think about it tomorrow.

FIVE.

Okay. This is normal. This happens to everyone. This happens to everyone.

…He's not everyone.

He's trying to convince himself that your ass pressed against him isn't affecting him in any way, shape or form. He's trying to think of the most disgusting things to make his hardening cock go down so he doesn't wake you so lewdly. He can't even fucking move away from you, because somehow, throughout the night – you managed to get him to spoon you, and now your fingers are interlocked with his over the top of his hand.

He's literally trapped between a rock (hard boner) and a hard place (again…his boner.) He tries not to let his internal panic show as he controls his breathing, carefully trying to pull himself out of your grasp. He feels your grip tighten around his hand, and peers over to see your brows furrowed and lip jutted out in a pout.

"Stay." You murmur, obviously completely oblivious to his predicament.

"I have to get up, angel." He wiggles his fingers under yours, making you sigh discontentedly. "You said you'd stay if I asked." He did. He did say that.

"I know, angel, I know. I'll come back, I promise." He murmurs, and he sees you peel open one of your eyes and gently twist your head to look at him. Your eye scans his face, before you close it and turn back.

"If you want me to help you, I can. It doesn't have to mean anything." He chokes slightly, seeing you snuggle your face further into your pillow.

He wants to. He really, really wants you to touch him, he wants to feel you all over him. He wants to hold you close and feel everything you have to give him, taking everything you want to give him.

He feels your thumb gently stroking his knuckles, the cool metal of your ring startling before you speak softly. "It's just me. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to, or if you do. It's normal." Your reassurance isn't something he expected nor knew he needed. He clears his throat, before the warmth of your hand has moved. You're turning to face him, peering up at him with sleepy eyes. You're so beautiful.

He doesn't realize he's staring at you until he feels your nails gently raking up and down his torso. Your eyes are drinking him in carefully, before they ultimately close again and you nuzzle your nose into his neck without a word. Your fingertips graze the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily as a whine rips through him. He hasn't been touched by anyone that isn't himself in years.

And now, it's you. Your hands, your body, you.

"Can I make you feel good? Please?" You press soft kisses into his neck, nipping lightly at his skin. He nods quickly, a muffled yes slipping past his lips as he covers his mouth with his hand. You push him onto his back gently, trailing kisses down his neck and chest as you take his weeping cock in your soft hand. You hold it as your teeth graze at any inch of skin you can reach, before looking up at him.

"I can't kiss you, right?" He can feel his heart ache at the slight…sadness? in your tone, and the way it shows in your eyes as he shakes his head no. "I…" "You what? You're sorry?" You roll your eyes, squeezing his length gently. "Don't be, gorgeous." He doesn't get a chance to respond before your tongue is on him, running carefully along the underside of his cock. He covers his mouth with his hand, a shudder running through his body as you spit in your hand, stroking him slowly and pressing kisses all over his stomach. His free hand grips the duvet, before you slot your fingers in his.

You don't look at him as you take him in your mouth, your tongue licking gently as he groans softly. His fingers squeeze around yours, and you hum to yourself as you sink further down his length, gagging around his tip as his hips buck. A whimper from his throat tears through the air as you stroke what doesn't fit, hollowing your cheeks slightly.

He's holding back noises, the room filling with the wet sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Soft huffs of yeah, murmurs of holy f-fuck only spur you on further, feeling his hand untangle from yours to card through your hair and move your head up and down at his leisure. His grip tightens as you swirl your tongue around his tip.

"Oh my…" He whines, and you tease your tongue down the thick vein. "Oh my…what? Oh my God?"

He scoffs at you, but his words fade on his tongue as you sink down on him again. You gag around him, pulling a throaty moan from his bitten lips as he cants into your mouth. "S-Sorry, I can st–" You groan around him, feeling his tip twitch as it touches the back of your throat again. He whimpers, his release spilling into your mouth. It's a little salty as it coats your tongue, but you slide him out with a pop. Your tongue diligently cleans the mess, overstimulating him as he squirms, pushing your head back.

You trail soft kisses up his torso, nipping at his chest before moving up his neck. You peer down at him, eyes locked with his as he blinks up at you. "All better, right?" You say gently, and feel your chest swell with pride, seeing his cheeks tinge pink as he looks away.

Shrugging, you brush his hair out of his eyes, kissing his cheeks lightly. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling as he scrunches it. Lowering your head, your teeth tug at his earlobe before you speak softly.

"Always an angel, never a god." You murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you slink off the bed. You stand up straight, stretching your arms over your head with a soft groan.

You don't see his humiliated expression, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you make your way out of the bedroom. You don't see the way he covers himself with the blanket as you turn into the bathroom, or the way he hides his face in his hands and angrily wipes at his eyes.

Always an angel, never a god.

The day went by quietly.

You bathed and made breakfast, and stayed…mostly true to your word. You didn't bring up anything that happened that morning, and Seungkwan didn't say anything about your condescending comment afterwards. He chose to spend his day in the garden, even as the rain started falling.

You watched from the doorway, holding the cloth he'd given you right after breakfast. He'd instructed you to wash the windows around the temple, and you'd done so without a fight. A part of you felt that today wasn't a day to mess with him, but you also figured that what you'd said this morning was enough to knock him off the pedestal he'd put himself on.

You felt a little guilty, but was it not the truth?

What kind of a god is he to fall prey to your temptation? What kind of a god is he to take from you what he's not willing to give, to your knowledge? What kind of god is he, to judge you for being lustful, to judge you for yearning for another's touch, when yours made him come undone?

Not a very good one, that's what. Right?

You watched him as the rain fell, the way his brows furrowed as he continued picking flowers and wrapping herbs with twine. He walked around like the rain did nothing, and you sighed inwardly. You turned on your heel, abandoning the bucket of soapy water and the cloth in lieu of entering the kitchen, rooting around for his kettle. You'd grabbed a towel earlier and draped it over the back of the dining chairs, hoping he'd come in eventually.

He'd want something warm, you think.

You busy yourself with making a warm tea, hearing Seungkwan groan as he slips his wet clothing off at the entrance. You hear the wet plop of the clothing dropping on the floor, and you hear his teeth chatter a bit as you peek your head around the corner.

His chest was blooming with evidence of your teeth on him from earlier. You feel your chest fill with heat as you notice the prominent trail of love bites down to his waist. Your eyes widen as you grab the towel, silently trekking the expanse between you and holding it out to him. He gives you a frown.

"Take it, you'll get sick." You grimace, and he ignores you as he kicks off his shoes, his fingers toying with the buckle of his belt. He pulls it through the loops, tossing it to the side when you huff, shoving the towel into his chest. "You're going to get sick!" "I don't need your help, Y/N." He shoves it back, and you scowl, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

"You didn't mind my help this morning. Take the fucking towel." His eyes narrow as he chooses to turn away, shoving his pants down his legs and kicking the soaked material out of his way. "I didn't need it then." "You're such a fucking brat, Seungkwan." You throw the towel on the ground as he pushes past you, heading towards the bathroom. You storm back into the kitchen, your brain telling you to dump out the tea.

Unfortunately, you don't quite listen to your brain very often. You pour the tea into a cup, hearing the rain slow down. Looking out the kitchen window, you see it stop entirely. You start to think the rain is symbolic of every time you have a spat with Seungkwan, and you wouldn't put it past Seungcheol to try and Pavlov that idea into your brain.

Grimacing, you stir in a spoonful of honey. The only water you hear now is that of the running faucet in the bathroom, and you felt your chest heavy as you think of Seungkwan.

How his skin felt under your bruised fingers. The way he tasted. Something soft, balanced. How he reacted and how he forced himself to hold back, how his fingers felt as they squeezed your hand for dear life.

You shake your head, biting down hard on your cheek to ground yourself. This was ridiculous. Today was only the fourth day of him…'mentoring' you. It seems that the two of you had forgotten that that was why you were sent here – to 'develop' your skills, to 'embrace' your mortality, to 'find yourself.'

Quite the contrary – it felt an awful lot like you were losing yourself in this. In him, the comfort of his bed, the warmth of his touch and attention. You weren't complaining – truthfully, it'd been a long time since you felt desired, or any sort of desire bubbling within you. There was that one time with Wonwoo six years ago, and that oddball moment with Jeonghan right after your fourth visit to the Underworld. 

This…felt different.

You felt guilty, you felt like you weren't putting your best foot forward. With Jeonghan and Wonwoo, it was something that happened in the heat of the moment. Something that was for the instantaneous satiation of both parties, and you were never one to shy away from a night of fun with anyone – including mortals. You'd had your fair share in just your first life, why would you stop now? Seungkwan…felt like something just out of your reach, as much as you hated to admit it. He felt like something you had to work towards, someone you had to prove yourself to. He held himself in a high regard, with standards that you weren't so sure you met.

But he looked at you with such an intense mix of disdain…and desire. Something that screamed he didn't want to look at you as anything more than yet another pupil, but he couldn't help his eyes from wandering. He could lie to you all he wanted, but you feel different.

Sighing, you leave the tea on the table, clasping your hands behind your back. You walk silently out of the kitchen and down the hallway, passing the bathroom just as Seungkwan opens the door. He gives you a quizzical look but you continue on anyway, making your way to your bedroom.

The place is barren aside from the bed, the lamp, a pair of nightstands and the loom you were given. The floor is colder here than the rest of the temple, and you don't know if that's on purpose or not. You flop onto the bed with a grunt, your head hitting the pillows and you stare at the ceiling.

What is the point of you being here, anyway? You and Seungkwan hardly speak. He's not teaching you anything you don't already know – even if baking a dozen biscuits isn't your strong suit, you can make a decent batch. You know how to pick pretty flowers, you know how to make tea, you can make clothes and you can certainly weave a damn good tapestry.

Why can't you just keep doing that? Why can't you just keep your word to Seungcheol and Jeonghan and stay out of Seungkwan's way? "It's because we don't trust you." You jolt out of the bed, your head just barely missing the edge of the nightstand as you fall off. You feel your shoulder hit the corner of an open drawer, drawing a loud fuck! from your lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You groan from the floor, and Jeonghan just chuckles as he hops through the open window, rounding the bed to kneel beside you. You sit up, rubbing furiously at your shoulder in attempts to soothe the shooting pain. "A little bird told me you were being a bad girl, Y/N." "Oh fuck off, I was not!" Whining, you look at the already bruising skin under your shirt. You scoff, peering up at Jeonghan, who smiles down at you. "So what do you call sleeping with the enemy?" "I did not sleep with him! I merely performed a sexual act for him. God forbid I have a little fun." You scowl, and Jeonghan pinches your cheek gently. "Seungcheol is not happy about it, darling. You know the rules." "The rules were I don't challenge anyone. You never said I couldn't go down on the person holding me hostage." You say pointedly, making Jeonghan snort out a laugh. "I mean, I don't care. I get it, and I think I know you better than anyone when I say you're not interested in Seungkwan for what he can offer you, but what you can discover about him…with him." You slump against the wall, a pout on your lips when you hear a knock on the door. Jeonghan's eyes grow wide as Seungkwan edges the door open, worming his arm through and holding a plate out to you.

"Dinner." "You eat alone here?" He asks, and Seungkwan's head pokes through the crack with eyes so wide, you feared they'd pop out. "Jeonghan? What are you doing here?"

"Just reconnecting with my little troublemaker." He shrugs, pinching your cheek as you frown, shoving his hand away. Seungkwan's eyes show his conflicted feelings, and he simply steps in and slides the plate on the nightstand. "Bring the plate back to the kitchen before sundown." He spins on his heel, and leaves. The door shuts quietly behind him, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. You give him a sheepish smile in return, but neither of you make a move for the light dinner on the nightstand.

"You eat alone?" "No. I think…ugh." You bring your knees to your chest, burying your face into them as you groan. "I fucked up, Jeonghan." "Oh, good! The plan is working!" He cheers, before reaching for the plate on the nightstand. "Here, let's split this lovely dinner. I'm a long way from home, you know." You just groan again, and Jeonghan clicks his tongue at you. "That's the whole point of this, darling. You get knocked down a few pegs, and Seungkwan gets loosened up. Granted, neither Cheollie nor I figured you'd go this route but, whatever works." "Cheollie?" You snort, and Jeonghan shrugs. "That's my best friend, and he pays for all my fish. I can call him whatever I want." You shake your head as Jeonghan offers you a piece of bread, and you bite into it as you lean your head back against the wall. "He hates me." You mutter around the bread, and Jeonghan laughs.

"I'd argue the opposite, my dear. I think that the two of you find each other very intriguing. It's almost like two cats sizing each other up before deciding if the other is a threat. In this case, you're a small cat with a huge ego and he's a big cat with…well, a multitude of problems. You are human enough that you know how to relax, but also annoying enough to figure out what buttons to press to rile him up enough to break." "I don't think calling me annoying is helping your case here, Jeonghan." You smack his thigh, and he laughs gently. "I just think the two of you balance each other well. You're so painfully human, and so open about your flaws. Seungkwan has a hard time admitting aloud that he isn't perfect, because this lavish life we live…it weighs on him. Sometimes, I wonder if Cheollie did the right thing." "What do you mean?" You ask, taking a piece of sliced peach off the plate and peeling the skin off. Jeonghan shrugs, and speaks around a chunk of fig.

"Seungkwan is very loved, don't get me wrong. However, Seungkwan is quite literally Seungcheol's biggest headache. He came about after Cheol had yet another affair with someone aside from his ex-wife. Seungkwan cannot fathom being anything like Seungcheol in regards to his adulterous behavior and incessant need for attention, so he isolates his heart." Jeonghan turns to you, eyeing the furrow in your brow as you chew. "You bring it out of him, you know? The ability to feel more than he allows himself to. The range of emotions is much broader with you around, and we feel like it will be good for him." "You know he said he won't kiss me?" You mumble, and Joenghan leans his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes. "I know, darling. It's addicting, the kiss of a mortal. You should know better, your pretty lips are what gets you in trouble." You scoff, but sigh.

"How does he know? Has he…kissed other mortals?" You don't know you're pouting until you feel Jeonghan's thumb on your lip. "Plenty. I think…maybe there is something different about you to him. Maybe it's the guilt." "Or he's in love with me." You roll your eyes, the phrase feeling foreign on your tongue. You'd never been in love before, and to be honest, you didn't care to be. Jeonghan hums next to you, before looking up. "Maybe." There is a moment of silence before you choke out a laugh. "Yeah, right. The guy hates my guts." "He doesn't hate you, darling. He just doesn't understand you, but that's why you're here." Jeonghan shrugs, before pressing a kiss to your temple. "Be a good girl, okay? He's trying his best, just like you are." "I'll try my best, Jeonghan." You sigh, watching as the god stands, and stretches before he steps in front of the window. "And, Y/N?" "Yes, Jeonghan?" Jeonghan smiles, his maroon eyes flashing with a hint of mirth as he swings his legs over the windowsill. "Don't fall too fast." You scoff as he disappears, and look down to pick at the last piece of fruit on the plate. Half a fig.

Sighing, you pick it up and stand, walking towards the door and opening it. You slip into the hall quietly, noting the moonlight lighting the temple nicely. Walking into the kitchen, you see Seungkwan nursing a glass of wine as he sits in front of the oven.

There's yet another dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt baking before you. The two of you had practically inhaled the first loaf, sneaking bites throughout the last two days. He looks up as he hears you step in, lips pursed before turning back.

You sigh inwardly, shoveling the last fig you picked at into your mouth before leaving the plate in the sink. He says nothing as you slide into the seat next to him, but offers his glass. You take it silently, keeping your gaze forward.

"You don't like skin on peaches?" He asks quietly, and you press your lips into a thin line. "No. My dad always peeled them for me." "Dads…" He nods, and you glance at him. "Yeah. You're…Seungcheol's favorite, right?" "Don't." The wine bottle from behind him is brought to his lips, and you stare at your fingernails. "Don't…what? Isn't he–" "Hardly." Seungkwan mutters, and you don't press further. You know that Seungkwan doesn't resent or dislike Seungcheol, all the gods in this world seemed very close and proved it often. Seungcheol has spoken highly of Seungkwan in all the times you've ever gotten to speak to him, usually in Jeonghan's presence. Typically over a dinner before Jeonghan would send you back with Wonwoo and Cerberus.

Seungkwan sighs beside you, and you resist the urge to reach and touch him. You grip the edge of the bench, forcing yourself to stare at the bread before Seungkwan gets up, taking it out carefully with the wooden peel. He slides it onto the counter, before the fire goes out in front of you.

"It's nightfall. Off to bed." He murmurs, and you nod silently, downing the rest of the wine in the glass he gave you. He takes it, gently placing it into the sink as you stand. "Goodnight, Seungkwan." "You're sleeping in your room tonight?" He asks, eyes expectant. You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks burn as you nod. "Yes. At least, I'll try to." He hums, nodding. "Good luck, threadling. I'll see you in the morning." Pushing past you, you hear him walk briskly down the hallway, his heavy door opening and shutting before you even turn around. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding, running your hand through your hair as you spin on your heels, quickly walking down the hallway.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you breeze past his bedroom, hearing him rustle around. You were good at many things and feared almost nothing – but you held this fear near and dear to your heart. You hated being alone, and you were scared of ending up alone forever.

You're as human as they come.

You skirt into your room, quickly closing the door behind you and closing the open shutters of your window. You light the lamp on one of the nightstands, stripping quickly before ripping your duvet off and wrapping yourself in it. Sitting on the bed, you scoot up all the way until you're practically sitting on your pillows, and bring your knees to your chest.

It's time to learn to be alone.

Seungkwan can't sleep.

He's been laying in his bed for what feels like hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. 

He sighs, knowing that your absence is taking a toll on him. He felt bad about everything that has happened throughout the day, but he can't bring himself to admit that to you. He can't bring himself to say sorry about speaking to you the way he did earlier, or making you eat alone, though it wasn't his intention. He just assumed you'd want to be alone, but his heart sank when he saw the teacup you'd left him, so warm and sweet and everything you were that he couldn't have.

Groaning, he kicks the covers off, grabbing his robe off the bedpost and wrapping it around himself. He slides out of bed, walking to his door and yanks it open, letting it go as he takes the sharp turn down the hall to your bedroom. He can see the glow from the lamp under the door, and he wonders if he should knock.

He decides against it, choosing to open it slowly. He sees you curled up against the wall, your eyes half closed when he clears his throat. You jump, eyes filled with panic when you finally see him. He bites back his laugh as you scowl, walking towards your bed. He kneels on it, tugging the corner of your duvet over your shoulder. 

"How are you holding up here?" He asks, and you frown as you turn away from him, screwing your eyes shut. "I'm fine." "You're sitting on your pillows, angel." He tuts, making you groan. "Go away, Seungkwan." "And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to move to my room." He sighs, and you peel one eye open, looking him up and down. "As if you'd spare me." "Contrary to popular belief, I was going to do so." He says pointedly, and you turn to face him. Your cheek is lined with the rough pattern on the wall, making his heart ache. He felt awful that you were forcing yourself in here, and he clicked his tongue.

"Come on. You're not faring well in here, it seems. It's only just that I spare you this one time." Rolling his eyes, he ignores your small smile. "This one time, he says. What a just and fair god." "Shut up." He stands upright, and he hears you sigh as he turns away. "I'm sorry about earlier, Seungkwan."

He stills, hearing you clear your throat. "I said one thing and did another, that wasn't fair of me. I shouldn't have said anything about what transpired this morning–" "You're a human, Y/N. I'd be foolish to fully trust your word, you know that, right?" He interrupts, and you're silent. He peers over his shoulder, seeing your eyes narrowed as you slip off the bed, keeping the duvet wrapped around you as you shove your way out of the bedroom.

He sighs, putting out your lamp before following suit. You're already in his bedroom by the time he reaches the door, and you're laying on the very edge of the bed. As far as you could be without being on the floor, and as close as you could be to another being so as to not be alone.

He shakes his head, closing the door behind him. Slipping his robe off, he slides into the bed. His stomach is far more at ease having you at arm's length, being able to just barely make out your frame from under your layered duvets.

"Goodnight, Seungkwan." You mutter, and he turns onto his side. "Goodnight, angel."

SIX.

You didn't sleep very well, you weren't going to lie to yourself.

It was like you were on the verge of falling asleep, but it just never happened. You could feel your body more sluggish than you'd felt the past few mornings. However, today, you were once more graced by Seungkwan pressed to your back. The sun wasn't up, the sky gloomy as you turned in his hold. His eyes were closed, but he was so close you could count his eyelashes. You stared at him tiredly, before you heard him speak. "You're staring awfully hard." "I can't sleep." You mutter back, and his eyes remain closed as he nods. "Mmh. Would you like to stay in the bedroom today? It smells like rain."

"You can smell rain?" You ask, and he shrugs. "Some days it's stronger than others, the smell. It's like wet Earth and whatnot." 

You nod, though he can't see you. Sighing, you close your eyes again, hoping you'll fall asleep at the proximity between you two. You weren't going to lie to yourself, he brought you a comfort you couldn't quite place. Like he could judge but he won't, like he could leave, but he won't. 

"Do you need anything to help you sleep? I know humans can be fussy if they don't get enough rest." He murmurs, and you peel open one eye to look at him. His eyes are still closed, as if he's also trying to will himself to sleep. You don't reply, hoping he'll use some stupid godly power to read your mind.

"Y/N, closed mouths don't get fed." He reminds you, and you groan. "Fine, fine. Can you just…hold me?" "Hold you?" He repeats, and you shift next to him. He sighs, before carefully draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer into him. His fingers are cool against your back, tracing circles into your skin as you nestle into the crook of his neck. "Better?" "Mhm." You hum into his skin, before feeling his lips press to your hairline. It's quick, and so light you almost missed it. "What's that for?" "For yesterday." He mumbles back, before settling again. You brush it off, choosing to relax in his embrace as his breathing slows. He's fallen back asleep, presumably only awoken by your movement.

You must've fallen asleep as well at some point, because a crack of thunder startles you awake. Pressing a hand to your chest, you look up to see Seungkwan staring behind you, seemingly lost in thought as his fingers continue to trace shapes into your back. Your leg is now draped over his hip, and he's holding himself up on his elbow.

"Seungkwan?" His eyes dart down to you, before a look of concern takes over. "Hm? Are you okay?" "Yeah." You nod, and he gives you a curt nod back, before returning to his spacing out. You don't have it in you to tell him you're overheating, so you just settle back in. "Are you okay? What are you looking at?" 

"Nothing. I'm just waiting for you." He shrugs, and you tilt your head at him. "For what?" "You ask a lot of questions, threadling."

"You avoid them a lot."

He raises his brow at your quip, before splaying his fingers across your hip, giving it a soft squeeze. "I didn't want to disturb your rest. If I get up, you'll wake up. Then everything after is a domino effect." You stare up at him, your eyes tracing his features. Round eyes, soft lips. Lips that let painful things slip, only to be soothed by other things tumbling out. Eyes that held truths, that held fire and held want. A wanton yearning to be loved.

"You're staring, angel." "You're pretty." You shrug, and he rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the way his ears tinge pink as he sighs. "Well, you're up. Let's get a move on, the day is full of opportunity."

He looks down at you, eyes narrowing as they fall to your shoulder. You hadn't noticed the bruise that bloomed from your fall yesterday, and he moves your hair out of the way gently. His fingers grazed the welted spot, "What happened here?" "Oh, I fell off the bed when Jeonghan appeared yesterday." You look down at it, his brows furrowed. "Does it hurt?" "I'm sure it will if you press on it." You roll your eyes, and he frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Why would I? You were mean to me yesterday." You scoff, making him return the noise of disdain. "You started it!" "Let's not play the blame game. Clearly one of us should be the one who leads here and you're not doing a very good job of it." Shaking your head, you hear him groan above you. 

"Fine. It wasn't my intention to treat you poorly yesterday, and I will try my best to not have it happen again. Is that what you wanted to hear?" You frown at him, your lip jutted out just slightly. "You can't just say sorry?" Your eyes lock with his for a second, scanning each other. He wants to, you can tell, he wants to apologize. He wants to make it up to you, but pride is a far stronger power than any remorse in the air. His hand gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear, fingers lingering on your cheek.

"Don't pout, it's not a good look on you." He presses his lips to your forehead, before pulling away and throwing the duvet off the both of you. You huff, watching as he slips out of bed and grabs his robe from the bedpost. He pulls it on swiftly, and you roll onto your back stretching your arms over your head before pushing the duvet further off your body. You're sure it's well past noon at this point.

You hear Seungkwan click his tongue, and you look up to see him standing at the window, leaning on the window sill. He's scanning the vast gardens, likely trying to plan for yet another day of rain. You slide out of bed, crossing your arms over your bare chest as you walk over to look with him.

"Wonder what's got Seungcheol in a mood." You murmur, seeing the flooded pond towards the edge of the garden. A frog hops into the flowers, and Seungkwan shrugs. "Sometimes he just likes to make it rain. Anything to get his name in someone's mouth." You snort, and he smiles inwardly.

"If the rain lets up this week, we can go to the market. I need to find out if my leathersmith can make shoes for you, and I don't think Chan brought the yarn for you, did he?" He peers up at you, and you sigh, shaking your head. "I don't mind waiting, though. I can find something else to do." "Like washing the windows that you forgot about yesterday?" He says pointedly, and you scoff out a laugh. "Way to be subtle." He smiles widely, reaching to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. You oblige, allowing him to move you in front of him. "It's pretty, though, isn't it? The rain?" "It's dreary sometimes. I think of it more as a necessary evil." You nod, feeling his chin rest gently on your shoulder. "It brings things to life but it also drowns out any happiness I have for the day. The lack of sunshine makes me depressed." "I heard that, yeah. Something about mortals not faring well during the colder months, because there's no sun." He nods, and you feel his hands wrap around your waist, clasping together over your navel. "I assume it's just that same darkness, right? It's like, desperation." "It just makes me sad. There's a lack of life, in my opinion." You twist to look at him, seeing him close his eyes. "I agree, there's something missing when the days get shorter. I lose a lot of motivation." Your eyes widen at his admission, but you don't get a chance to expand on it before feeling his lips plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. "You should get dressed, we haven't eaten anything yet."

He makes no move to let you go, instead choosing to trail his lips along your skin before reaching the thin gold chain he'd given you a few days earlier. "Seungkwan…" "Mmh?" He tugs at it with his teeth, before nipping at your neck softly. You jolt in his hold, your skin littering with goosebumps at the contact of his teeth. Shivering, you twist further in his hold, feeling his hands move up from where they were clasped. The pads of his fingers ghost over the bottom of your breasts, and you feel your entire face heat as he speaks into your skin. "Face forward."

You huff, but move to look back out the window. Your eyes try to focus on the garden when you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, before his large hands begin palming gently. The cool metal of his jewelry against your hardened nubs makes you shiver, and you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shaky breath.

"Sensitive here?" He breathes against your skin, pinching your nipples gently as you let out a low, choked whine. His teeth tug at your earlobe, making you jolt before you hear him speak again. "Eyes open, angel." "You're horrible." You mutter, feeling his lips curve against the shell of your ear. "I can stop." "No! Don't, please." Your head hangs a bit, burning in humiliation as a soft chuckle sounds behind you. It seems you don't know how to shut your mouth, because the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Please touch me." "How can I deny you when you're so polite?" He's mocking you, and you feel the warmth of his right hand leave your chest, ghosting down your torso. "Where, angel? Here?" His hand rests on your stomach, making you shake your head frantically, taking his wrist in your hand and guiding him lower.

"Here." You feel almost embarrassed as you feel him rest his forehead against your shoulder, before his fingers slowly glide over your center, his middle landing a teasing tap to your clit. You jerk slightly, making him laugh behind you before he moves further, dragging his fingertips through your wet folds with ease. You feel frustration grow slightly in your belly as he teases you, before he removes his hand completely.

You scoff, about to complain when you see him hold his hand up to the light. His fingers are slick with your arousal, strings of it connecting his knuckles as he separates them.

"Would you look at that?" His tone is one full of mischief, before he brings his hand closer to your face. "Open." His forefinger taps your lip, and you instinctively stick your tongue out, sliding it between his fingers without a word. Your eyes flutter closed as you taste yourself on his skin, the mix something invigorating, your need to be touched by him only fueled by the heat of his eyes on your face.

"Dirty little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs as you run your tongue over one of his rings, before you kiss the metal. "I'll be whatever you want me to be." He doesn't respond, instead choosing to push you slightly against the windowsill, trailing his lips down your back. You lean forward, anticipation brewing in your belly when you feel him kneel behind you, before feeling his teeth sink lightly into your ass. You can't hold your groan in, or hide the way your hips push back. He lets go of the bitten flesh, opting to lick at the marks with a sigh. "So pretty when you're needy." His lips press to your skin in peppered kisses, before he gently spreads your legs a bit more. You oblige, leaning on your forearms across the windowsill and holding the outside edge. His hands circle your upper thighs, and he squeezes them gently as he presses a kiss to your clit. You sigh, trying not to push against him as his tongue darts out, slowly dragging through your folds. He gathers your arousal messily, pulling soft whines from your throat when he finally wraps his pouty lips around your clit, sucking lightly. Your head hangs low as sounds slip from your mouth, your fingertips turning white from how hard you're gripping the windowsill when he begins to shallowly thrust his tongue into your hole, his hand moving from your thigh to thumb at your clit.

A whimper of profanities jumble from your lips, grinding your hips against his face and hand as your thighs begin to tremble. Your knees buck a bit, Seungkwan's arms reflexively moving to wrap around your waist as he buries his tongue deeper into your cunt. He groans into you, arms tightening around you as your hips continue to push back onto him. He grunts, pushing you away from his tongue entirely.

"You know, you're not very nice." He begins, making you groan. "I'm–" You're cut off by the wet sound of his fingers teasing your entrance carefully. You feel his teeth sink into the flesh of your ass again, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly slides his fingers inside you, a low groan from your throat as he speaks. 

"You're what? A brat? A pain in my ass? Sorry, for both of those things, maybe?"

You huff at his words, "I'm sorry." He hums into your skin, his eyes trained on the way your gummy walls swallow his fingers with ease, curling them as you squirm. "Sorry for what?"

His fingers brush the spongy spot, making you jolt with a high-pitched moan. "Sorry for what, angel?" He coos, carefully keeping his slow pace as he stands, lips pressed to the skin of your neck and shoulders. 

"E-Everything." You sigh, your forehead pressed against your forearm, clenching around his fingers as he bullies them into you. "Everything, she says. What's this everything, hm?" He kisses your shoulder gently, peering over your shoulder to see your eyes screwed shut. Smiling to himself, he stills his movements, hearing you groan and peel your eyes open. "What are you sorry for?" You breathe out shakily, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as he slowly starts again. "I-I'm sorry for being a brat." "Oh, are you?" He nods, watching your hips push against his hand with a smirk. "Are you sorry for being a pain in my ass, too?" "No." You blurt, shaking your head as he snorts. "At least you're honest." "I keep you on your toes, you can't punish me f-for that." Your voice is no higher than a whisper as he moves his free hand to your face, carefully swiping away the stray hair sticking to your skin. "For the record, I don't hate you." You shake your head, eyes clouded with lust as you peer at him. "You do, though." 

He doesn't reply, opting to move his hand, now rubbing soft circles into your clit. Your legs tremble slightly at the added stimulation, whines from your throat as he begins to speak. "I don't. How could I?" He knows you'll probably forget this later, so why hold back? He presses his lips to your neck, peppering kisses there as he feels your pussy start to clamp around his fingers. 

"How could I, Y/N? I think about you all the time, you know? Fuck, you're so pretty." His teeth nip at the skin, and he feels you struggle to hold yourself up as your orgasm approaches. "Could never hate you, gorgeous. So good for me, right? Just for me." You shudder as the words hit your ears, and Seungkwan takes this as an incentive to keep going. "Wouldn't be the end of the world, would it? My pretty angel, all mine? Hm?" 

Your bitten lips part in a silent sob as you nod, your orgasm coating his fingers as your head hangs low. Seungkwan's eyes close as he presses his lips to your warm skin, unintelligible whispers slipping as he carefully withdraws his hand from between your legs. You remain silent as he slips away, before feeling a warm towel between your thighs.

"Take a bath. I'll make breakfast…or lunch, I guess now." He murmurs, tossing the towel aside and gently pulling your bruised elbows from the windowsill. You nod silently as he plants a soft kiss to your temple, before quietly guiding you to the bathroom. You feel your cheeks flush as his hand brushes your hip, pulling you close when you stumble. "Sorry." You mutter, but he only shakes his head as he pushes the bathroom door open, the sun now shining through the open window as he reaches for the faucet. He turns it on, running his fingers under the water until he deems it warm enough to help you climb into the tub.

"Any particular scent?" He asks as you settle into the cold tub, and you shake your head silently. No words are exchanged as he picks out his scent, the basil leaf in the jar mocking you as he slides it onto the rim of the tub. "Call me if you need anything, alright?" Nodding, you press your lips into a thin line as he carefully swipes your hair out of your eyes. His own are conflicted, but he nods curtly and takes his leave. 

You sigh shakily, your fingers reaching for your tense thighs as you think about his words. He'd come across the past few days as someone who didn't feel the need to prove anything to you – you were a human, someone who was virtually just a speck of dust in his universe.

Your eyes burn lightly, the tears of shame slipping down your cheeks as you groan inwardly. You certainly hadn't expected him to show you any of his feelings that way, but you weren't mad at all. You just felt…a pit of despair settle into your stomach.

Feeling like Seungkwan was out of your reach…that gap should be bridged now, right? He showed you his desire, he spoke about it. So why does he feel so much further away now?

SEVEN.

The next week and a half were the most mind-boggling thing you think you've ever experienced.

The two of you did not speak of the prior events – opting to both drown them out and keep repeating the same mistakes by enticing each other. If he wasn't waking you up with his tongue circling your clit, he was grinding his clothed cock against you in the kitchen and telling you how badly you got on his nerves. If you chose to run your mouth, he'd put it to better use – whether that meant he shoved a piece of bread into it or his cock was up for whatever the stars aligned with that day.

The past two days had been touch-free; the god was bent over his desk as you got ready to leave the temple. He'd promised you a visit to the market for new shoes as well as yarn for your loom, but he was everything but ready. He didn't move as he heard you standing in the doorway of his bedroom, your wine red skirt low on your hips as you leaned on the frame.

"Seungkwan?"

"Mmh?" He hummed, not looking up as he flipped a pen through his fingers. He heard you sigh, walking up to his desk and plucking it from his fingers. "You said we'd leave by noon. It's past that." "I did say that." He nods, reaching for his pen as you hold it out of reach. "Seungkwan."

He sighs, before finally looking up at you. His eyes widen slightly, and you look at him expectantly as he stares in silence. "Are you having a stroke?" "What?" He blinks, before shaking his head. You snort, before setting the pen on the desk. "Are you having a stroke? You've been odd all day."

Has he? He thinks back – bath, breakfast, a bit of time in the garden with you while he tried to teach you how to prune the marigolds…emphasis on tried.

"No. I'm fine. You look…nice. Ready?" He clears his throat, watching as you carefully slip your hair over your shoulder. You look exactly the same as you have since you arrived, but…something feels different. You feel different.

Could explain the absolute heat in his chest when he woke up to your face these past few days. And why he couldn't bear to look at you any longer than a simple conversation, he notes, as his eyes divert back to the philosophy book on his desk.

"Well…come on? I'm hungry and the walk is long." You smile, before turning on your heel. Seungkwan takes a deep breath, before standing and trailing after you. Neither of you stop to gather any bites for the road, but he can't unglue his eyes from the soft swing of your hips. 

Get it together. He shakes it off, opting to look away as you trek down the steps of the temple. "We can get new shoes for you today, I know I said we'd touch base on that." "We did!" You stretch in the afternoon sun, the light hitting your supple skin perfectly. Skin he longs to run his fingers down, sink his teeth into, kiss raw–

"Do you think they'll have yarn like my father's?" You ask, waiting for him to catch up to you. You link your arms once he does, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly as you slip your fingers in his. "I really liked the dyed yarns we'd get from Olympus. Lydia was always very barren for wool and such." He listens to you talk about your father for a while, as he subconsciously guides the two of you through the two-hour walk to the market. Why hasn't he gotten a horse? Why is he making you walk two hours, when you could be rambling about your memories upon a noble steed? He makes it a mental note as the twinkling lights of the market come into view. You stop talking and gasp lightly, your fingers squeezing his as you look over the treetops to the gaggle of tents and life. You smile inwardly, excitedly pulling him closer as you walk quickly. His cheeks burn as you finally reach the entrance of the market, a few bystanders looking at you as your eyes widen.

"Wow. It's beautiful here." You murmur, your eyes scanning the glittering of gold jewelry at the green tent he'd bought your necklace at. He lets you pull him carefully through the sweaty bodies, your eyes wide as you take in all the colors and glitters and the way you instinctively float over to a pair of slender shoulders hunched over a tent of yarns and wool.

The vendor looked up quickly, her smile bright as she saw you scour everything excitedly. You pulled your fingers out of Seungkwan's hand, leaving the god to stand a distance behind you as you ran the pads of your fingers across all the wool she had displayed. There were beautifully dyed yarns – from deep, earthy greens to royal purples, you carefully collected a few as the vendor showed you sample after sample.

"What do you think of this one?" Your voice brought Seungkwan back to Earth, his eyes landing on a soft, ocean blue yarn dyed lightly with indigo. You bounced the material in your palms, rattling off ideas of what you could weave with it when Seungkwan interrupts you.

"Get whatever you want, threadling. I've got it." Seungkwan pats his pouch, thankful he remembered to snag it off the desk before the two of you left the temple. In the glowing twinkle lights of the market, Seungkwan can almost make out a blush on your cheeks as you quickly whip around to look back at the vendor with a shy smile.

It wasn't long before you held a bag full of yarn, Seungkwan silently digging into his pouch for gold coins to give to the vendor. He took the bag gingerly, before you absently looped your arm with his as you bid the vendor a good evening. Your fingertips were cool against his, but he welcomed it as he squeezed them gently.

Seungkwan couldn't help but admire you under the twinkling lights and low sun. Your skin glowed slightly, the bruise on your shoulder from Jeonghan's visit now yellow with time. Your white top wrapped tightly across your chest, worn sandals guiding you through the people who began to gather around the jewelry tents.

His chest feels tight at the idea of falling in love with you under this romanticized perspective.

"Did you ever come here with your father?" Seungkwan asks softly, and you frown slightly, shaking your head. "My father was much too old to make the journey here. Our markets were further south, but it was mostly fish and fruit. I often went alone to gather our weekly rations. My mother…she was good friends with Taeyeon. I'm sure you know her, right? The goddess of harvest?" Seungkwan nods, "I do. She ventures into these parts every so often."

Smiling, you slow down and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk through the dusty market. Your gaze falls upon tasty treats and wide-eyed children holding sugared apples, and you find yourself leading Seungkwan over. "Are you hungry?" "I'm alright. Would you like something?" Seungkwan shifts in your hold, watching the vendor carefully peel an orange off its pith. You nod, pointing at the scrawled menu. "Have you ever had candied orange peel?" "Have you?" He snorts, looking at the jarred delicacy. He watched as your hands ghosted over a custard sitting on a bed of ice, before the vendor stood quickly, orange in hand as she pushed her partner away from the boiling sugar above the fire. "No, but I've also never really had desserts. My father was very strict about sweet things at night." Seungkwan nods as he watches the vendor shakily shove the slices onto a wooden skewer, before carefully coating them in the hot sugar. His fingers squeeze yours as she dips them into a bucket of ice water, the sizzle of the sugar making the water pop over the edge. She holds it up and out to you, a pointed look in her eyes.

"Take it." Seungkwan encourages, and you shyly reach out for it. She gives you a napkin, before mumbling to wait a bit to eat it. Seungkwan offers her money, but she shakes her head. "I haven't seen a pair of lovers in a while, just enjoy it." Seungkwan hates the way his entire body heats at the idea of being your lover, but you're not faring much better – your smile is shy as you nod, letting your hair fall into your eyes as you look away. The tips of your ears are flushed as you ask her for a jar of the candied peels, which she simply shoves into your hand. "On the house. Or on the tent, I guess." You pull Seungkwan away with yet another thank you from your lips, when Seungkwan's eyes catch the leathersmith beginning to set up shop. "Wait, you need new shoes. Let's go this way." You oblige, allowing the god to tug you carefully. The leathersmith was an older man who had his son along as an apprentice, aiming to have the younger man take over the shop once he passed on. Seungkwan had quite the hearty relationship with the older gentleman, but often found a small taste of disdain in his mouth after speaking to his son. He was young and a bit snobby, ungrateful – a few of the traits Seungkwan deemed unattractive.

"Oh, Seungkwan! I haven't seen you in quite a while. How are you? And who is this beautiful young woman? I'm Mr. Kim." The leathersmith took his hat off quickly, offering his hand for you to shake. You did so cheerily, as the older man smiled at you.

"I'm Y/N. I'm a…pupil of Seungkwan's." You say with a bit of hesitance, but Seungkwan's fingers squeeze yours in confirmation. You were, after all…just a pupil. Someone he's not supposed to have feelings for, he reminds himself.

Mr. Kim quickly gestures to his son, who is setting up the machinery. His hands are coated in oil from it, and Seungkwan feels his stomach turn at the idea of his fingers smearing it over your skin when they measure you. He'll have to wash your feet for you when you arrive home–

No? He won't?

"This is my son, you remember him, right? Jisung, say hello." The son glances up with a look of discernment, before Seungkwan notices his eyes land on you. You've begun to nibble onto the candied orange slices, licking your lips of bits of sugar. Seungwan instinctively pulls you closer, before the leathersmith looks at the god as he speaks. "Yes, I do. How're you, Jisung? Taking well after your father, I assume?" The younger man barely acknowledges him, his eyes still on you as you glance around all the leather scraps. There are a few different patterns on the soles of pre-cut shoes, and Seungkwan feels you pull away to run your fingers through the intricate designs. Stars, small waves, dainty paisley. There is a pair with flowers that stop at the arch of the shoe, and you hold it up.

"These?" Your eyes are a little brighter as you hold the candied oranges in your teeth, tracing the pattern with your bruised fingertips. Seungkwan smiles, starting to speak when Jisung cuts him off. "You have to get fitted and come back, we can't just give you pre-made soles." Seungkwan feels his lips tug down as Jisung takes the sole from you, and you nod carefully. "You could be nicer about it, you know. I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate you treating his prospective clients with this attitude." Mr. Kim's eyes widen as his son scoffs, a quick flush overtaking his cheeks and ears as Jisung tosses the pre-made soles back into the bucket. He clears his throat as you turn away from Jisung with a frown full of disdain, before speaking up. "I assume you are here for shoes, right? What soles did you want?"

You shake your head and shrug. "Whatever you can make for me, I'll take it. I would hate to cause you any trouble, Mr. Kim."

It's clearly a jab at his son, but if he notices, he says nothing. The older gentleman rounds the chair he's had set up and fishes through the bucket for the soles you'd had in your hand. "These, right? They're marigolds." He taps the sole with his knuckle, before patting the chair with his hand.

"Sit, I'll fit them for you. They're pre-made for a reason, emergencies. Your straps are about to fall apart, dear." He grimaces at your sandals, and you feel a soft blush coat your cheeks. "Well, they've been through a lot with me." Seungkwan watches as you carefully take Mr. Kim's hand to sit atop the lifted chair, and as he carefully takes your sandals off. Your feet are slightly swollen from the walk to the market, and he nearly misses the way Jisung takes Mr. Kim's spot in front of you. He spreads his thighs over the edge of the stool, his hand grabbing your ankle out of the stirrup and examining your foot. He grimaces as he runs his fingers over the carmine-covered toenails, carefully tugging on your toes to make your joints pop.

It all felt too intimate for Seungkwan's taste, but he tongues his cheek as Mr. Kim starts digging through his bucket of leather straps.

"Do you want braided straps? I have a few of those, I think they'd suit you." Mr. Kim speaks as Jisung runs a wet sponge down the arch of your foot, making Seungkwan grimace inwardly. Your eyes flutter closed at the cool water dripping along your skin, Jisung's hands carefully massaging the sore arch. You don't respond, so Seungkwan nods in Mr. Kim's direction with a forced smile.

"Feel good?" Jisung's voice breaks through the air, and Seungkwan doesn't like the way his stomach tightens as your nose scrunches, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot. "Feels nice, yeah. We walked the entire way here." "Did you, now?" Jisung glances over his shoulder, and it's as if the shared horse for the father-son duo picks up on his commentary, whinnying behind the tent. Seungkwan frowns, "She asked to." "So you just do whatever she wants?" Jisung asks lowly, and Mr. Kim holds up a matching pair of fishtailed straps. "Aha!" Jisung gives Seungkwan a sour look as he carefully wipes your foot of excess water and dirt, leaving the god to cross his arms over his chest while holding your bag of yarn. You're trying to focus on the candied oranges in your hand, carefully biting at the sweet flesh when Jisung swipes the wet sponge across your other foot, holding it up to his face as he examines your toes. "Walk barefoot a lot?" "Well–" "Pretty girls like you shouldn't be doing that." He tugs at your toes, popping the joints in this foot as well before squeezing gently. "What kind of a god are you, letting her walk around in old shoes? Don't you care?"

Your eyes are wide as he speaks directly to Seungkwan, who only scowls. "Isn't it inappropriate to compliment your clients? Just do what you're here to do, I can take care of her on my own." "Seems like you can't, if she's walking here and wearing old shoes." Jisung barks back, and you shift uncomfortably. Seungkwan can tell you're starting to pick up on his disdain for the younger man, who only digs his fingers into the flesh of your calf. Seungkwan doesn't respond, opting to move over to Mr. Kim, who is hunched over his workbench. He's carefully piercing the leather with a thick needle, his fingers covered in makeshift thimbles as he holds the leather in shaky hands. Seungkwan doesn't let your conversation with Jisung leave his mind as he eavesdrops, Jisung asking you where you're from and if you're single. You just answer with a disinterested tone, something that makes Seungkwan smile inwardly as Mr. Kim holds the shoe up. 

"Think they'll fit?" He asks, needle tucked between his lips as Seungkwan examines it, nodding carefully. "If they're a little big it's fine too, she's on her feet a lot." No you weren't. You hadn't done anything in the temple but lay in his bed with him and prune flowers. He stopped making you step into the kitchen, last week allowing you to simply exist within the temple and the gardens. You enjoyed dipping your feet into the pond, and grabbing the frogs in your palms as they croaked quietly.

There hadn't been a single drop of rain since he had you against the windowsill in his bedroom. Almost as though Seungcheol was listening, and eerily enough, maybe even watching. 

Seungkwan took the time to tend the garden when he wasn't riling you up in whatever form he could. He hated that he was starting to enjoy the way you poked at him, wanting to elicit a reaction out of him, yearning for the way his hands would grip you firmly if he was pushing you against any surface he could manage.

Yet, your lips still have yet to graze in the way you beg for constantly. He'll kiss you anywhere you ask, anywhere you want – but your lips remain untouched, bitten by your own teeth, glossed by your own spit and calling his name out wantonly. 

How he yearns to shut you up that way sometimes.

"How is it, having a new pupil? You haven't had one in a while." Mr. Kim asks as Seungkwan's eyes trailed the way Jisung's hands go up a little too high on your knee. You frown a bit, your lips pursed as you push it down. He apologizes swiftly, a twitch in his lip as you cross your legs at the ankle. You both continue the odd conversation, with Jisung questioning your attire. You answer that Seungkwan made it for you, and isn't it so pretty?

Jisung glances over his shoulder before scoffing out a yeah.

"It's fine. She's very smart and quick witted, and keeps me on my toes." Seungkwan nods, watching you and Jisung out of the corner of his eye. Jisung is now massaging your feet with a salve, likely one from the apothecary two tents down. It smells of eucalyptus, a scent Seungkwan noticed you avoided in the shampoo shelf – the citrus basil disappearing much faster. Your nose scrunched once more as he wrapped your feet in warm towels from a basket, before your eyes met Seungkwan's.

You blink at him, tilting your head towards Jisung before making a face of annoyance. He huffs out a small laugh, earning a smile from you as you return your attention to the younger man in front of you. You ask Jisung if he always does this for his customers, and he snorts in response as he tucks the towel corner under your ankle with a resounding no.

"She's very pretty, Seungkwan." Mr. Kim pipes up from his workbench, and Seungkwan's eyes dart to the older man. He's giving the god a pointed look, watching as Seungkwan shifts silently before letting out a sigh. "I'm not ready, Mr. Kim." "We never are, when the right one comes along." He murmurs, and he looks up to ensure you can't hear him before he proceeds. "What's stopping you? The fact that she's a human?" "Somewhat." He shrugs, opting to leave out the extensive story of your past – how he sent you to the Underworld within hours of meeting you, how you made him feel vulnerable in a way he hated. How you made him feel like putty with your hands, your mouth, your words of praise and reassurance as you trailed your lips anywhere he'd let you. 

He remembers telling you how greedy you were as he nipped at your neck three nights ago, your incessant whining for a kiss on the lips only making him slow the rut of his hips against your clothed core. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, mouthing at his jaw with whimpers from your throat as he palmed at your body beneath him. "So, so greedy. Can never just take what I give you, hm? Always want more."

"What else?" Mr. Kim asks, and Seungkwan rubs his neck lightly, a worried smile on his lips as he admits defeat. "I just know that it won't work. She's a mortal, it won't be good for either of us. One day, she'll be gone and I'll still be left here." "Isn't the purpose of life to find something that fulfills you?" Mr. Kim objects, raising his brows at the god before him. "If she makes you feel happy, and you feel fulfilled making her feel loved, cherished, whatever the case may be – shouldn't that be enough for you to take it and run like the wind? Love is something so fickle, something so hard to find yet so easy to ruin. Don't let your doubts ruin what you and Miss Y/N have. You yearn for her, Seungkwan." "I do not." He scoffs, glancing at you as Jisung removes the now cool towels, your eyes closed as he wipes away the salve that went unabsorbed. Mr. Kim only smiles in response as he hands Seungkwan the shoes, the leather warm against his fingertips. "Just think about it, Seungkwan. It can't do any harm." Except it can, he thinks.

Seungkwan is selfish. He'd always been that way – wanting only the best for himself, opting to choose the better routes, the better classes, the better books. Carefully selecting anyone and everyone he allowed into his hermit-like life, his secretive ways.

He only wanted the best, and he fears that if he doesn't figure himself out soon, you'll be the only best he sees slip through his fingers. He knows that you're good – he knows that your heart is so painfully fragile, wrapped in layers of hurt from losing your father and missing out on the last years of his life. He knows that you're trying so hard to keep up the same facade that he is – that you're stronger than you let on, that you're braver, that you're better.

He's only a god because Seungcheol said so, he's no different than you are.

He figured that a few nights ago, watching you sleep against his chest. Your cheek was squished against his shoulder, your lips glistening with a bit of drool. He wanted to kiss you so deeply then, his fingers carefully carding through your tangled hair and tugging at the necklace he'd given you. You'd stirred slightly, barely opening your eyes to peer up at him. He smiled silently, making you grunt softly before snuggling back into his skin.

It's odd, he realizes. How easily just a taste of you, just one moment of his walls being down, led from angry, bitter words to playful banter and dirty phrases whispered into sweaty skin. How in just a few days, you carefully removed layers from his guarded heart, desperately wanting to earn a spot in it. And…he just let you. He just let you call him pretty, he just let you kiss his worries away. He let you toe the line of the boundaries he'd set in place, your lips just barely hovering over his when he'd let you take the lead, your skirt bunched around your hips as you both relished in the wet sound of your cunt dragging against his bare thighs.

He just let you prove to him, over the course of a few nights, that you desired him…but deeper than anyone ever had. You cared nothing about his presence as a god, in fact, you challenged it – you poked and prodded, you pissed him off with your carefully chosen words and you mended him back together just as quickly. You jerked his emotions around, riling him up by touching him inappropriately for a pupil, but he gave in so fast. He loved it, he loved how you felt against him, he loved you.

And it pains him inside.

"Let me see the shoes." Jisung breaks Seungkwan out of his thoughts, and he reluctantly hands them over to the younger man. Seungkwan fishes in his pouch for money, placing fifteen gold coins in Mr. Kim's change cup. Ten more than the leathersmith often charged, but Seungkwan paid him no mind as he watched Jisung carefully slide the sandals over your feet. 

Too. Intimate.

He carefully wrapped the straps around your ankle, the pads of his fingers lingering before Seungkwan cleared his throat loudly. Your eyes dart to the god, who has a frown on his lips as he offers his hand for you to step off the chair. The sun was slightly lower now, meaning it would be time to start heading home soon. You take Seungkwan's hand gingerly, carefully stepping down as your other hand presses against his chest for extra support.

"How d'you feel, Miss?" Mr. Kim asks as you bounce on your toes, and you seem content as you give him a warm smile and a thumbs up. You seem happy with them, but Seungkwan doesn't miss the way your eyes trail to the worn sandals you'd previously donned. They held history, they'd taken you wherever you'd been and seen everything you had. Seungkwan understands as he gathers them in his hand carefully, holding them out to Mr. Kim. "Can you refresh these? Is that possible?" 

Your eyes grow wide before they're squished by the fat of your cheeks as you smile, now wrapping your arms around Seungkwan's as Mr. Kim nods eagerly. "Return within a fortnight, I'll have them as good as new." Seungkwan nods, before pouring a few more coins into the change cup and bidding his goodbye. Mr. Kim gives him yet another pointed look, before looking at you. His eyes speak volumes – volumes of kiss her, of hold her, of love her.

Seungkwan nods curtly, before spinning on his heel and pulling you away.

"It'll be chilly soon. Would you like to get a blanket for the walk back?" He asks quietly, and you nod eagerly. "Maybe also, something else to eat? The candied orange was good but…I'm not full yet." Seungkwan glances over at you, seeing a bit of sugar crystals gathered at the corners of your lips. He smiles to himself, wiping his thumb against the skin carefully. You look at him as he licks the sugar off the pad of his finger, an amused look in your eyes as you shake your head. "If you wanted some of it, you could've said so." Seungkwan only smiles to himself, holding you close as he pulls you behind a tent. Your eyes scan his face as he carefully moves your hair away from your face. "I'm sure you still have some left, right?" "I finished it. See?" You hold up the empty skewer, your eyes innocently scouring him as he feels his chest warm. He takes it out of your hand, tossing it into a tent's garbage bin. "But you can give me a taste anyhow, can't you?" Your eyes cast confusion until his lips ghost over yours. "Didn't like how he was touching you." He murmurs, just barely touching your skin. "M'sorry." You mumble back, nuzzling your nose against his. 

"Are you?" He asks, pulling away slightly. Your cheeks are ruddy with embarrassment under his hands, his thumbs carefully pinching the fat. Your hands rest on his chest as he carefully takes your jaw in his large hand, the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin making you jolt. "Didn't like it. Only want you to touch me like that." You admit softly, your hands bunching the fabric of his chiton under them. He smiles, "Only me?" "Only you." You nod, and he hums in response. His thumb moves to pull at your plump lower lip, and he sighs as he moves back. "Well, we should start heading back. We can make it back before sundown, and it won't be as chilly." You look disappointed as he pulls back, your hands still holding onto his chiton as he does so. Your lip is jutted out into a pout, "Come on, Seungkwan." He bites back a laugh, opting to act dumb as he turns back to you. "Come on, what, Y/N?" "Kiss me." You frown, tugging his shirt gently until he's lowered enough to touch your nose to his. He lets you pull at him, his hands snaking around your waist. "Hm? Not sure you've earned that, angel." "You're so mean." You pout, your lower lip brushing his. He nips at it quickly, tugging it between his teeth as your eyes shutter closed. "Mean? You think so?"

He doesn't let you reply, pressing his lips against yours gently. He feels you sigh into his mouth, your hands moving up to his neck, arms gingerly wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands hold your hips, squeezing them softly as he pulls you closer to him. His tongue gently eases into your mouth, tasting the sweet tang of the orange against your teeth. Your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, licking into his mouth with precision, trying to hide your desperation as you claw at him. He pulls away carefully, his tongue swiping across his lips as your eyes open.

"Why'd you stop?" You whine, only prompting him to press one, two, three chaste kisses to your open mouth. "Because we're in public, and if you want more, we have to get home, angel." "You'll give me more?" "I'll give you whatever you want." He nods, his forehead touching yours. "Promise?" Your voice is small, but he smiles, pulling you into his chest. "I promise, angel."

The trip home was full of soft touches and his fingers pinching any skin he could manage. He pressed his lips against yours more than twice on the way there, the thick blanket he'd bought you draped carefully over your shoulders as he held your bag of yarn and candied orange peels. Your hand held a small bag of roasted chickpeas, the only other snack you bothered to pick out after Seungkwan kissed you. You suddenly weren't hungry for food, only the white-hot feeling of his lips against yours. You didn't talk as you walked home tiredly, only looked at the sky and at the straps of your new sandals.

"Let me run you a bath, angel." He offers as the temple comes into view, and you look up hesitantly. "Join me for it."

"Hmm. Maybe." He shrugs, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and carefully wrapping around it. It's comforting, the weight of his warmth against your skin as he pulls you closer to him. You allow it, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you reach the steps of the temple. The wind-down is easy. It's simple, he strips you of your clothing in his bedroom as he kisses you gently, his lips sweet against yours. Soft hums of approval as he felt your hands touch him as much as he'd allow, before guiding you down to the bathroom. He lets you tug off his chiton, his pants following as he holds you flush to him as he runs his fingers under the running water. 

And, he promptly joined you in the tub. Your back was nestled closely against his chest, his fingers wrapped around your hand and lips peppering kisses to your knuckles. Your hair had long been cleaned, his shampoo wafting off you as the warm suds surrounded your naked bodies. This…you'd read about this. Lovers, so close together. Lovers, holding each other dear, cherishing each other, worshiping each other.

Seungkwan's lips against your shoulders tear you from your thoughts, making you twist your head to peer at him. You wonder what's changed between the two of you. You know Seungkwan has kissed other mortals, done things he's done with you with other mortals. Why are you any different? Why is the taste of you any different, anything more than what he's had before?

And most of all, why does it weigh on you? Who cares about the other girls, as long as you get the guy?

You huff inwardly, toying with the suds at the edge of the tub.

"Closed mouths don't get fed, Y/N." His voice rings in your ears, the low rumble startling you slightly. He gives you a pointed look, his eyes sharp as he scans your features. "Sorry. Just thinking." "About?" He questions, his arms moving to wrap around your waist beneath the water. You shake your head lightly, leaning against his clavicle with a sigh. "Just everything and nothing, all at once." He doesn't press the issue. If he senses something is wrong, he says nothing. He instead runs his hands up your torso, pads of his fingers tickling your skin. "I really enjoyed spending time with you, today." He admits softly. You feel your cheeks heat as you look back at him again.

"Really?" "Really. I know we were late, we can go back another time and go as early as you'd like." He nods, and you smile widely as you nod in excitement. He smiles, his thumb moving to stroke your cheeks gently. "Let me take you to bed, yeah? It's late, we have a lot to do tomorrow." "You always say that, then you leave me wrapped in the duvet all morning and hand-feed me breakfast." You roll your eyes, making Seungkwan snort. "I can make life a lot harder, if you'd like." 

"No, don't do that." You feign a pout as you twist in his hold, opting to straddle his lap under the warm water. He looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs. "Tread lightly, angel." "I'm not doing anything." You smile down at him, opting to run your hands through his damp hair. He tongues his cheek. "You're always up to no good." "Just miss you." You murmur, pressing your forehead against his. He hums in response, pressing yet another chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. "Let me take you to bed." He repeats, voice raspier than before. You nod, before planting your lips against his without second thought. He allows it, kissing you back slowly as his arms wrap around your waist. 

"Come on." Once more, the night is smooth. You notice a few clouds gathering in the distance as Seungkwan wraps you carefully in a towel, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as the two of you trek to his bedroom. You hadn't slept in your own since that one night, with Seungkwan guiding you himself so as to not lose you in the dark.

You hated the way your stomach turned as you reached the bedroom and the clouds seemed closer, hoping it meant nothing. Hoping that you'd get to have this soft side of Seungkwan for longer, hoping that Seungcheol's mind games were just his own problems seeping through in the form of rolling thunder and bright lightning.

"Smells like rain." Seungkwan murmured as he dried your hair carefully with another towel, your eyes closed as you inhaled deeply. "It does." Neither of you say anything else as you close the window tightly, placing towels on the ground should the forthcoming rain leak through. You slide under the covers as Seungkwan lights a lamp on his desk, burning slowly before he slides in next to you. He holds you close this time, instead of leaving you at arm's length.

"Goodnight, angel." "Goodnight, Seungkwan."

You try to ignore the clap of thunder in the sky as you snuggle into his chest, your cheek once more squished against his shoulder as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline. His own heart is thundering against his chest, and you can only hope it's because he fears the same thing you do.

Fighting once the night has passed, and the rain continues to pelt the wet Earth – and your blooming relationship alongside it.

EIGHT.

It has been six days since you and Seungkwan have been intimate at all, and there has been endless rain. He hasn't spoken much to you as it is, instead finding his way outside or busying himself in his bedroom – with his door closed. Your cheeks burn in humiliation when he closes the door behind him before bed, leaving you to burn the lamps in your bedroom through all the oil they've got while you curl yourself against the sheets. He doesn't spare you these nights, leaving you to feel your eyes heavy in the mornings, often retreating back during the bright afternoons to nap.

He feels relieved when you're not around.

Your lingering touches earn his hand pushing you away, the confusion in your eyes remaining unanswered as he pushes past you in the mornings. He won't look at you, he won't kiss you, he won't speak unless you speak first. He'll slide breakfast onto your nightstand and disappear for hours once you've awoken, his shoulders hidden behind bushes of flowers and tall trees in his garden. He silently washes the dishes, bakes countless focaccia loaves, pours your wine and runs your bath water.

He didn't join you again. You bit your tongue, hoping maybe it was just some odd rut of his. He seemed lost in thought as he rearranged flowers in clay pots left behind by former pupils as gifts, but you didn't miss the way he stiffened as he heard you behind him.

"Everything okay, Seungkwan?" You questioned softly, a gentle look on your face as you peered over his shoulder. He nods quickly, clearing his throat. "Yes. Lunch is soon, so why don't you spend some time in the bedroom? Or outside? I'll–" "Come outside with me." You suggest, before scanning his posture. "You've seemed really out of it for the last few days. It's starting to worry me." "Don't worry about me. I'm just in my head about things, I've got a lot to do." He lies like a dog, and you frown inwardly before stepping forward to stand next to him. "Come with me, Seungkwan." I miss you, lingers on your tongue, but he sighs frustratedly before his hands find your bare shoulders, turning you quickly and pushing you towards the garden doors. You try not to melt into the heat of his fingers, instead shaking them off quickly as you reach the beginning of the garden. The oak trees lining the garden tower over you, and you frown as the sky turns slightly grey at your presence. The clouds begin to roll in gently, covering the sunlight as you sigh.

"Are you upset with me?" You blurt, turning to face a rather unconfident Seungkwan. His eyes widen as he shakes his head. "Not at all. Come, we can prune the tulips–" "Seungkwan, be honest with me. I don't like this." Your confession makes his eyes dart away from your face, his hands folding in front of him as he loses purpose for them. He doesn't respond, instead tilting his head in the direction of the tulips. You tongue your cheek, before you step closer to him. His breath hitches in his throat, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look this unsteady.

"What is going on?" You murmur, your hands carefully rising to hold his face. He frowns, quickly capturing your wrists as your palms cover his cheeks. "Nothing is going on, Y/N." "Where have you gone?" Your whisper is slightly broken, your eyes full of concern for the equally ruined god in front of you. His eyes tear away from yours, nibbling his lip as you raise onto your tiptoes, moving him to face you. "I thought we were making progress here." "I don't need you to make progress in anything." He says, almost too quickly for you to believe him. Definitely too quickly for you to believe him, "You don't mean that." "I do. I do mean it, Y/N. Whatever was happening here, it can't continue. I know it must've been confusing, trust me–" You frown, cutting him off abruptly. "How can I? How can I trust you, when you've done all of this? You give me everything you've got, expressing nothing short of desire for me. You touch me in ways I haven't been since my first life, even by those I've slept with in the past. You kiss me like it means something and then you abandon me, you make me sleep alone like a dog and you don't speak to me. What twisted game are you playing? Is this the just and fair god you claim to be?"

Your anger bounces right off him, his cheeks flaming red as he sighs. 

"Y/N, this is a dangerous game. It's got nothing to do with you, or how I could or could not feel about you." His hands take yours off his face, holding your wrists tightly as if he needs them to ground him. Your eyes meet as your back hits the oak tree marking the end of the marigolds – you can see him holding back feelings of desire, and you're sure yours scream the same as the words slip from your lips.

"Then kiss me like you mean it." He groans, his grip on your wrists loosening as he pulls away. "You know I can't do that, Y/N. It's not right."

"Why? Because I'm some mortal? Because I'll never satisfy you?" You wrestle your wrists out of his grasp, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest. "Y/N–"

"Why won't you let me show you that you're just like me? Because you want to keep up this façade that you're perfect? Huh? Is that it?" You push his chest lightly, watching as the sky rolls with dark clouds in the distance and water begins to pelt the two of you. "Why won't you let me in?"

"Because." His jaw is tight as he turns away, and you grab his arm so he doesn't walk away from you, his shoulders tensing at your touch. "Because what, Seungkwan? Aren't you always spewing that you're a just and fair god? Aren't you always telling me that it's your job to guide? Well, I need some guidance here! Give me something to follow! Let me help you!" He huffs inwardly, turning back sharply and pulling you to him by your shirt, his other hand pushing your now wet hair out of your face. His eyes trail your face, and he speaks quietly.

"I can't, because you won't be here someday. I'll be left to yearn for you for the rest of my miserable eternity and I can't do that to myself. I could beg and plead with anybody who'll listen to let me have you forever, but I'd be disrupting the natural order of life. I can't kiss you, now or ever again, because you'll suffer. And I think you've had enough suffering for yet another lifetime."

Your brows furrow as you lean in closer to him, feeling his fingers quickly card through your hair and pull you back, your lips just missing his. Your eyes close at the tug, the way you know his rings will snag and you'll like it. 

"You can't tell me when I've had enough." You murmur, and he folds.

His lips slot against yours in a fiery kiss, pushing you against the tree and pulling a whimper from your throat as his teeth nip at your lips. You try to keep up, his hands choosing to roam your body, grabbing at any exposed skin they can before finding the slit of your skirt. His fingers circle your thighs carefully, bearing your weight against the rough trunk of the tree and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

"This is hard for me, too." He pulls away, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. "It doesn't have to be. Just let me in, I can help you." You plead with him, his shaky breath against your lips.

"I can't." His eyes close, his fingers tight around your thighs as your red skirt bunches higher. Your hands reach for his face again, thumbs carefully rubbing his cheeks as his eyes open to stare into yours. "Just trust me, Seungkwan." "It's not right, Y/N." He shakes his head, only for your words to come out with a bite. "You're selfish."

He huffs, nodding. "So what? I am, I am selfish. I can't imagine a fucking life without you tugging on my sleeve, is that what you want to hear? That I'd rather die an honest death than let you help me figure out something I should know on my own? I'm a god, for fuck's sake. I don't need your help, now or ever!"

"Then what the fuck are we doing? Why can't you just mentor me the way you were supposed to, huh? Why did you…" You trail off as you push him away from you, your lips pursed tightly as you fight off tears. Things are happening way too fast – but they started fast, anyway. Impatience usually makes things crumble like sand at your fingertips.

"Just…leave me alone. You don't need me, so I don't need you." You pinch the bridge of your nose, before pushing your wet hair off your face. "Don't walk away from me, we're not done here." His hand shoots out to wrap around your arm, his cool rings digging into your skin as you twist away from him. "Aren't we? You hurt me, Seungkwan. You're actively hurting me, by pushing me away. You don't care about anyone except yourself, because if you did, you would've never kissed me in the first place. You would've told Jeonghan no when he sent me here, you wouldn't have taken me in. You…you're selfish. You're selfish and you're a liar. And I hate that. I hate you!" You spit, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you turn away from him.

"I'm not like you, Seungkwan. I can't just hide how I feel, not when I wear my heart on my sleeve. You can pretend all you'd like, fake it until you make it, do whatever you please." You mumble to yourself, sniffling deeply before meeting his eyes. Eyes that have glossed over with tears he won't dare let slip, but you only sigh.

"I deserve better than this." Your lip quivers as you push past him, the rain quickly drenching your top. You shiver as you walk away, wrapping your arms around yourself to create your own warmth as you hear a roll of thunder over your head. "I fucking heard you, Seungcheol. I got it." You mutter inwardly, feeling relief as the rain stops pelting your shoulders the moment you duck into the temple.

You silently walk to the bathroom, turning the faucet on for warm water to run out as you strip off your wet clothing. Your fingers fumble with the pins, holding them between your lips as you ease yourself into the filling tub, not bothering to grab for soap. You sigh as the warmth engulfs your limbs, shivering as you sink further.

Who were you kidding, really? You knew things between a god and a mortal weren't made to last. He'd said it, you'd agreed to it, you even admitted you'd rather die than become a goddess to live alongside a god who deems himself better than you. 

But, it doesn't mean you don't know that Seungkwan is far greater than you'd be, potentially ever. He held a power you'd never know anything about, this weight on his shoulders that he admitted himself to. You knew of gods who didn't care for their particular talents, gods who boasted nothing of their importance and gods who simply lacked interest in who or what they represented. You knew of gods who loved endlessly and deeply – Wonwoo and Mingyu. You knew of gods who admitted their wrongdoings – Jeonghan, Woozi, and Vernon.

You knew of gods who willingly did wrong, who willingly admitted it, who still searched and aimed for better – Seungcheol. If the god of the sky could openly spew his own faults, if the god of the sky could do as he pleases without so much as a second thought, why can't Seungkwan? Why can't you be the reason behind his loss of control, why can't he see you as something more than a mortal he's got to hold together? You're not broken, you're not ruined by anything but the way his skin feels against yours, his lips slotted perfectly into yours, him showing you that he wants nothing more but to melt into you and never stop being one.

So why suddenly switch up his act? Why stop kissing you when he's been all over you for longer than he hasn't, why pretend you're not someone he desires to hold near and dear to his heart when you both know that you were slowly, surely, chipping away at him? Because he'd be admitting imperfection.

And god forbid Boo Seungkwan admit he's not perfect.

You felt a sob in your throat, but pushed it down as you thumbed at the necklace he'd given you. Emerald, for growth. Scoffing to yourself, you peel it off, leaving it to dangle from the faucet handle as you turn away from it. The rain has stopped now, the sound of nature being overtaken by a few birds chirping in the trees and the occasional frog croaking beneath the windowsill.

The next three days were quieter than ever. 

You were locked in your bedroom, ignoring any of Seungkwan's attempts to speak to you. You let breakfast go uneaten, only sneaking out of your room when you'd see him hunched over in the garden from your window. You hid yourself away, opting to weave your fingers numb with the new yarn you hadn't used since you brought it home. 

He hadn't been home since last night, either. You didn't question anything, didn't care to. If he'd cared for you to know, he would have told you. After all, he is a just and fair god, is he not?

It's laughable.

All you could do was weave depictions of what you and Seungkwan could have been, or what you were. A large owl wearing an olive branch, a single spider perched carefully on the predator's shoulder. Unassuming, maybe hoping for the best despite expecting the worst from the bird. A twist of the neck, a bite off the head – and you'd be dead. "Would it be a painful death, at hands so soft?" You murmur to yourself, untangling the yarn from your fingers. The ocean blue was your background, the owl beige and brown with eyes of gold, the spider black with a single patch of gold on its chest. Representing what? Growth? A bruise of pain? A change of heart? You roll your shoulders back carefully, the soreness digging deep into your left cuff as you stretch. Sighing, you thread your fingers through the loom once more, your tired eyes drooping as you gingerly pull the yarn through. You felt alone, and yes, lonely alongside it all. You hadn't expected the god to weigh so heavily on you. You reminded yourself he chose that, though – he told you that he didn't need you. He doesn't need you to teach him anything. He doesn't need you at all.

Scoffing to yourself, you hear the creek of the window shutters behind you. You don't look over, only hearing the oh-so-familiar click of Jeonghan's boots on the marble tile. "Y/N." "Tsk, don't remind me that I've been a bad girl this time. Just tell me how I fucked up, yeah?" You respond with practised ease, not bothering to acknowledge him further. Jeonghan sighs, squatting next to your bent form in front of the loom. His fingers ghost over your hunched back, before they touch your skin. His fingertips are nothing like Seungkwan's – ice cold, even a bit callused. You move away.

"You never listen, do you?" He clicks his tongue, and you nibble at your lip without response. Shrugging, you try to act nonchalant when you feel his cold fingers swipe at your cheeks carefully. You look at him with a sigh, earning a pitiful look. "Don't pity me, Jeonghan." "I don't. I think you're an idiot, but I'd never pity you. You don't deserve that." He shrugs, before sighing. "Nice tapestry." "Thanks." You look at your fingers, when Jeonghan's hand moves to rest on your shoulder. "How's the shoulder doing? Still gets painful after you bury yourself in work?" He's referring to your constant whining of shoulder pain from the first time he met you. Something must've happened when you landed, because you'd been groaning about the pain for a few hours until he shoved you in front of a loom and asked you to weave it out – his way of asking you to shut the hell up. You'd woven something for him before he let you leave the Underworld, but like always – lost yourself in the task. You wove beautiful tales of fruit and love, and the tapestry hung proudly behind Jeonghan's throne. You hadn't seen it move since the second time you'd been dropped in.

"It's fine. Haven't had a chance to make myself a salve, Seungkwan won't let me fucking be. He's been gone for a night, though, so I might sneak out if he's not in upon nightfall." You mutter, thrumming your fingertips against the taut yarn. Jeonghan smiles, "Maybe you should let him make you the salve, Y/N. Let him take care of you." "I'd rather die than take his help." You scowl, crossing your arms with a wince of pain. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, resting his forehead against your bicep. "Darling, don't you think you're being too hard on him? You haven't spoken in three days." "He chose that. He basically told me I was just a game to him. How the fuck do you know that, anyway?" You move away from his touch again, only for the god's maroon eyes to swirl something dark. "Are we forgetting I assigned you here? I know everything that happens – every branch that snaps, every frog that croaks, every pretty little moan from that throat of yours. I see it all." "Creep." You stick your tongue out at him, making him stifle a grin. "He talks about you a lot when you're not in earshot. Mostly to himself, but you know." Jeonghan gestures to the air, insinuating he sees all, hears all. Every thought Seungkwan's had of you outside of his own head, Jeonghan knows about.

Meaning Seungcheol also probably knows about it.

You shrug again. "I don't care. He said what he said in front of me, and that negates anything he could've ever said behind my back. He kissed me, Jeonghan." 

"Didn't you beg him to?" He taunts, pinching your thigh playfully. You tongue your cheek, an embarrassed blush coating your skin as you nod. "I did…but I guess I got ahead of myself. No…god would ever fall in love with a mortal. Not the way a mortal would a god." Jeonghan's eyes widen at your words, taking your hands in his quickly. He squeezes them gently, "Don't say that." "Isn't it the truth? No god just falls in love with a mortal, Jeonghan. A god would be a fool to do that, even Mingyu did it by accident. He struck himself with an arrow, that love is nothing but purely coincidental. It's just held together by that, strings of coincidence." You scoff, and Jeonghan's brows furrow incredulously.

"Are you hearing yourself, darling? This isn't you." He shakes head at you, his bangs falling from the crown of Gladiolus flowers he wore religiously. You snort, tucking the stray hair under the petals quickly before sighing. "It's the truth, Jeonghan. Whether I want to believe it or not, whether I felt something for someone like Seungkwan at some point, it's the truth. It's not meant to be, so as soon as you say I can leave this place…I'm going." Your words pierce something within him, you can tell as he frowns deeply. His jaw ticks, as he mutters under his breath. You tilt your head at him, leaning closer, to hear the words spill from his lips. "You're the fool, Y/N." You frown inwardly, as Jeonghan groans in frustration. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. The two of you were on a good path. You were figuring things out, even if it was by exploring each other the way you chose to. You were intimate in ways Seungkwan hasn't been with anyone else before – he kissed you, he was letting you in. What happened?" Jeonghan paces in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked around. His lip tucked between his teeth as he nibbled lightly, your own voice tearing through the air as if to cut through any building tension.

"He just regrets it. It happens." You shrug, earning a scoff from the god in front of you. "Regrets it? Y/N, the guy was practically falling in love with you! You're smart, you're charming, you're the biggest brat I've ever met! How could he regret you, darling?" I don't know, you want to say. But a part of you doesn't want to know, either. Your eyes sting as you look away, but you close them only as you speak once more. "You're right, either way. I am the fool, Jeonghan, as are you." "Me!? I was trying to help you!" He balks, a look of incredulity in his eyes as a strong wind blows your shutters open. You jump in your seat, the tension in your shoulder making you groan as you dig your fingers into it carefully. "I know, and I appreciate it. It's just a shame it went to waste, I guess. He doesn't need me, and soon, I won't need him."

Jeonghan's jaw is tense as he stands upright, towering over you as you awkwardly adjust yourself on your stool. "Fine." "What?" You glance up at him, your hands now folded in your lap. "You can go. Whenever you're ready, you can leave the temple without another word." Jeonghan's words are anything but comforting, something you weren't used to from him. His eyes are darker than normal as he rubs at his temples, his tongue running over his lip as he sighs. "I expect you to return to Lydia and find Wonwoo. You'll room with him while you get back on your feet. I can get you an escort by tomorrow morning, if you choose to stay the night here. It smells like rain." Your brows raise at the phrase, something Jeonghan doesn't care to acknowledge. "I expect you to be on your best behavior, because we meant what we said, Y/N. No more second chances."

You blink at the god before you, who only shakes his head. "You can never say I didn't try."

Jeonghan ruffles the tendrils of your hair, carding his fingers through it before pressing a chaste kiss to your hairline. He sighs, "Good luck. You know where to find me." He spins on his heel, the soles of his shoes clicking against the marble once more as he treks the room. "Finish that tapestry before you leave. It'd do you well to leave Seungkwan a parting gift."

You don't respond as Jeonghan hops out of the window, pulling the shutters closed as he lands on the ground. 

Was it really that easy? You just get to say you're done? It's never been that easy before. Jeonghan has never let you off the hook so smoothly, much less when it's something that benefits him just as much (if not more) than it benefits you. 

You turn back to the unfinished tapestry, the yarn now tangled at your feet. You bend at the waist to pick it up, feeling your shoulder tense up as you begin undoing the knots. Soon, it's all just strings of blue and beige and brown, and your eyes feel tired as you weave into gloomy sunset.

No rain yet.

"It's certainly a pleasure to see you, Seungkwan." The younger god squirms under Seungcheol's gaze, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He rarely visited, and if he did, it was never without good reason. Like you, he too loved to do shit he wasn't supposed to. It often landed him here, whereas most mortals landed with Jeonghan – call it father-son privileges.

"Likewise." He replies curtly, clearing his throat as he lowers himself to the chair one of the angels has brought forth for him. He sits silently, with Seungcheol simply arching his brow at him in curiosity. "What brings you here? Trouble in paradise?" Seungkwan chokes as Seungcheol smiles into his teacup. "What?" "Before there was you, there was me." Seungcheol gestures at their surroundings with his bejeweled hands, setting the teacup down before him. "You've come to ask for redemption." "I have not!" Seungkwan scoffs as the servants place a plate of sliced fruit and warmed bread in front of him, the honey wand still inside his teacup as they slide it down. Seungkwan's ears burn in embarrassment as Seungcheol folds his hands, his eyes holding the same kind of mischief they've always shown. Seungkwan grimaces at the spread of food before him, his stomach churning at the idea of you sneaking out of your bedroom tonight as well, hoping he won't be in the kitchen as you steal bites of focaccia and cheese, pieces of salmon and lamb disappearing from the counter. Pieces he's left out for you, hoping you'll take them. Even if you don't accept the silent apology behind them.

"Being a god weighs on you heavier than I've ever seen before." Seungcheol speaks softly, earning a wistful look from Seungkwan. He doesn't respond, Seungcheol running his hand through his hair as he sighs. "You know I can't do anything for you up here, right?" "I was just hoping you'd give me some peace of mind." Seungkwan's eyes flutter closed, and Seungcheol scoffs out a soft, humorless laugh. "Me? Of all people?" "Believe it or not, I do admire your insane strength sometimes. I'm sure it'd drive me mad to be in charge of everything and everyone. I can barely handle one person." Seungkwan admits quietly, making the older man smile sadly. "I wasn't always like this." "I know." Seungkwan nods, his hand moving to take the honey wand out of his cup. "I think it was you who told me that I can't be good at everything right away. I have to learn my way." "And was I wrong? Have you not become better at things?" Seungcheol's voice holds a tilted tone, strong brows pointing Seungkwan in the direction of what's needed to be said. He sighs, nodding as he brings the teacup to his lips.

"Why does it come so easily to her?" He whispers against the porcelain, and Seungcheol only shakes his head. "What comes easily to her, comes easily to you. Both good and bad, but you both choose to focus on the things you don't have. You're human that way, you know." Seungkwan's brows raise as he looks up at the older god, who stirs a bit of cream into his tea. "I know I'm not a love expert. I've done it all – adultery, multiple wives, reverse harem at one point." Seungcheol clears his throat, cheeks tinging pink as he continues. "But I know a good woman when I see one. Y/N…she gets you. She fakes you out just enough, but never takes it too far. She knocks you down a few pegs, she makes you loosen up." "I do nothing for her." Seungkwan mumbles, holding the warm tea in his hands. It's only a few shades lighter than the first cup of tea you'd ever made for him. Seungcheol hums, "I'd argue that you do a lot for her. You feed her, bathe her, clothe her." "That's my job." The younger god tries to argue, but Seungcheol shakes his head with a smile. "Your job, Seungkwan, is to guide her. You let guilt take you down a path you would've never taken in the first place, but that guilt has begun to melt away into something much deeper. You peel her peaches. You add tomatoes to the focaccia when you hate tomatoes, you pour her wine, you fit her clothes. You hold her close and you've kissed her, Seungkwan. You've let her get further and deeper than anyone ever has."

Seungkwan sits in silence, feeling his eyes sting with tears as he looks away.

"You love her." Seungcheol whispers, making Seungkwan rest his elbows on the table, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as his shoulders shake lightly. Seungcheol reaches over, running his palm down Seungkwan's back with a gentle sigh. "You have to talk to her, Seungkwan. She figured you out faster than anyone has before. She unwrapped you from the day she got there." Seungkwan wipes at his eyes with frustration, letting a breath slip through his lips as he leans over the plate of food in front of him. He hopes you're eating something by now.

"You have to apologize, and admit your faults. You won't get through this life being so uptight about everything. They know we mess up, mortals are mortal, they're not dumb." Seungcheol rolls his eyes, earning a soft smack from Seungkwan. Wiping the younger's cheek, Seungcheol strokes the side of his head gently. "So you admit, you're looking for redemption?" Seungkwan struggles not to roll his eyes, before reluctantly nodding his head. "We can do that. Shall we?"

Seungkwan follows Seungcheol with his head low, hands clasped behind his back as the two of them make their way down the weaving halls of Seungcheol's paradise. One he'd built brick by brick, with the sweat off his brow and blood of his fingertips – housing over hundreds of gods.

Including Mingyu and his wife, Tzuyu.

Seungcheol knocks on the soft pink door, the gold knob twisting open to reveal a barely dressed Mingyu with hair stuck to his forehead. Seungcheol snorts as he pushes past, seeing Tzuyu sitting at their shared desk with a pile of books draped open in front of her. "No hello?" She calls, and Seungkwan watches as she turns in her seat.

Her outfit of a long gown and glittering sandals screams date night. Mingyu's lack thereof screams night in. A couple's quarrel, Seungkwan can tell, from the tick in her jaw and his sleepy eyes. The flowers from a few weeks ago sit in a jar, still teeming with life despite being brutally murdered by his shears.

"Hello. I've come to deliver something much more interesting than date night." Seungcheol wiggles his brows at the goddess, whose wings twitch with curiosity. "Seungkwan?" "Just trust me." The god of the sky pushes the younger one forward, and Tzuyu's eyes flash something wild as she looks over at her husband, who is now tugging a light beige chiton over his chiseled physique. "I've no reason to trust you, Seungcheol. But…I guess this is better than nothing." "Baby, I already said I was sorry. I'll make it up to you." Mingyu whines as his head gets stuck in the top of his shirt, making Seungkwan roll his eyes as he reaches over to help him. Mingyu's head pops out with a dazed look, before he shakes his head to regain his composure. The goddess before him frowns, but sighs in resignation. "What are we doing?" Seungcheol smiles, grabbing Seungkwan's shoulders and pushing him forward. "Loverboy here needs some guidance."

She quirks a brow in interest, her wings flickering behind her as she stands. The goddess flits around the duo, her manicured hands resting on her chin as her husband sits on her cushioned bench. "What are we guiding, exactly? And take your shoes off!" Seungcheol only smiles as Tzuyu forces Seungkwan to sit down, a worried look in the younger god's eyes as she hums. "This is about that pupil of yours, isn't it? Y/N, the mortal?" He nods silently, picking at his cuticles as Tzuyu gives the other gods a look of mirth. "Young love." She grins, before patting the god's shoulders. "I can fix you." "Don't. I'm fine like this." Seungkwan blurts, making Mingyu's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Yeah?" "Yeah. Can't be perfect all the time, can I?" He shivers as the words slip past his lips, and the surrounding gods only nod in agreement. "Well, let's get started." Tzuyu's voice breaks in once more, and Seungcheol steps back to allow her some more room. Seungkwan's eyes fill slightly with a bit of fear, but they close at Seungcheol's command.

Nothing but warmth can be felt around him, his chest tightening with the thought of you flooding his mind. So this is love.

It's well past nightfall as you massage your shoulder gently, your fingers not going nearly as deep as you need them to but the finished tapestry mocking you in the corner of the room. You groan in frustration, tears gathering in your waterline as you paw at yourself. You didn't manage to leave the room for dinner either, hearing Seungkwan (or…who you assumed to be Seungkwan) stumbling around in the kitchen. Truth be told, you're too much of a wimp to check. 

It didn't matter now, anyway. You'd agreed with yourself to leave the following morning, hoping for no rain. Your tapestry was large and completed, bold blues and soft beige catching the corner of your eye every way you turned. You situated your items into the bag that the yarn vendor gave you, including the blanket Seungkwan had purchased before the walk home. Your clothes were neatly rolled at the bottom, and one singular book of poems tucked under the red glitter sash you'd stolen from the god on your first few days here.

It's an odd feeling, imagining your life continuing without Seungkwan. No one to badger, no one to long for. Wonwoo would be around, but he was more your friend than anything else. Someone who took care of you as you did him, because that's what friends are for.

Jeonghan is just another god who gave you another chance. You've no friends outside the two of them, if you can even consider them to be friends. You don't know why you did it in the first place, but it makes you sick to admit that maybe, for the first time – Seungkwan's words of you not being perfect are starting to seep in deeper.

You hear a soft knock at your door, and you quickly wipe your face of any tears that would give you away as you sit up on your bed. You cross your legs over another, before clearing your throat, "Come in." Seungkwan's tired eyes peer in through the crack of the door, scanning you quickly. "Can we talk?" You don't really want to talk to him. You know that if you do, you might cry. Not that he wasn't good at making you do that anyway, but it's not like he cared. Who knows where they got 'compassionate' from, but you figure that a cruel goodbye is better than no goodbye. Nodding slowly, you watch as he slips into your bedroom, a shaky sigh from his lips as he looks at the silver tin in his hand, paired with wrapping sheets and a towel. His way of apologizing, you noticed, was this. Homemade things that would or could be of use to you, or something you might like. Like the linen he'd gotten you on your second day here with him.

"For your shoulder. It's…it's menthol and peppermint, and a little capsaicin for heat." He opens it, the muted orange salve glistening at you. You shrug, a wince crossing your face as your shoulder ticks with pain. He looks at you, and there's something in his eyes you don't recognize. You didn't really know Seungkwan, you were certain now – but his behavior seemed out of the ordinary.

"Thank you. I'd put it on, but…" You gesture at your clothing, and roll your eyes as your shoulder throbs. "You can just leave–" "I can do it for you, if you'd like." He speaks quickly, fumbling with the lid as you raise a brow at him. You recall the way he barked at you just days before, telling you he'd rather die than ever let a mortal like you help him in a time of need. The fury in his eyes when he said he didn't need you to teach him anything, and his subtle acknowledgement of that meaning he'd be depriving himself of you and your touch, your presence, your love – for the rest of your time on this Earth with him.

You click your tongue, but he rushes to sit on your bed, the wool mattress sinking below him. He adjusts himself to sit behind you, his inner thighs gently pressing against your hips. You don't say anything, simply reach for the pin that holds your top together and take it out, letting the soft cloth slip off your torso.

His hand moves your hair carefully, fingertips brushing your neck as he swoops it over. Your fingers hold it in place as you see the tin appear on his thigh, slender fingers taking a bit. "This'll be cold for a moment." The salve is cool as it touches your skin, the feeling against heat of your pained muscle making you jump. He lets out a muffled sound, his fingers softly working the salve into your skin. "Easy, don't move." He murmurs, feeling the heat of the capsaicin in his fingertips.

He's gentle and focused, and you remain rigid in front of him as thunder rolls ahead. Sighing at the sound, you peer over your injured shoulder. "Almost finished?" His eyes flicker to yours, lips pressed lightly together as he nods. You don't turn back around just yet, watching his face carefully as he continues. His free hand grabs a wrapping sheet, and he presses it firmly to your skin. 

"So it won't get on your clothes." He murmurs, and you nod, before facing out the window again. The clouds are rolling in, and you see a singular lightning bolt light up the sky. You wonder what Seungcheol could be doing now.

He wipes his fingers on a towel, tossing it into the empty dirty clothing basket behind you. Capping the tin, he uses his other hand to move your hair back. He slides the tin onto your night table, before grabbing the pin for your shirt and moving his hands to your front, gathering the fabric in his fingers and pulling it up, his knuckles lightly grazing your bare breasts. You don't react.

Neither does he.

He carefully pins your shirt back into place, adjusting the neck so it's a little loose. He doesn't move, so you speak up. "All done?"

Nothing. You feel his fingers card through your curls gently, tugging slightly. Maybe reminiscing how it felt in his hand when he kissed you in his garden for the first time. It had been just about to rain that day, too…and it did. It poured like a motherfucker. His fingers stop, instead ghosting over the slope of your neck and along the naked skin of your uninjured shoulder. He shifts behind you, and you feel his hand drop from your skin, instead feeling his forehead pressed against your body. His hair tickles, and you sigh.

"What are you doing, Seungkwan?" Your voice is gentle, it's tired. It's confused, as he breathes against you, his arms circling your torso and pulling you closer to him. Your back hits his chest, and you feel his warm lips caress your skin, heat surging your cheeks as he presses them into you. Once, twice, three times.

"I'm sorry."

You tense, his hands clutching the cloth of your shirt for dear life. "What?"

He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering up at you with the most sorrowful eyes you'd ever seen on a man, much less a god. They're glazed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."

Here he was. The same god who insisted he'd never admit to anything, any wrong doings, especially not to a mortal. The same god who looked down on you for being so irrevocably human, the same god who watched as you did the most mundane things and wondered aloud if you needed to do those things – and insisted they were weird to him.

"You're…sorry." You repeat, and he nods slowly.

"I've been horrible to you. From the beginning, I was cold and I was indifferent and I should've welcomed you with open arms because that is what a just god would do." His voice is shaky, "I don't want to make you feel like…you're not important to me. You're so important to me and I don't want to live a life where I know I can't find my way back to you, where I have to look for you in every person I try to fill the void shaped by you."

You're silent, and he takes it as a sign to keep going.

"I need to wake up in the mornings not knowing where I start and where you end. I need to know you're not gone from my life forever if I ever wake up alone, but somewhere in this place I call home, a place I need you to call home."

A singular tear rolls down his cheek, meeting your shoulder as you keep staring.

"I need you. I'm sorry I haven't been making it seem that way, I'm sorry I lied about it. I'm sorry that I couldn't admit that I was afraid I wouldn't be enough for you. I feared that your prophecies would ring with truth and you'd leave me behind." He confesses this all in nothing higher than a whisper, tears continuing to roll down his face as he presses his cheek to your skin. You feel your chest ache something awful, before looking away. "I told Jeonghan I'd leave for Lydia in the morning. I'm going to be staying with Wonwoo." You lie easily when you're not facing him, but the weight of it all hangs heavy on your shoulders as he peers over you. "You're leaving?" The silence is deafening as you nod your head, moving away slightly from his hold. His hands fall flat against his thighs, fingers squeezing them as though to ground himself. He shifts behind you, a soft apology tumbling from his lips as he moves to climb off your bed – but you place your hand on his knee, instinctively. You sigh, patting it gently as you twist to look at him. "I'd rather a nice goodbye, Seungkwan. I don't want you to be…this. Sad, I assume." "Then don't leave." He whispers, his hands reaching for your waist. He caresses the sliver of skin softly, "Don't leave me here to miss you." "You left me, first." You shake your head, but his hands only grip onto you tighter. "And I want to prove that I deserve you, that I need you to stay. Please, please don't go." "I don't know if I can trust you to do that, Seungkwan. You…I…" You trail off as he nudges you with his nose, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear. 

"I know I don't deserve it, I don't deserve a chance to show you that I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I am truly just a man at your disposal. Please don't leave me, not now. Not ever." Your cheeks burn as he presses a chaste kiss to the lobe of your ear. His fingertips move to brush the tops of your knees, exposed by the way your skirt bunches around your thighs. You push down a shiver as he palms at your skin. "I can't get you out of my mind. Every waking moment I have is consumed by you, it's killing me inside. I can't sleep without you in my bed, I don't feel full if we're not eating together. I don't feel satisfied." "That only proves that you're a man. Because you're selfish, to the depth of you. You're a selfish, careless man who hurts people who love you." Your voice is thick with tears, an accusatory finger to his chest as you turn to face him fully. He smiles sadly, before nodding as his hand floats to tuck a stray curl behind your ear. 

"I am. I'm so insanely selfish and I only want you. I could go the rest of my life without my wisdom, my wealth, anything I could ever conjure up with all the words I know." He sighs, his knuckles pinching the fat of your cheek gently. You frown, pushing his hand away, only for his fingers to interlace with yours and pull your hand to his chest. "But you? Angel." You huff, your nose burning as you swallow your tears. "You don't get to just apologize and then we move on, Seungkwan. That's not how that works, that's not life." "Isn't it? Should I grovel at your feet? I'll do it. I'll do anything you ask of me, if it means you stay." He holds your hand tightly, rings digging into your skin as he scans your face. "I miss you, Y/N."

You close your eyes, a soft sob escaping your throat as he pulls your face to his chest. "I'm sorry, my angel. I know I've hurt you. I will never forgive myself if I let you out of my life knowing you don't see yourself how I do." You cry softly into the soft material of his chiton, his voice hushed as he rains gentle praises over the crown of your head, his lips pressing kisses gently against it. His fingers tangle in your hair, carefully undoing the knots like the day you arrived, his fingernails scraping at your skin with precision. You feel his thumb pad at your under eye, pushing your face back to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Let me prove myself to you. You can leave, if I'm not enough. I won't stop you, then and only then." His eyes hold hope as they meet yours, a shaky sigh from your lips as you look away. "What if you're not?" "Then I'll suffer. I'll suffer for the rest of eternity and I'll deal with it, I've made this bed. I'll lay in it." He holds your face carefully, before you stand from his hold. His hands fall to your hips, eyes looking up at you expectantly as you nibble on your lip. "What made you change your mind?"

He doesn't respond, only pushing you back slightly to stand before you. His hands squeeze you with anxiety, "Kissing you for the first time made me feel like I was on fire. It took everything in me not to give myself to you entirely that night. I can't lose control like that, it's terrifying." "Show me. Show me how much you care." You murmur, your fingers clutch at his shirt, "Trust me, Seungkwan." His lips are on yours before another word can slip out. It's messy, it's desperate, it screams I missed you. His arms move to embrace you fully, pulling your body to his as one of his hands snakes up to the nape of your neck. Clashes of teeth and tongue as he spins the two of you around, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as he pushes you back onto it. You peer up at him, watching the way his eyes take you in slowly.

"You're so beautiful." He murmurs, sinking to his knees on the floor. You feel his hands wrap around your ankles, and you brace yourself for him to pull you towards him – only to feel his lips pepper chaste kisses to the skin of your foot. You glance down at him, his eyes closed as he trails his lips and tongue up your calf, sinking his teeth into the soft muscle as you jerk. "Hated seeing his hands all over you. I'm still not over that." "That was over a week ago." You remind him with a soft breath, earning a scoff. "Should've never touched you in the first place. I'll fix it." He shrugs, continuing his ministrations down your plush thighs, nipping and licking with precision as your body jolts against him. He rests his cheek against your inner thigh, arms pulling you closer to his face. "Can't believe I went without you for so long. I'm sorry, my angel." He speaks to himself, bunching your skirt at your hips when you sheepishly reach for the corner, untugging it from its tucked place and tossing it over the side of the bed. 

Your thighs are spread before him, your cunt glistening with your arousal as he sighs shakily, inhaling deeply with a chaste kiss to your clit. It's almost torture, how his tongue fluidly glides through your folds like he was made to please you, to devour you in one go and enjoy it so lavishly. His eyes remain closed as he holds your hips to his face, sucking languidly at your clit as you bite back your moans, your hand holding onto his hair. 

"Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear you." He whines, almost unable to detach himself from your sloppy cunt to speak. It's muffled as you pull on his hair, a moan from his throat vibrating against you making it all the more stimulating for your poor mind. 

"Missed you. Missed you so fucking much, my gorgeous girl." He keeps talking into your skin, lips coated in your slick as he buries his tongue impossibly deeper, rings digging into the supple flesh of your ass as you cant against his mouth, chasing the feeling of the end.

Your legs threaten to snap shut around his head as you sob out his name quietly, his hand finding yours and squeezing it as your orgasm seeps through you, coating his lips and tongue messily. "That's it, angel. Fuck, look at that, hm? So pretty for me. Just for me." "S'too m-much–" You gasp as your hips betray you, chasing after his tongue as he smiles into your skin. "Oh, but there's so much more to love, angel. You'll let me, right? You'll let me show you how much I love you, won't you?" "W-want you inside," You pout as he hovers over you, nimble fingers pulling at the pins holding your top shut. "We'll get there, I promise. I just want to kiss you right now." He pulls at the fabric, the white wrapping sheet stark against your skin as he gently removes the top you've wrapped around yourself.

"Kiss you…bite you…worship you. All for me, my girl. My angel." Seungkwan's voice is hushed against your stomach, his teeth biting at any skin you'll allow. Red marks bloom almost instantly as he whispers sweet nothings, his hands carefully holding you hostage against his warm body. "Seungkwan." You groan impatiently, feeling the rut of his hips between yours, a choked moan from his throat as his lips trail up your chest, tongue darting out to land a teasing lick to your pebbled nipple.

"Seungkwan." You sigh, his hand now pinning your unwrapped arm above your head. His tongue laps at your chest like a man starved, your head now nestled between the pillows. You can't move from his grasp, only squirming beneath him before wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against your core. "Fuck me already." You wrestle your arm out of his grip, interlacing your fingers as his nose brushes yours.

"I'm nervous." He admits quietly, his eyes scouring your face for any chance of laughter. Something to humiliate him with, something to dangle over his head. Your cheeks flush softly, running your fingers through his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. "Let me help you." "Y/N–" "Please. Trust me." Your lips hardly disconnect from his, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you use your weight to flip him onto his back. He sighs as your lips drag down his jaw, eyes fluttering shut as you tug his earlobe through your teeth.

"Always so tense, hm? Just let go." You murmur, feeling his cock brush against your core. You zero in on his skin, carefully tugging his shirt over his head and reconnecting your lips. Your tongue slips through his lips, licking at his own as his hands hold your hips tightly, scared to let you go. You sigh against his lips as your hips begin to rut against him, feeling his jaw slack at the friction. "Don't worry about anything. I've got you, I promise."

He only nods in response, your hand reaching down to palm him through his pants. "Don't tease me, please." He shudders at your touch, his hips bucking into the warmth of your hand as you coo at him. "I won't, gotta get these off."

You tug his pants down quickly, his leaking cock painfully hard in your hand. He whimpers against you, eyes screwed shut as you press your thumb against his tip lightly, a gasp of please falling from his bitten lips. You throw his pants over the edge of the bed, quickly readjusting yourself over his lap as his hands find your thighs.

"Be gentle." He mumbles, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes as he remains vulnerable, your hands stroking his face softly as you kiss his nose. "I'll take good care of you, okay? We've got the rest of our lives." If you feel the jolt in his chest at your words, you say nothing. You only rock against his hard length carefully, slowly sinking down. You stop as his hands squeeze your thighs with vigor, choked whimpers from his throat as you carefully grind into his lap. "Good?" "S-so good, angel. Fuck," A few tears spill from his eyes, your lips quickly kissing them away as you sink further down, the muscled flesh of his thighs flat against your ass. "Want you to see me, Kwannie. Please." You kiss around his face, his eyes peeling open to reveal absolute floodgates of adoration.

"I love you. Please, please don't leave me." He sobs softly, making you smile against his skin. "Shh. Let me show you, yeah?" You carefully begin a rhythm, his cock stretching you just right, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. Your noises are caught in your throat, mutters of you feel so good, oh my God…from your lips making his fingers grab at your hips tightly. His eyes are glued to your face, the way your lip is caught between your teeth as you try to hold back. Your fingers are digging into his shoulders as you feel his hands move to your breasts, carefully rolling your nipples through the pads of his fingers as you whimper.

"So beautiful." You call softly, entranced at the movement of your hips and the warmth of his hands on you, his own sight lost at the feeling of you so tight and wet and all for him. "Wanted you for so long, angel. Can never get you off my mind." He whines at your quickening movements, your hands holding his against your chest as your soft sounds fill his ears.

"Want you forever." You whisper, clenching around his length at the guttural moan from his lips. He flushes in embarrassment as you lean to speak in his ear, the wet sounds between you only making everything feel heavier. "Want you only, Seungkwan. Forever."

"I'll be better. I promise, angel, I'll be the best man I can." He nods frantically as you clench around him, a shaky moan from your lips as his thumb snakes between your legs, tracing circles onto your clit as your thighs tremble. "Want you all to myself, please. Please let me have you." You nod nervously, your fingers shaking as you sigh, your orgasm building quickly in your lower belly. "I'll give you everything, for you in return. Promise me. Tell me you're mine just as I am yours." "I promise, angel." He ruts his hips up into yours, matching your pace gently as he brings your face lower, your lips brushing barely as he speaks. "For as long as I live, I promise I'll be nothing but yours. My dying days, my worst moments, I'm yours."

Your lips connect messily, the kiss nothing but bumping of teeth as you come undone around him with a low whine, feeling his skin stick to yours. The flutter of your walls is overwhelming him, high-pitched whimpers from his throat, "B-Baby–" "I know, I know. Please, make me yours." You sob against his lips, your hips desperately canting against his as his cries hit your ears, feeling his cock twitch inside you before he finally lets go. He shudders, pulling you impossibly closer in a bruising kiss.

His hand loosely circles your neck as he holds you close, lips moving in sloppy tandem with yours as he lazily thrusts into you through his orgasm. Ignoring your soft cries of overstimulation, only whispering be mine, please against your spit-covered lips as you shake slightly in his arms.

You force yourself away from him on trembling arms, your thighs locking his hips down as he chases after your mouth. You muster a stern look, your eyes examining the vulnerable god before you — with parted splotchy lips and cheeks, teary eyes glazed over with post-orgasm sleepiness. Brows scrunched at the middle, your thumb instinctively reaching to pad out the wrinkle.

“You think way too much.” You mutter, watching his eyes go wide as his mouth begins to open to speak. You place your hand over his lips, sighing before you speak. “You think entirely too much for one person. You’re a selfish brat, you’re carrying way too much on your shoulders. You can’t save everyone, Seungkwan. Who saves you, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinking up at you quietly. You give him a pointed look, making him look at your chest in defeat. His brows raise, before looking back at your eyes. “You do.”

It’s muffled, but earns a tired laugh from you anyway. “You know I can’t, right? I’m not like you.”

He tugs your hand away from his face, voice hoarse as he tries to sit up gently. He only makes it to his elbows, his fingertips brushing your knees innocently. “Goddess or not, the power you have over me is unfathomable.”

“Big words already? Already back in your head, huh?” You teasingly tap his temple, and he huffs embarrassedly. “You drive me fucking crazy, alright? Up the wall insane. Is that good enough?”

You only smile down at him, your hand cupping his face gently as you pinch his cheek. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

“Love me.” He blurts. “Love me until you can’t anymore. Please, have that mercy upon me.”

“It won’t be easy. This…you and me.” You admit, sighing as your hands splayed across his chest. “You have to give me all of you, not just what you deem fit for my consumption. I’m a mortal, I’m not weak or dazed or whatever you may think of me. I don't care about what you are, god or mortal.”

“I don’t think that of you at all, angel.” He shakes his head quickly, but you just run your hand through his hair to stop him. "We'll get there, okay? I just…I don't know how to do this. The relationship thing, I've spent so long being a pain in Jeonghan's ass."

You earn a snort from him, his fingers tracing light circles into your knee as he shrugs in defeat. "I don't, either. There's a lot of things I don't know how to do, but I'm not worried if I'm learning next to you." He speaks softly, and you roll your eyes. "You're a sap." "You'll stay, right?" His eyes search your face with care, heart picking up its gentle pace in his chest as you smile down at him, pressing your lips to his forehead with a sigh. "Wouldn't dream of leaving."

The two of you jump at the sound of thunder rumbling, your hand flying to your chest as the shutters flew open. Seungkwan steadies you atop him, wincing at the reminder that he'd still sheathed inside you. He doesn't make an effort to move you off, only mumbling. "We're sticky." You snort, "Wanna get stickier?"

EPILOGUE.

Opening his heart to you only opened an unlimited number of doors for Seungkwan.

He noticed more about you — particularly, the way you loved him. Your fingers easily picked the cherry tomatoes off his pieces of focaccia before handing it over, your hands bared the heat of his hot tea as you stirred it. You whispered dirty words in his ears to fluster him, your hands snaking around his body without hesitation. Every surface in your shared home was christened with you in whatever position imaginable, crumbled whines of how much you loved him falling from your lips as he worked tirelessly to please you.

He noticed the way you’d silently take the lead if something became too overwhelming for him, something he’d yet to figure out on his own. You’d take shears from his hands in the garden, you’d put a pretty spring of lavender over his ear at the slightest sound of a discouraged grunt. You’d kiss his temple, his cheek, his nose, lips with such gentle fervor, he’d feel himself melt away.

Much like he is in this moment, seeing you holding a skewer with candied orange slices. Your lips are slightly coated in sugar crystals, your hand growing weak from gripping the thin stick so tightly. He walks over silently, his fingers prying it from your grasp as you stop talking to Mingyu to acknowledge him with a gentle smile.

“I’ve got it.”

He only takes the skewer, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got you. Just let me.”

“This is a beautiful look on you, Seungkwan. So young and in love.” Mingyu’s voice is full of teasing, earning a scowl from the younger god — one that gets pinched away by your fingers on his cheek. “Stop that.”

Seungkwan’s eyes fall to you, your relaxed shoulders surrounded by everyone you’ve only ever heard of — and stories you’ve only told, never known. You’re covered by the tapestry you’d made for him, the large owl on display across your back as a matching blue hood covers your hair carefully. You’d been far too proud of it to only display it in the temple — and you’d been right to do so, you’d only received compliments since, from gods and mortals alike.

Your posture only proved how little everyone's power affected you. You cared nothing of their advantages, their own hubris, nothing – you spoke to everyone the same way. You smiled mischievously, you nibbled on the inside of your cheek when deep in thought. You nodded along to deeper stories of woe and war, and held your wine glass close to your chest when offered more.

Your eyes would look for him in the crowds of gods, looking for the bright green wreath he donned regularly amongst his peers. He'd meet them every so often, a soft look of concern on his face as you simply smiled and turned back to your conversation. You'd find him for comfort, for strength, for someone to hold your drink if your wrist got tired. You stood in front of everyone with a brave smile, but he knew that deep down, you'd be once more leaving everything you'd known life to be – this time, for him. To be by his side, as an eternal being he can love and worship and tend to. A goddess of his very own, one that no one has to understand but him – and he selfishly hopes no one ever does decipher the intricate ways of your heart, the weaves of your fingers and stories of your mind.

So sure, it might not be the best thing ever. It might be an admittance of imperfection, it might be lack of common sense for a god so skilled to fall straight into the sticky web of a lying, deceiving mortal. A mortal who has pushed and pulled him back and forth, a mortal who has shown him pure and unadulterated appreciation despite knowing that their past is one of the rockiest starts to a love story ever possibly written. A mortal who is now knelt before his fellow gods, Seungcheol's hand hovering over your head as he gently allows yet another disturbance of natural order – yet another mortal, who fell for a god, and a god who lost his first fight to love.

"Hey." You murmur, weaving through a few people to reach him. He looks up, eyes wide as you untuck your hair from the cloak. In your hand is the singular crown of marigolds Seungcheol had given you, something that Seungkwan brought forth when you made the trip to see the god of the sky. Seungcheol welcomed you into his home with a warm smile, giving Seungkwan a wink as the two of you left everyone in awe.

"Hey, you." He nods, setting down his glass of wine on the bar. Your candied orange is still in his other hand, and you happily take it back, sinking your teeth into the crumbly sugar. "Drinking all by yourself, handsome?" "You don't have to keep flirting with me, you know. I'm already a mess." He rolls his eyes, but you only coo at the tinge of pink in his ears. "But I do, my love. It keeps our love alive." You gesture methodically to the air around you, making him laugh.

"How are you feeling? I don't know the mortal-to-goddess route." He snakes his arms around your waist, earning a whistle from Mingyu across the room. He childishly sticks his tongue out at him, making you smile. "Mmh. I feel the same, I think. Just a little bit of pressure." "Comes with the job, I fear." He nods, plucking the marigold crown from your fingers. "You need to wear this, pretty." He jostles it gently, blooming the petals further with his fingertips. You bow your head slightly, and he places it carefully atop your hair.

"I love you." He murmurs, tucking a loose strand of your hair over your ear. You only smile in return, pressing a sugary kiss to the side of his lips. "As endlessly as I love you?" "Probably more. I would die without you." He nods quickly, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Can't have that, can we?"

So much for unforgiven.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch13

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, Oral (m-receiving), grinding

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One Month, Twenty Days Until D-Day

"Miguel, I said I'm fine now. No need to keep me on a lease," You said with a low whine.

"Every time I let you out of my sight, you seem to get injured. I can't have my little Spider escape again." Miguel grunted.

Hiding your flustered cheeks, you pouted towards Miguel. He could be so stubborn sometimes. Then again, he wasn't wrong either. You didn't want to admit it, but you were still aching in pain from your fight with Goblin.

"Alright," You huffed, resting your head against his shoulder.

Miguel had you sitting on his lap, his arm firmly around your waist. He was absorbed in his work, grunting to your small comments here and there. It brought a smile to your face. Miguel seemed so cruel but cared so much.

"Miguel, how come you don't want to at least take my blood sample anymore? You were so adamant before." You asked out of curiosity.

"Because once I knew it was you, I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Awe~"

--------

What a fucking lie.

"I know how much you dislike my experiments," Miguel continued, sweetening his words, "I wouldn't want my little Spider afraid of me anymore than she is now."

"Awe~ Miguel~" You cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I was never afraid of you! Concerned, yes, but not afraid!"

Too easy.

"Hn, but I do hope you tell me how this happened. I am a scientist, after all, I have a curiosity to feed."

"You have to promise you won't get mad,"

Lord, you looked adorable with your little pout. Miguel couldn't help but give you a lazy stare, holding back the urge to bend you against his desk and fuck you. Miguel was craving you, but he had to wait. He needed to make sure it was safe for him to take his injection.

"I promise," Miguel sighed, already knowing everything.

He just wanted to distract himself from work and entertain you. Grunt lowly as you fixed yourself against his lap, Miguel gripped your waist. These frustrating human urges had to wait. Miguel was giving himself a harsh slow burn at this rate.

"Well, remember that day when your Spiders got loose...One bit me and I accidently killed it. It was the same day I fainted," You whispered nervously.

"Ah, so that's how it happened,"

"I'm sorry," You gave a small frown. Miguel leaned forward to peck your lips,

"I promised I wouldn't be mad, remember? Instead, you can make it up to me by showing me what you could do. A little show,"

Perhaps he should go into acting? Miguel leaned back in his seat, impressed by his own skills. It was either that or you being too gullible. Your love for him blinded you in many ways that Miguel thoroughly enjoyed.

Watching you give him your own little runway show, Miguel couldn't help but chuckle. Your blood was being used right now to make several of his new injections. He was going to use it on more prisoners or willing test subjects. Which ever was the successful injection...

Miguel will kill them.

Only the two of you were allowed to bear humanity's future. Miguel was not going to risk another person poisoning his plan. Only Miguel could rule, with you as his trophy.

"Okay, this part really freaked me out at first, buuuuuut, I got used to it." You chirped, showing your organic webs.

"Let me see," Miguel motioned you closer.

You as his pet. His trophy. His obedient wife. Honestly, Miguel was lucky that it was you and not some random woman. Just the thought of you crying annoyed Miguel. He would have probably made you super powered in that case as well.

"Fascinating." Miguel hummed, holding your wrist.

"W-Wait...I didn't think it...would be this sensitive," You whimpered, trembling as Miguel stroked your wrist.

"Perhaps you just are," Miguel chuckled, watching you fall apart, "I believe I recall you mentioning better stamina? That isn't what it seemed like when my fingers were inside you."

"H-Hah, M-Miguel...Don't say things like that...out loud," You whimpered. Miguel pulled you closer,

"Hm? Are you getting wet just by me saying it? What a naughty girl,"

"Mhm, Miguel~"

"Show me how sorry you are."

Miguel resisted a chuckle as you whined and got down on your knees. He motioned you under his desk and watched you crawl over before undoing his belt. Ah, how perfect you looked. Your lustful gaze just begging for him.

Miguel inhaled deeply the moment you started to stroke his cock. How nice this felt. Returning to his work, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the time. Any second now his next meeting should arrive. Oh, how cruel Miguel was.

---------

Was today finally going to be the day? You eagerly got on your knees under his desk and started to please Miguel. He was driving you insane with all this teasing. As you undid his belt, you kept glancing up at Miguel.

Ugh, the eye contact made you melt.

Taking his cock out, you pouted as you started to stroke his shaft. Oh, what you would do to have this inside you. To have Miguel ravish you and make you his. Gosh, you had a dirty and unhealthy mind. This man was straying you from good!

Dazed as you glanced up at Miguel, you swirled your tongue against his cock, hoping for praise. Miguel rested his hand against your head, stroking it as you treated him. Your thumb pressing his tip slightly as you felt him twitch from your tongue.

"Good girl,"

Oh, those words made your panties soaked. Bringing your lips to his tip, you hummed as you twirled your tongue against it. Miguel only grunted in response before he started to type away. This made you frown since you wanted his attention.

Taking his cock in your mouth, you closed your eyes to the bitter taste as you started to suck. As you were getting into the groove, you flinched as you heard the doors open.

"Good morning, sir. I've brought the files you requested."

"Hm, you're late. I should have had these before I walked in." Miguel spat.

You were shaking as you slowly moved your mouth away from Miguel's dick. Why didn't he tell you he had a meeting? Gasping quietly, you felt Miguel's hand press your head back to his cock. Oh, he was mean. Biting your lower lip, you returned to sucking Miguel off.

"Did you get the other thing I requested?" Miguel asked.

"Yes...Sir, not to sound rude, but why couldn't you have gotten (Y/N) to do it?" The man questioned.

You flinched at the mention of your name.

"Are you telling me how to handle my own assistant?" Miguel chuckled darkly, his cock twitching more as you fasten your pace, "(Y/N) is doing something far more important than the task I've given you. Now, I suggest you leave before I get anymore angry."

"...Yes, sir..."

Feeling your eyes water as Miguel's cock hit the back of your throat, you tried to breathe through you nose. You were waiting for the other associate to leave. Hearing the door shut, you whined as Miguel's hand returned your head.

"Now, now. Kept going while I had someone in here, how bold." Miguel teased, moving your head at a faster pace, "I might have to reward you after all."

Ah, those words made you quiver. Wincing as you felt Miguel hold your head down, you moaned as he grunted and cummed in your mouth. You swallowed hard and coughed as you moved your head away from his cock.

"You're....so....mean," You whined.

Miguel just chuckled lowly as he wiped your face. He pulled you onto his lap, adoring how easily you caved for him. How easy it was to turn the city's hero into his little sex doll.

"But, you did hide your secret from me for a while,"

"Miguel~" You cried softly.

Why was he tormenting you like this so much? Grinding yourself against his still exposed cock, you whimpered and begged into his ear. Miguel held your waist, just grunting and groaning to your attempts.

"Now, now. You were just being a good little Spider," Miguel said with a sigh, fixing your skirt, "I'll give you a taste."

You gasped as Miguel placed you on his desk. He lifted your skirt and started to rub his cock against your panties. You knew that Miguel wanted you to wear more skirts, was this the reason? To torment and tease you?

"M-Mig-" You whimpered a moan as he rubbed against your clit.

"Hm? Want my fingers instead?"

"Hah~ N-No~"

---------

Miguel could see the tears in your eyes with every stroke. You were desperate, ready to cum. Miguel was tormenting himself as well. Moving you panties aside, Miguel groaned lowly as he rubbed his cock directly against your dripping cunt.

"H-Hah~ Ah~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.

Miguel held your legs as he easily moved his hips. The thoughts of getting you pregnant were oh so delicious. Your moans were music to his ears. Just the thought of anyone else being in your shoes angered Miguel.

You were the only one for him.

"M-Miguel~" You moaned, arching your back as his dick hit your clit, causing you to cum.

"Heh, some stamina." Miguel teased once more.

"P-Please, Miguel...P-Please put it inside," You begged.

Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek. Your pussy was making a wet mess on his desk as it clenched to nothing but air. If Miguel had a condom, he might just give into your advances. Shit, who would have thought that he was now going crazy over you?

"I can't, just behave." Miguel hissed.

Putting you on your stomach, Miguel pressed your legs together and squeezed his dick between them. You gasped and cried out as Miguel slapped his hips against your ass, giving you rough thrusts against your drenched cunt.

He wasn't fucking you, but he was giving you an experience. Miguel held your arms behind your back as he enjoyed the feeling of his dick between your legs.

Soon.

Your moans were filling his office as Miguel kept attacking your clit. Grunting lowly as you cam again, Miguel released your arms to hold your waist.

Soon.

Groaning your name lowly, Miguel took a moment as he cam between your legs. You body still twitching as he moved away, admiring the view.

Soon.

Grabbing some napkins, Miguel proceeded to clean himself up. He then moved onto you, watching you sweat and pant for air. If this was the state you were in now, Miguel couldn't wait to see what would happen when he actually fucked you.

Miguel stroked your cheek, kissing you for a job well done. You were making a mess of him. Once you were clean, you promptly returned to his lap, quietly sitting in place until Miguel requested for your help once more.

--------

Aaron sat in the lunchroom, watching some of the workers acting out. Everyone knew it was the effects of Rapture. It was almost that time of month for those affected associates to get their dosage of Rapture.

"Psst, I've told some of the others. They're willing to give you some of their supply for this month."

"Thanks, that's more than enough to do the job." Aaron whispered back. The other worked scoffed, sitting beside him,

"You're insane for trying this."

"The only way to stop a villain is to give him his just desserts."

"And how will you do it?"

"I'll just have to ask (Y/N) a favor,"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter One

(AO3 Link) | Master List | Ko-Fi

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You). F/M.

Word Count: 2100 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, Tav w/tragic backstory, graphic violence, domestic fluff, camp life, Tav has no magic/fighting ability, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT).

WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One - Intoxicating

“Fucking-... Piece of-... Ugh!” Your fingers burn from the friction of wrestling with your chain. You let out a guttural growl as you fall back, flat on your arse in defeat. Yep, you’re definitely stuck. The cuff makes your ankle itch and the chain doesn’t seem to have weakened. Panting, you search your cell for some form of escape to no avail. Just in the cold cobbles beneath you and the bars that cast lengthy shadows on your bruised body. Your clothes are tattered and ripped, if you can even call them clothes anymore. They leave your injuries from your perilous journey here on full display. The last thing you remember was falling, then… Floating? Then black. Now, there’s goblins everywhere and your head hurts… A lot… It really, really hurts actually…

The room begins to spin as you focus on the sensation, then you remember the creature that lives behind your eye. You shiver at the thought as the room pulses around you. It’s searching for… something? It searches for… it’s own kind. You sense it’s kin nearing your cell. The creature writhes in your skull, burning your eyes from the inside. You cry in pain, holding your head to prevent it from coming apart. “This, is the human?” A raspy, deep, feminine voice commands. You squint, attempting to pierce your vision through a wall of warped pulsations. “Y-yes ma’am. We found her by the crash site.” Another voice responds, full of gravel and apprehension. Whoever he’s speaking to, he’s afraid of her.

“Hmm… Interesting.” Your creatures connect and you feel an overwhelming urge to open your mind to the intrusion.

You see her silhouette: Thin, tall and armoured. Then, her wisteria skin and light blonde hair comes into focus. “Welcome home, True Soul.” You do not see her mouth move, nor hear the words through your ears. Instead, her voice echoes in your mind. She pokes and prods at your thoughts, prying open your defences and harvesting your memories. She smiles and pulls out of your mind abruptly once satisfied. You gasp for air as the pain finally subsides and you crumble to the floor. “It will get easier.”

“Wh-what is this? I don’t-” You speak through tears.

“Shh. It will become clear soon enough. The Absolute has plans for you. For us all.” Her words almost sounded like comfort, but there’s something wrong. When she dug into your mind, it left hers open to you. She wants something.

She scans your deteriorating rags, then glares at the goblin by her side who shivers under her gaze. “Do you have no sense?! No respect?! Find some clothes for her. Now!”

“Y-yes Minthara! Sorry! Er-” He dashes away and returns moments later, bundle in hand, he slides it through the bars, shaking.

“Thank you…” You reach for it hesitantly.

“Once she is dressed, you will bring her to me.” She walks away.

“Y-yes Minthara.” The goblin responds. He flicks his eyes back at you and gestures for you to hurry up. You nod and dress yourself, trying to conceal as much of your body as you can from the worried eyes of the goblin.

You smooth down a dress made of various pelts over your wide curves. It wasn’t well made and it certainly could have been more modest, but it fit well enough and you were grateful for the change. The gate opens and the goblin hastily releases your ankle from the chain and pushes you forward. “Move.” You obey and walk in front of him, arms behind your back as he directs you through the camp by your wrists. As you move through what seems to be a lively party, all eyes are on you. Some goblins jeer and make obscene gestures, others inspect your body from afar as they glug their ale. Choosing not to let this phase you, you dare to ask your guard a question: “What are you celebrating?”

“Raid. Good one.” Despite his bluntness and reluctance to reveal information, you hear the smile on his face in his words.

Eventually you make it to the inside of a large, run down, temple-like building. It seems the party stopped here. The grand architecture allows for various phrases, commands and even cries of agony to echo and bounce off the walls. Minthara is observing a map as you approach her. She looks up at you, briefly. “Better. Leave us.” You can’t help but admire her authority as the goblins scatter at her command. She looks back down and traces her fingers along painted roads. Curiously, you look over to find that the map contains no location that you recognise other than Baldur’s Gate. “Is this where we are?” You ask hoping that maybe you aren’t as far from home as you once thought.

“Yes. But I’m hunting for something that isn’t on this map, or any for that matter.” She doesn’t look at you as she speaks.

“That doesn’t sound easy.” You try to sympathise. Powerful allies are always useful, especially in situations such as this.

“No. Especially when all you have are dimwitted pawns at your disposal.” She spits disgust through her words, you nod and move closer to get a better look at the map. “In usual circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but I plan to make great use of you, True Soul. Your name, what is it?”

“Tav. And you are Minthara?” She nods. “You call me True Soul, what does that mean?” She grins with excitement as she gets to be the one to explain The Absolute, the tadpoles and your potential. She does so with a fierce determination in her eyes and a proud loyalty in her voice that speaks to the darker cravings of your mind. You consider that maybe this creature in your head isn’t so bad, after all. “And your hunt? Is it to serve The Absolute?”

“Correct.” She pauses to consider whether or not to reveal her intentions. “There’s a weapon. Powerful and well sought after. I am sure that it is being protected by a grove of druids somewhere in this area.” She circles a section of the map for you. “No matter how many patrols we have sent, they return with little information. Pathetic creatures.” She grumbles under her breath. Her eyes light up, she looks at you and grins.

“We have a prisoner. Though, I believe our… ‘interrogators’ lack a certain finesse. His lips remain tightly bound. I’m sure The Absolute would have a fine reward for the one who loosens them.” Her eyebrow raises as she eagerly awaits your response. Torture isn’t your usual expertise, but you can see in her eyes the excitement and even arousal at the thought of you shedding such blood for The Absolute’s cause. You deduce that her disappointment in you would have far greater consequences than the pain of a stranger.

“I understand.” Your eyes are wide as you accept this unsightly task. You stretch a smirk over your teeth in an attempt to match her enthusiasm.

“Excellent. Follow the screams, oh, and do not come back empty handed.”

You do as she commands, following the pleads for mercy until you find two goblins and a human tied to a torture device. You try to put on your most authoritative voice as you speak. “I have orders from Minthara. I’ll take over from here.” The goblins grumble, displeased with the arrangement as they open a space for you, directly in front of the stranger. You move into position and look up at him. His eyes are dry yet his cheeks are stained with tears, his cracked lips part as he whimpers softly. You approach, he scans you, unsure of your next move. And honestly, you’re unsure too. You’ve never been in a position to hurt someone, before now there was no opportunity for you to take. In fact, you have grown accustomed to the opposite, but this is different. This is… Powerful. Powerful in a way that makes your stomach churn and your heart flutter. A questionable, undefinable mix of want and need. You graze your finger over your canvas as he squirms. His fear is intoxicating.

Hot pokers sit in a brazier, you take one and hold it in front of his face, just close enough to singe hairs. “Where is the grove?” You ask him calmly, allowing the poker to emphasise the question for itself.

“F-fuck… Y-you…” His response doesn’t anger you, it frightens you. Your eyes widen as you build the courage to transform your threat into action. Your breathing becomes deeper as you try to submerge your hesitation. You muster as much command in your voice as you can, trying to hide your pleading. You do not want to hurt this man, no matter how intriguing this sensation is. “Where is the grove?”

He lets out a desperate whimper before feebly grasping onto his loyalty. “I s-said… F-fuck you.” The emanating heat travels from his cheek, down his neck, down his chest, stopping at his stomach. He gasps and desperately tries to wriggle away to no avail. You look into his eyes, searching for the key to end his torture, you find none. He screams in devastating agony, the smell of his burning flesh causes the goblins around you to salivate. You look down to find your own hand gripping the poker. Although you had prepared and felt it’s movement, somehow the choice your arm made surprised you. “Okay! Okay! Please! Stop!” You hold on a moment longer, examining the strange appendage before you as it shamelessly displays it’s power over it’s victim.

You pull away suddenly, your mind inhabiting your arm once again. The man splutters and cries, riding out the unrelenting wave of soreness. Regaining composure, you look back into his eyes. You yearned for the ability to communicate that he was not the only victim in the room, that you don’t want him to feel such pain. Then again, you suppose that would offer him little comfort. “Where is the grove?” The tears in his eyes obscure his vision until you are nothing but a blur.

“P-please…” By now he knows his pleas are useless but he continues anyway, using them as a mantra to calm himself through the pain. “No more… I beg of you…”

“Where is the grove?”

“No… I can’t be responsible for their deaths… I can’t…” In all the chaos, you hadn’t even considered the possible slaughter that Minthara had planned for the grove. If these druids are guarding this ‘weapon’, it is doubtful that they will hand it over without a fight. You can only hope that their forces are stronger than hers, for there is nothing you can do now, you need this information to protect yourself.

You spot a rusted dagger on the floor and swap it with the poker. The man flinches at the possibilities you now hold in your hand. You place the tip on the left side of his stomach, below the steaming burn. “Where is the grove?”

“No, I-” His defiance is interrupted by a shriek as the dull blade buries itself into his skin. You push. “Stop! Stop!” You look at his pained face, he looks at you, you need not repeat the question. You begin to drag the blade to the right, rust snagging on flesh, his blood leaks in irregular spasms, it is and isn’t pretty. He cries and looks at you in terror as he realises that you have no intention of stopping and his innards will soon be spilled onto the floor. He submits. He submits to you.

“P-please! I’ll tell you! Everything! Please!” You step back, removing the dagger from his body and releasing it from your grasp. Once he regains somewhat control of his breathing, he speaks again. “E-East… P-past the ruins and… The bridge. They c-covered the gate with ivy…” His head lolls in defeat and exhaustion.

You look around to find goblins staring at you in awe. Before any could compliment you on your twisted success, you nod and leave to report back to Minthara. She leans back and hungrily gazes at you as she processes the information: satisfied, impressed, fascinated. Before you know it, you’re travelling by her side, her army marching closely behind. She steals glances at you, noticing your beads of nervous sweat. You’ve never been close to a battle like this, and you’re really, really bad at hiding it. She doesn’t comment, just smirks and continues her pursuit. Together you head to the grove, to the weapon, to the East. Once again, you hope that they can handle what’s coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

[skyechild]

Lure

𖤐 pairing: Dokkaebi!Jeonghan x human!reader (m/f) 𖤐 genre: smut, fluff if you squint 𖤐 warnings: MDNI 𖤐 wc: 2k 𖤐trope/au: established r/s, lore au/god 𖤐kink(s): face fucking & panty kink (roleplay) 𖤐 summary: Theres something outside your house in the forest that always messes with you... 𖤐 notes: Oop. October 4th of kinktober and another fic for creature feature by @kwanisms i think Jeonghan fit this creature enough, these goblins are playful af and so is jeonghan. Im also going to start putting what each monster is. there was a specific pic i wanted to use of Jeonghan but his mic was in it and i realized that it looked a little too dark for a dokkaebi which is a supposed playful deity 𖤐Meaning: Dokkaebi, also known as Korean goblins are nature deities or spirits possessing extraordinary powers and abilities that are used to interact with humans, at times playing tricks on them and at times helping. 𖤐Tags: @cultofdionysusnet / @spooo00oky / @stravvberrymilksan

Youre getting annoyed with the thing outside your window that throws rocks at it. You huff and sit up, walking towards the back too and peeking your head out the door to look towards your window. Nothing. Again. But as your gaze passes the forest you stop. Theres a figure in the distance thats watching. Sometimes you see him, sometimes you dont, but never in broad daylight.

You have a feeling that its him fucking with you whenever youre in your room or take a walk in the forest. You narrows your eyes, barely managing to take in the males pretty features right before he disappears from your sight. "What the fuck?" You mumble. You swore you just saw him and barely got the time to see his face before he was gone. You huff before you step out of the house. Youre going to hunt this thing down.

You grabbed a jacket before you closed the door and stomped into the forest. "Where are you, you little shit." You yell, slipping your jacket on as you walked. You shouldve changed out of your skirt but you were too angry with this thing. Theres a gust of wind right as your able to hold down your skirt, you huff before walking further. For all you know this thing could be luring you out to kill you and you are walking straight into it.

You clench your fists in front of your skirt. "Youve got cute panties on." The voice is a whisper in your ear and you cant find the owner anywhere. You look around, cheeks pink at the words. You can almost feel the back of your skirt being lifted and you spin around, ready to confront him but you see nothing. "What is your name?" Its silent for a while and your half tempted to open your mouth to ask another question when the breeze comes by again, what feels like fingers touching the back of your thighs.

Again, you spin around ready to throw a punch only for nothing to be there. What the fuck is going on? You bite you lip, looking around, seeing a quick blur of movement and you jerk to run after it before you stop, what is this thing trying to do? Kill you? You narrow your eyes. At least if you go out, youll go out cute. You take off towards the spot you saw the dark blur.

Skidding to a stop you blink. You never knew there was a clearing. You hadnt stepped into the clearing yet. Your grandmother used to warn you about fairy rings. You look around before a small rock bounces off your head. "That wasnt very nice." You mumble, holding the spot, hearing giggles from in front of you. You eyes land on the boy in front of you. His ears are slightly pointed, his teeth are sharp, almost like what you think a monster would look like. You frown.

"Hi! Im surprised you followed me this far." You cross your arms. "You arent very nice, why did you throw a rock at me?" He shrugs and you huff. "It seemed fun." Your jaw drops a bit. "Fun?! You thought it seemed fun to throw a rock at me?!" You watch as he nods, a smirk on his lips. "Yeah, it kinda was to be honest." You clench your fist, his eyes flickering towards it before back at you. "

"Why wont you leave me alone?" He cocks his head to the side, the smirk changing into a fond grin. "Your reactions are entertaining. Theyre very cute actually." You roll your eyes and the smirk is back on his lips as he takes a few steps forward. "And i get to see all your pretty panties. Did you know you kinda strip in your sleep? You should close your curtains."

Your jaw drops again, pink covering your cheeks. "What the fuck?!" He waves his hand in a flippant gesture. "Not important. Anyways, my name is Jeonghan. You can call me Hannie if you want." You raise a brow. "I dont even know you and you want me to call you Hannie?" He nods, your arms fall to your side. You barely notice him closing the distance.

Your eyes dark around his face. Hes pretty. He has black hair thats pulled back and pinned with a hair pin, a round face and eyes that just scream mischief, if you ignored his pointed ears and the sharp teeth, he could pull off being human.

"So your name is Jeonghan." You ignore the whine of him wanting you to call him Hannie. "But what are you?" He nods. "Smart cookie." You frown. Your boyfriend says that sometimes. You cross your arms, leaning onto one leg, hip cocked out. "Im a dokkaebi." He smiles, a mocking bow following. "A dokkaebi? I thought those were only lore?" He motions to himself then grins. "Well im here, and you know its real with how you felt the rock."

You hate that you agree with him but then you remember something. "Panties?!" You have half the mind to take off your jacket it and wrap it around waist. "Yeah, they smell good too." Hes bold too. Its kind of attractive. You want to smack the small part of you that thinks that. "Excuse me? Are you stealing my panties??" He smiles and you notice it changes his whole face. He looks sweet and inviting, the smirk is haughty and cocky. And the grin makes him look very mischievous.

"Mayhaps." You frown. Is that where all my panties are disappearing too? "Do you still have them?" He nods, smiling innocently. "Ill return them soon." You bit your lip. Hes close enough to touch and his skin looks soft. You shake your head a bit, shaking the thought off at the same time. "What...what do you do with them?" He raises a brow, surprised at your sudden interest. He uses that time to trap you against the tree behind you. "Ya' really wanna know?" You nod unconsciously and he smiles.

"Well i start with putting one up to my face, you smell good." He comments off handedly. "Then i wrap another one around my cock, its even better when theyre wet." He purrs. "I use them to jerk off. Sometimes ill even suck off the wetness whenever you do something naughty." He hums the words against your neck and your head tilts back against the bark, eyes closed.

"You taste like heaven." He wraps an arm around your waist, trapping you between him and the tree, pulling your lower half to his. "My favorite is that blue satin pair." He chuckles. "The purple baby doll is a close second though. Its a good thing i can make cum stains disappear." Your cheeks flush and he laughs, a soft breath of laughter that fans across your neck.

"Smells like you have a problem." He hums, the arm not around your waist sliding to your ass, slipping under the skirt and groping the skin, a deep groan leaves his throat. "Youre wearing the blue pair arent you. This pair always sticks so easily to you when your wet." He hums, pressing his mouth against your ear. "Lets make a deal hm? Suck me off and ill help you." You nod as his fingers brush against the wet spot on your panties.

"Take them off." He coos, snapping the band. "Or ill rip them off." He means it, you notice. Your heads a bit fuzzy but you obey, slipping off the pair and Jeonghan snatches them from your hand and holds them up to his nose, pushing your shoulder down, you understand him, getting to your knees as a growl leaves his lips. "You taste and smell even better fresh."

Your eyes cant leave his face. The face hes making...its beautiful. His tongue darts out to lick the wet spot. "Continue." He snips, tangling his hand in your hair. You obey, licking your lips as you pull down his pants and underwear. The cold air feels weird but oddly good on your bare pussy. The breeze, courtesy of Jeonghan, flips your skirt up again as you wrap your hand around his cock.

Its just as pretty as him. He has more length than girth, you wonder if its possible to deep throat him. He tangles his free hand in your hair as well, gripping your hair tight once you suck on the tip. Your panties are still up in the air at his mouth. His eyes are still closed and you want him to crumble.

You spit onto his cock, making sure his dick is wet enough before you start wrapping your lips around his cock, bobbing your head a few times as he groans. You hum softly and the feeling makes his knees wobble for a second. "Fuck..." He mumbles, when you look up again hes looking down at you, eyes hoodied and blown with lust. "Im gonna fuck your face angel." You hum and relax your jaw and throat, hands resting on his thighs.

He gives an experimental thrust of his hips and groans as his tip hits the back of your throat. "Fuuuck." He whines, hips picking up speed once you give him another ok. His hips are moving quickly and his grip on your hair is borderline painful but it makes you whine around his cock. Tears form in your eyes from the abuse on your throat. "Almost there angel." He mumbles and you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock and his hips stutter, a whine leaving his lips as he presses your nose against his pelvis, groaning deeply as he cums down your throat, pulling out and letting the remaining bits land on your face and on your tongue.

You cough when he pulls out but swallow. You giggle and stand up. "Im surprised you went with that Hannie." You smile at your boyfriend. He puts the under in his hand before helping you step back into them despite your complaint. Jeonghan didnt often get to relax and 'do his dokkaebi duties' hes said a few times. He laughs and presses a kiss on your forehead. "I feel more relaxed now too, been bottling it up for too long, was starting to get sick."

You frown, touching his cheeks, a smile spreads on your lips as he leans into your touch. "Thats not good love. Let me know next time before it gets too bad." He nods, eyes closing as he snuggles into your touch again, hugging you to his chest.

"I love you princess." He whispers into your palm and you smile. "I love you too Hannie." Jeonghan smiles against your hand, one of his covering your hand and sighing. "I forgot how much my powers can drain me." He refuses to let go of your hand and you chuckle. "Should we go lay down?" He's quiet for a moment before he nods. "I gotta get you off too." Your cheeks turn pink. "I uh...I already came. Youre really pretty when you cum...and i was touching myself..." You confess and his eyes open, half glaring before it breaks into a smile.

"Lets go then, get you in a new pair of panties and then i wanna lay on your chest." You chuckle, letting him lead you up to your shared room. His legs are still a bit wobbly and he takes that moment to also change into pajamas, pulling some out for you.

Jeonghan helps you change before he flops down on the bed, letting you get settled before pushing you legs apart so he can rest his head on your chest, his weight pressing you down into the bed. You take that moment to take the hair pin out, placing it on the table and pulling the blanket up both of you to rest under. "Take a nap Han, ill be here when you wake up...im kind of stuck anyways."

He nods against against your chest before he snuggles more into you, holding on of your hands and relaxing. Hes out within minutes, soft snores leaving his mouth as you stroke your fingers through his hair.

"Sleep well Hannie."

[princess-leaorgana]

What Tieflings Do Chpt. 10

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, TRIGGER WARNINGS OF SA AND BODY DYSMORPHIA

Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Or Read all chapters on AO3

‘Adoring applause? Oh, you’re too kind.’

The grove was safe, but very selfishly, Zelphie was happy as that meant the tieflings from Elturel were safe. She adored each of them. The children especially. Zelphie did have her eyes on one little group in particular, the most boisterous of the whole party, the siblings Cal, Lia and Rolan. For the party that was beneath him just hours ago, Rolan was very happy to show off his skill in prestidigitation and give the party a light show. When Zelphie met the tiefling, he was very cocky about his talents with the weave and Zelphie had come to find out in her life that any man who peacocked about like Rolan did, wasn’t skilled. But he was rather skilled. Zelphie caught the tail end of one little series of lights and she clapped for Rolan, which surprised him. Lia and Cal were clearly enjoying themselves but weren’t clapping for him. Rolan bowed before Zelphie and she giggled. He seemed much more happy and relaxed.

‘I’m glad to see you in higher spirits,’ Zelphie told him as he sipped his wine.

‘Decent wine, my siblings are safe and I have a loving audience, what am I to be low for?’ He asked her and she grinned. 

‘I don’t know if Cal and Lia could be considered a loving audience,’ she said, as Cal and Lia were giggling to each other, sending Rolan little jabs.

‘Ah, before you came over and kindly gave me my due, they were begging for an encore. Don’t let their ribbing fool you, my friend,’ he said and Zelphie’s tail wagged. Things had been tense between not only the siblings the last few days but also between her and Rolan. He was convinced they were making a mistake staying at the grove to help with the fight against the nearby goblin camp. Zelphie liked all of the tieflings, so having Rolan be kind to her was very nice. It didn’t help that he was very handsome and had a radiating self-assurance that Zelphie was very attracted to. Not that this was any time in the world for romance. Zelphie needed to find a cure for herself and her friends. It also wasn’t exactly like her to get wrapped up in romance. Besides, Rolan was meant for Baldur’s Gate, Zelphie was meant for Moonrise Towers in Reinwith. Though, fun was what parties were for, weren’t they?

‘I’m sure you’re happy that the road is now clear for you and them to go to Baldur’s Gate,’ she said and he nodded.

‘Soon the three of us will be living the life I have worked so very hard for us to have. Lorroakan will see my talent quickly and be honored to have me studying under him,’ he said and Zelphie’s face faltered a little. Yes, Lorroakan, she knew him rather well. 

‘You know Rolan, it’s good to have a sponsor in Baldur’s Gate, they don’t exactly love tieflings there,’ she said and Rolan’s eyebrow lifted.

‘Oh? It can’t be worse than anywhere else,’ he said and she nodded.

‘You’re correct, it could be worse…but tieflings in Baldur’s Gate are seen as…exotic? And Lorroakan is not exactly a gentle man,’ she said, Rolan’s brow furrowing.

‘As if a sorcerer could possibly understand the hard work a wizard like Lorroakan has put in to get him in the position he is in,’ he sneered and Zelphie’s tail thumped on the ground. That friendly rapport did not last long.

‘You don’t know Lorroakan, Rolan. I happen to and-‘

‘Oh, as if he would deign himself to know a common storm sorcerer,’ Rolan said and sipped his wine. Zelphie stared at him and sighed.

‘Fine. You have fun with your new master, all the luck to you,’ she said and turned on her heel. That had not been worth it at all.

—————

Sorcerous Sundries, like everything else in Baldur’s Gate, stayed as busy as ever. After two months of relaxing and healing, Zelphie was back in the shop, carrying the little one in a papoose on her chest. He was an incredibly well behaved baby, but with his volatile magic, Zelphie was very nervous about leaving him. He had singed her hair that morning, only a little, but enough to make her nervous. He was making the customers very happy, however. Tiefling or not, a little baby could always brighten the mood. It also helped with problem customers, no one could yell at a new mother holding her infant. Her little one truly was making the shop a lovely place.

‘Oh! Look at the little pup,’ an older woman cooed just as she was about to ask Zelphie for her help. Zelphie smiled at her, holding the baby’s bottom. ‘How old?’

‘Two months, already giving me grief,’ she said and the woman grinned.

‘Oh, but it’s all worth it, eh? My little one had his first little one about six months ago, treasure the pain with the joy, it goes in the blink of an eye either way.’ Zelphie smiled softly at the woman.

‘I will try my best, in between naps,’ she responded and the woman smiled. ‘Now, how can I help you?’ That continued throughout the day, only to be interrupted by Rolan, who took a second shift with the little one.

‘Come here you, my little acorn,’ Rolan said affectionately. The four of them had a lot of nicknames for the baby. Sprite, acorn, bumble, sparky, banshee, all sorts of names from his parents, aunt and uncle. Uncles, to be fair, Astarion had slipped into the role very smoothly. Rolan had relented, his brother had been enamored with the elf for almost as long as Rolan had been with Zelphie. It was only logical. Rolan just wanted peace in his family, which was growing quickly. It now meant that Astarion stayed in the tower very frequently. Astarion usually referred to the baby as a little devil, affectionately of course. Rolan liked the name acorn, as in only two months, the little one was growing quickly. His tail grew, as did his cheeks, a black hair was growing on his head and around his horns, if you could call them that. Zelphie felt cold now that the baby was handed off, but she kissed his cheek as Rolan took their baby.

‘Have fun with daddy,’ Zelphie said and Rolan smiled. ‘I’m going for a little lunch, I’ll be back quickly for your turn,’ she said and Rolan’s tail curled around her leg.

‘Please, take your time, relax, don’t inhale your food, we’ll be fine,’ he told her and she smiled, nodding. She wouldn’t take her time, but she knew she would be scolded if she was too quick. She walked upstairs to the portal, Rolan letting her leg free.

Time would continue to fly by. The old woman had been correct, for Zelphie, it was going much too quickly. Months crept up on her and soon her little bundle was sitting up on his own. They had named him Meil. It was very close to the Abyssal word for quick. And quick he was. Anytime any adult had their back turned, he was off. That wouldn’t be too much of a problem if only he wouldn’t constantly light things on fire or shove foreign objects into his mouth or headbutt the walls. He was also incredibly wiggly. Rolan considered himself very lucky to have a tail, changing the little one’s diaper was almost impossible.

‘You are going to age me,’ Rolan said one morning after a long nappy change. Meil had Rolan’s tail in his mouth, just gnawing on it. He was a very cute baby, lucky little thing. 

‘That’s my job, Meil, don’t take that from me,’ Zelphie said as she was pinning her hair up. Zelphie felt very lucky, of course since the birth of her son she had been very lucky. She had all the help in the world. She had an easy life, she would not trade it for anything. Rolan huffed and gently pried his tail from his son’s mouth. Meil growled a little and fussed.

‘Like a displacer kitten,’ Rolan said and lifted the little one up, placing him on the floor so he could get out some of his energy. Zelphie kept an eye on him. She knew Rolan wasn’t being reckless, but two sets of eyes on the little demon was better than one. Meil took off crawling quickly towards the washroom. That was the least dangerous place for him to go.

‘Mmmm no, worse, hellspawn,’ Zelphie said and Rolan smirked at her. He looked back down at Meil who was rubbing his horns on the threshold to the washroom. Rolan grunted and cast a mage hand and commanded it to scratch his son’s growing horns. The little one purred loudly and Zelphie’s smile grew as she looked at Rolan, who was focused on watching the mage hand relieve their son of his itching horns. Her hair was ignored as she fell further in love with her Rolan. He was a terrific father, just as she assumed he would be, but witnessing his care and affection for his son made her heart swell. She couldn’t explain the intense emotion she felt watching Rolan feed Meil, bathe him, change him or just hold him. Rolan caught her linger stare and smirked.

‘You keep staring at me like that, I’ll have to put him down for a nap,’ he told her playfully and a heat raised up in her. It had been a long while since Rolan and Zelphie had sex. Their nightly romps had not picked up since Meil was born. They had had sex since then, but it was a quick release, and that quick release happened three times since the baby was born. Zelphie was still nervous about her body, which had not fully recovered since her pregnancy. Rolan was a bit desperate for time with Zelphie, but both were tired. Tonight, tonight was different. The harvest festival in the Lower City was happening and Cal, Lia and Astarion would stay at the tower while the couple took a long night with each other. 

‘I’m just judging you while you continue to spoil him rotten,’ she said with a playful smile and looked back at her mirror to finish her hair.

‘It looks beautiful, by the way, and for a public festival, you shouldn’t worry too much,’ he said and walked over behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the small amount of skin that was exposed with his thumbs. A shiver ran through her and she placed a pin to keep a lock of hair in place. ‘And don’t make it too elaborate, we wouldn’t want to end our night with me figuring out a puzzle,’ he said and dipped down, kissing the skin behind her ear. She sighed softly and shook her shoulders.

‘Go away or I’ll do that to you in public later,’ she told him and he chuckled. He gave her shoulders and a squeeze and turned to look at Meil, who was chewing on the mage hand. He was just staring and drooling. Rolan walked back over to the baby and grunted as he knelt down.

‘Give your aunt and uncles hell for us tonight,’ he told the little one who cooed at his father. ‘Especially the pointy uncle,’ he continued and Meil stared up at Rolan. ‘Oh, I’m going to have a rough night, leaving him,’ Rolan said and Zelphie stood up and walked over to her husband. Meil squealed when he saw his mother. He had forgotten his father’s mage hand and grunted at his mother, who smiled at him.

‘I know, my love, but it’s good for him, and he will be safe as can be here at home, where three pairs of eyes and arms will keep him safe and happy and loved,’ she told Rolan and leaned up to kiss Meil’s cheek. She smacked her lips on his cheek a few times and the baby screamed loudly with joy and moved his head to kiss his mother. Zelphie laughed as she was slobbered on. ‘Oh my little imp, you save those smiles for Aunt Lia,’ she said and looked up at Rolan. Rolan looked down at her and smirked.

‘You are slick with drool,’ he said and Zelphie laughed and wiped the side of her mouth.

‘I’ll make sure you end up like this by the end of the night,’ she told him and Rolan’s eyes opened wide and Zelphie giggled. Oh tonight, she would take care of him. As much as she could give, he would have. He pursed his lips and looked down at his son.

‘Time for us to go,’ he said and Zelphie laughed. Meil was handed off to Lia, and Zelphie had to genuinely pull Rolan’s hand to get him to stop listing everything that Lia and Cal already knew. About his new found love for chewing, what to do if he cried a certain way. Please make sure he is fed right before bed, if he’s not in his crib, do not feed him. Meil was a little handful, but he wasn’t a complicated baby, Rolan was just a hen. Lia scolded her brother and Zelphie pulled her husband out the door before Meil started crying. 

Rolan and Zelphie took down through The Wide and to the Lower City. Usually adverse to touching anyone for any reason in public, Rolan surprised Zelphie by putting his arm around her shoulder, his hand firmly guiding her and making sure they stayed together in the thick crowd of people. It appeared the entire city was out and about at that moment, as the sun began to set under the sea.

‘Ah! Here we are,’ Rolan said in great relief. He walked Zelphie over to a wine stand. Zelphie just laughed, of course the very first thing Rolan would dash towards out in public would be liquid courage. Sassy, haughty Rolan would be on the menu that evening. The couple chose wine goblets full of a wine from Candlekeep, a sweet strawberry wine, and of course the most expensive. So Rolan would have that one. ‘Well, now I’m satisfied,’ he said playfully and took a sip of his wine. Zelphie giggled and sipped her wine, it was very sweet and refreshing. Much to Rolan’s tastes.

‘Aw, so no fireworks tonight for the people?’ She asked and Rolan grinned.

‘Only if they beg,’ he told her softly and she laughed and the two took off. The wine was a little strong, strong enough that as they walked, Zelphie pointed at a few stalls and as she yammered about a certain herb that had become very popular, Rolan’s tail curled around hers.

‘But if it’s not broken, I say don’t fix it! People are obsessed with wispweed for burns, but cutting them incorrectly and using them for burns could do more harm than good! Now sales for wispweed is skyrocketing-‘ she rambled but felt Rolan’s tail and was stopped quickly. She glanced over at him and he was just smiling at her. Zelphie felt her face get warm and she bit her bottom lip. He just kept eye contact with her, a cocky little smirk on his lips as he sipped his wine.

‘Go on, my love,’ he told her and she giggled a little and fixed a lock of hair behind her hair. Was her husband’s flirting making her nervous? Yes it was, he never flirted with her in public, touching her tail as well? That was scandalous for Rolan. Even though she had known him for quite a while and had been married to him for almost a year, this little flirting was making her feel butterflies in her stomach. Rolan liked hearing her speak about what she knew, she was very decent at alchemy. He liked how intelligent she was, he liked hearing her be so passionate about something. 

‘Well, I mean, you understand, as someone who sells potions from time to time how…bizarre it is when a trend begins,’ she said and sipped her wine, stammering a bit and he chuckled and his smile got wider. He liked seeing her like this, silly over him. 

‘I do,’ he said simply and she giggled again and she nudged him.

‘I can’t talk to you right now,’ she said and he laughed and the couple continued their walk.

‘Did you always come to this festival?’ Rolan asked and she nodded.

‘I used to work during the festival. Harvest or not, the shop had a stand, waiting for the rich with their coin purses full, or if a farmer got lucky with sales and wanted to give their spouse a little treat, we would be there,’ she said and Rolan raised an eyebrow at her. She didn’t talk about her previous occupation at all. It was funny to hear her talk about it, almost so fondly. ‘I loved working the festival, no…extra duties,’ she said and Rolan frowned. She glanced up at him. ‘I mean to be lighthearted here, it was a huge relief for me to not have to be in the shop,’ she told him and he didn’t seem glad about that.

‘I just don’t understand it, I just…I can’t. And we shouldn’t talk about it here and now, but I don’t think I ever will understand what you went through,’ Rolan said and sipped his wine.

‘How about Elturel? I’m sure your harvest days were grander,’ she said, easily changing the topic and Rolan grinned.

‘Every event was! The night never came, people stayed for hours and hours, nothing ever closed. It was fun,’ he said and smirked. ‘Cal and Lia would really enjoy themselves, all the food, the fun games and events. They used to be very cute, if you’d believe it,’ he said and Zelphie grinned. 

‘I am very happy to think of you as a big brother,‘ she said and he chuckled.

‘I am still a big brother,’ he told her and she giggled.

‘I know, but you know, teenaged Rolan watching over his little tot siblings is very cute, no wonder you are a natural with Meil,’ she said and he blushed and shook his head.

‘Well, it…it has felt rather natural,’ he said with a cocky grin and Zelphie���s smile matched his. He had a right to be cocky. He was a fantastic father, loving and mindful of their little hellion. She was incredibly grateful for him. She knew in her soul Rolan would be a great father, but there was a fear she had always had while pregnant. She had known partners to get overwhelmed and leave. She knew in her heart that was never something Rolan was capable of, but paranoia wasn’t rational. She still considered herself lucky and wouldn’t take advantage of her luck. ‘It is incredibly hard, but…everything I do feels…right,’ he said and Zelphie took his hand. Another little spark of excitement when he squeezed her hand. She sipped her wine as they continued their way down the street.

Zelphie was distracted once more. There was a fabric stall and a color lured her in like a hypnotic spell, a bright aquamarine cotton and she promised Rolan she would be right back, she only wanted to look. She wasn’t really intended to buy anything, not for herself anyway. Though, maybe Lia would like something in that color? Rolan let her go off and took the opportunity to refill his goblet. Zelphie looked at the fabric, very happy to just look and pair it with a gold lace lying next to it. She could make something very pretty for Lia with this. Maybe there was a yellow and she could fix something for Cal as well? But if she found something for Cal, surely Astarion needed something, he looked divine in navy blue. Zelphie’s mind continued to wander until she was interrupted.

‘Zelphie?’ 

Everything thought in Zelphie’s head shut off, as if they were a snuffed out torch in a dark cave. That voice. She hadn’t heard that voice in over a year. Memories flushed back into her, washing over her and leaving her feeling nauseous. She turned slowly, hoping it was just a coincidence, maybe this voice was a regular at the shop. No, it couldn’t be him. Barelor Jodan. A half elf warlock who had a hyperfixation on the Infernal and demonic. Lucky him. Long straight brown hair and the palest blue eyes anyone had ever seen. He was incredibly tall and slender. He was an old ‘client’ of Zelphie’s.

‘It is you, by the hells you are looking…divine,’ he told her cooly. ‘Forgive the pun.’ Zelphie would have fainted, she would have liked to have fainted. At least then she wouldn’t have to have this interaction. She stared at him, not a sound coming from her, as if she were dueling with a viper. He took a step closer and Zelphie’s tail dropped, the tip curling around her ankle in fear.

‘I…I uhm…’ she stammered, not sure why she was talking. She had nothing to say to him. He was cruel and vicious. She wanted very much to run and hide.

‘Oh, my cinnamon, don’t stammer, I know you’ve always found me devastatingly beautiful, but you sound like a cod,’ he said and reached his hand out to her cheek. Zelphie stepped back. Barelor’s thin eyebrow arched and her reaction. He then laughed. ‘Oh! I forgot, that mindflayer fetai broke that silly little brain of yours,’ he said and smirked.

‘Excuse me.’

Rolan, thanks the heavens and hells all at once. Zelphie eyes moved behind Barelor. Rolan stood directly behind the elf. Barelor slowly turned to look at Rolan, who was looking incredibly displeased. His tail whipped quickly behind him. Barelor just looked down at Rolan, who stepped closer to Zelphie and took her hand. He felt her shaking. 

‘Oh, no, no, I’m was talking with our little friend, saer, don’t be rude tiefling,’ Barelor said and Rolan looked back up at her.

‘It sounded more like you were talking at her,’ Rolan said quickly and glanced up at the elf. He moved to walk Zelphie away but Barelor boldly grabbed her other hand. Zelphie stayed upright, but she blacked out. She couldn’t speak, she would be led easily by Rolan. Rolan turned around and got in between Barelor and Zelphie. Zelphie’s shaking hand in the elf’s relaxed enough for it to drop by her side.

‘Touch my wife again, and I will send you into the Chionthar,’ Rolan sneered, his voice deep and low. Barelor snorted and flipped a lock of hair over his shoulder.

‘Your wife? Ha! Tieflings are exactly as I thought. Willing to eat whatever scraps others leave behind,’ he said with a laugh in his voice. Zelphie placed her hand on Rolan’s shoulder. It was a little too late. No magic in a crowd. Rolan reeled back and hit his knuckles to Barelor’s jaw, hard. Zelphie gasped and pulled Rolan back as Barelor held his face.

‘You apologize to her. Have you absolutely no respect? She’s the Mistress of Ramazith’s Tower, Hero of Baldur’s Gate! You have no right to touch her, no right to talk to her like that!’ Rolan continued, losing his demeanor completely.

‘Rolan, Rolan I want to go,’ Zelphie begged him. She wasn’t in her own mind, her body was buzzing with anxiety. The handful of people who caught the punch seemed like a million eyes on her. Rolan looked back at her and sighed. She wasn’t looking at him, just off.

‘Inveniam viam.’

A blue mist covered Zelphie’s eyes and she held onto Rolan, her claws digging into his robes. Immediate guilt washed over her. She had ruined their night. Guilt, along with the terror she was feeling in her heart and stomach and she broke down sobbing. They were at the threshold of the Upper and Lower cities, the furthest place Rolan could get them. Rolan held her close.

‘Did he hurt you?’ He asked her and she shook her head. Once more, people were staring.

‘I want to go home.’ She pleaded again and Rolan walked her up the long hill as she shook and sobbed and tried to steady her mind. Rolan held her close, his thumb rubbing her arm as they finally made their way to the tower. Once inside, Zelphie’s hyperventilating cries got more intense. She could breathe, but with the sounds she was making, Rolan was concerned that she couldn’t.

‘Zelphie, Zelphie, breath. Nothing else is the world matters, you must breath,’ he said holding her face in his hands.

‘Rolan, I can’t,’ she heaved and Rolan shook his head. She was having an anxiety attack, something Rolan was familiar with. He had never seen Zelphie like this, but he was prone to them, usually at night.

‘I’m not here, just your lungs. You breathe. In and out,’ he ordered her calmly, but firmly. ‘Close your eyes.’ He said and she was able to do that. ‘I’m in control, let go. I have you. All you need to do is breathe.’ He told her and she tried, getting overwhelmed by his orders. She felt as though her chest cavity was going to cave in.

‘I can’t.’

‘You already are.’

‘Rolan.’

‘What color are my eyes, Zelphie?’ He asked softly and Zelphie pictured Rolan’s face in her mind instantly. She was still shaking, but in that instant, her mind wasn’t reeling with the events at the fair. Just Rolan’s face in a dark void. She lived in silence for a moment. ‘Zelphie, what color are my eyes?’

‘Gold.’ Rolan paused at her answer, he had yellow eyes, but he wouldn’t disagree with her. This wasn’t a test, it was a method to ground her.

‘Mmmmm and what about Meil? What color eyes does he have?’

Suddenly, in her mind, Zelphie was on the balcony outside of Meil’s room, in a nightgown, cradling her son. She was making small sparks appear from her fingers to amuse him. He was staring so adamantly at her fingers.

‘Gold, like his father. Exactly like you.’

‘Rolan? What’s happening? Why are you-‘ Zelphie felt Rolan’s hand leave her face for a moment. She didn’t hear Lia come in. Rolan stopped his sister from moving, from speaking. She had heard the door and came down to see Zelphie sobbing and Rolan huddled close to her. Zelphie felt his hand on her cheek once more.

‘Yes, very good. How about Lia’s eyes? What color eyes does Lia have?’

‘Orange, like mine,’ Zelphie answered softly. She had calmed down considerably. 

‘You are fantastic. Now let out a nice breath for me.’ Zelphie did as he asked and let out a shaking breath, but it felt very good. She wasn’t crying anymore. She opened her eyes slowly to see Rolan. Yes, gold eyes, that was right. They were deeper than yellow. He smiled at her. ‘I didn’t tell you to open your eyes, very naughty,’ he said and Zelphie smiled a little.

‘I’m so sorry Rolan,’ she whispered to him and he shook his head.

‘If you apologize for all of that, I’m not going to listen to you. Do you feel better?’ He asked her and a she shook her head.

‘What happened?’ Lia continued and Rolan sighed and looked at her.

‘Zelphie had a fright, but she’s fine now, she’s safe at home.’

‘Rolan punched a man,’ Zelphie blurted out. She couldn’t help it. Lia gasped. She felt her eyes stinging again with tears. ‘Rolan, I can’t believe…he’s a dangerous man, Rolan…you-you shouldn’t have done that,’ she said, her emotions getting the best of her. Rolan cursed and looked at Lia.

‘Go away,’ he ordered her. He didn’t mean to be short with Lia, but she wasn’t helping. Lia nodded and left the entrance room and Rolan put his eyes back on Zelphie. ‘It’s done, it’s done, my darling, it’s over. I don’t care how dangerous he is, we are safe. You are safe, I am safe, Meil is safe. We’re all safe now,’ he said and Zelphie shook her head and cried into her husband’s chest. He held her tight, his jaw resting on her horn. ‘Oh my Zelphie, I hate that you’re so frightened,’ he told her. She just continued to cry. She knew she was safe, but she didn’t want to stay locked in the tower. She wasn’t sure if Barelor would come after her or Rolan. Maybe someone would write another article about Rolan’s outrage once more. What it did really bring up in her was the fear that in Baldur’s Gate she wasn’t safe from clients like Barelor. Some she wouldn’t fear if she saw again. Most she would, most were violent maniacs. This was her city, she had to feel safe. She would. Today wouldn’t repeat itself, it couldn’t.

‘I’m sorry, Rolan,’ she sobbed and she felt his warm hands on her back, rubbing circles to calm her down.

‘Shhh…’ it was all he would say. She didn’t need to apologize, but he could only say that to her so many times. Unfortunately, before she calmed down, another crying was heard from the tower, Meil. Rolan tensed up and Zelphie lifted her head. Rolan cursed again and Zelphie loosened herself from Rolan’s grip. ‘Zelphie, Lia will get him,’ he told her and she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said simply and ran up a flight of stairs to tend to her baby. Zelphie knew that Lia or Cal would be able to help him, but in her fear and vulnerability, she selfishly needed to see her son. Maybe if she could make him stop crying, she would feel better. Rolan followed her slowly, knowing she would be stubborn about it. Not allow a mother to tend to her baby? He wasn’t an idiot. 

Zelphie made it to the third floor and walked very quickly to Meil’s nursery. He was crying in there and no one else was around. Maybe Lia told the other two they were home and she was upset. It didn’t matter. She opened the nursery door and stopped when she saw what was happening. Astarion had the baby in his arms, humming and swaying him gently. Zelphie had been hyperventilating, crazed and frightened, but to see her friend being so gentle with her son, she stopped completely. Astarion caught her gaze and tilted her head.

‘Come home early to ruin my fun time with the banshee?’ He asked her playfully and she walked into the nursery. Meil saw his mother and reached for her. She took her baby boy quickly and held him tight.

‘Oh my little imp, shh..shh…’ she said and swayed like Astarion had been, but with deeper dips. 

‘What in the world are you doing here so early? And…why are you crying? What happened?’ Astarion asked and Zelphie sighed.

‘It’s incredibly complicated, I’ll tell you, but…later,’ she said and smothered her son’s face in kisses. He moaned, but his sobbing was calmed. Rolan entered the nursery. Astarion looked up at Rolan and raised an eyebrow.

‘I’m not to be angry with him, am I?’ He asked Zelphie who scoffed and shook her head.

‘No, like always, he is my hero, oh you little demon, shhhh…’ she said, holding her son close.

‘When did he last eat?’ Rolan asked Astarion, who shrugged.

‘I don’t know, I just woke up, Cal and Lia are elsewhere, I just walked in.’ Zelphie smirked up at Astarion.

‘Quite the instinct,’ she said and Astarion frowned at her. She smiled at him.

‘I hated that,’ Rolan muttered. He wasn’t in any mood to think of Astarion as a doting father, and not the implications that brought to light. Would he be happy for Cal to have the same joy he found in fatherhood? Of course. But with an immortal? It just wreaked devastation. He didn’t want to think about it. ‘I’ll fetch him a bottle,’ he said and turned as Meil seemed to calm down considerably. Astarion waited a beat before looking back at Zelphie.

‘I can smell your heart racing, what is going on?’ He asked her and she sighed.

‘We have a lot in common, you and I. Of course, my past can’t compare to yours but the…nature of my past occupation was similar,’ she said and sighed. Astarion frowned at her words.

Zelphie told Astarion in the quickest way possible what her old employer forced her into. She was careful with how she worded everything around Astarion, as Astarion quite literally had no choice in his actions. Zelphie just felt forced to. She had taken an opportunity for money and stability that hurt her emotional and physical wellbeing. Astarion listened, not incredibly happy with this new revelation, but he was happy Zelphie was no longer in that position. Just as relieved as he was not being in his old position. Zelphie would spend the rest of her night talking to Rolan about all of this. She had been dismissive of this subject a few times with him, but she owed him a better explanation now that it was affecting him. Rolan had returned and Astarion left the nursery. Rolan took Meil in his arms, giving Zelphie a break. 

‘So, I think you and I should talk,’ Rolan spoke to Zelphie once Meil was in his crib. Zelphie was undressing and she nodded. How did she explain this to Rolan? It was easier with Astarion because Astarion could empathize. Though, maybe Rolan could too, in a way.

‘Do you remember when we first met, how many times I tried to warn you off of your apprenticeship with Lorroakan?’ Zelphie began, pulling on a silk night dress and walking to their bed to sit next to Rolan. He was under the covers with a book, waiting for her to climb in.

‘Very well, yes,’ he told her and she grabbed oil from the nightstand for her horns.

‘Well, I didn’t know how cruel he would be to you, I only knew how cruel he had been to me,’ she said and Rolan’s eyebrow raised. ‘Him and many others were given permission by Mayleen Starheart to do as they pleased with me. The exotic hellspawn will tend to your every need,’ she continued and sighed. ‘And Lorroakan? Well, he had enough money that she would just send me to this very tower to earn a hefty tip from him,’ she was attempting to be honest and straightforward. Rolan was miserable, but he was glad to finally clear the air about this.

‘He? Lorroakan…he…’ Rolan was trying to find the words at all. His brain was truly trying to focus on not imagining that damned human even touching Zelphie.

‘He assaulted me,’ Zelphie finished for him and he closed his eyes, shutting his book. ‘He was incredibly unkind, but as were most everyone who took advantage of my employer’s offer. Day in day out, as I was attempting to perfect my craft, I would be interrupted by them any moment and then she would scream at me for not finishing my actual work,’ she said and sighed, looking down at her oil. ‘I don’t know why I kept all that from you. Only because it’s unpleasant to think of and I don’t want to ever sour your mood. And I never thought I had to…but seeing Barelor today…it was as if the only thing on my body that was working was my heart and that was trying to explode. I didn’t predict I could ever….freeze up like that,’ she said and Rolan opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘Is that what it feels like? When you…?’ She asked and Rolan nodded slowly.

‘Like everything in the world is buzzing around you, but you are completely paralyzed with fear? That your body can’t move and you think if you speak you will die and that the whole world wishes you would just drop dead?’ He asked and Zelphie just looked at him. That was quite the way to explain that. He wasn’t wrong. ‘Yes, that’s how it feels. You just need to let that small voice that is still you tell that louder one to ground yourself. You know what I do? What I used to do before I had you?’ He asked and she shook her head.

‘I think of my tail,’ he said and she smirked. He had tried to calm her down by getting her to name off eye colors earlier. ‘Or my hands, simple things I can easily concentrate on that won’t further trigger my urge to swallow my own esophagus,’ he told her and she nodded.

‘Hopefully I won’t need to remember that,’ she said and dropped some oil into her hands.

‘I hope so too,’ he said and leaned over to kiss her cheek. She smiled, a warm rush flowing over her. How dare he make her feel like that after such a terribly night.

‘I’m sorry I ruined our date night, maybe I can pay Cal and Lia to stay again,’ she said and Rolan chuckled.

‘Date night isn’t over, you haven’t ruined anything,’ he said, reading his book and Zelphie smiled at him, rubbing the tip of her left horn.

‘Oh really? Are you going to rut on top of your fat wife tonight?’ She asked and cleared his throat, not happy with that phrasing at all.

‘My wife is not fat.’

‘Yes I am.’

‘Zelphie, stop it.’

‘No, admit that I’m fat.’

‘Zelphie! You…’ he sighed and snapped his book shut. ‘Your body is perfect. Your body held my son for eight months, the only thing stopping me from my carnal lust over you is your current attitude,’ he snapped and she looked at him. He glanced at her.

‘Do you mean that?’ She asked softly.

‘Why cause have I ever given you to think me a liar? Of course I mean that. And you know what? I’ll prove it,’ he said and she put her oil back in her nightstand. As her back was turned to him, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. She squealed and he buried his face in her neck. ‘I’ll put another baby in you right now,’ he said softly and she gasped and whipped her head to the side to look at him. He was just staring at her through heavy lids.

‘You wouldn’t,’ she told him and he grinned. He leaned up and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him back, placing her hands on his cheek, tasting his lips and tongue. He tasted like wine.

The couple slept comfortably in each other’s arms, Zelphie moved around a lot, but Rolan kept her close. His wife required that comfort, it was the least he could do. As she had given him everything a man could ask for.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

𓆩 Progress + Life Update 𓆪

Evening beautiful goblins!

Hope everyone is doing well nearing the end of this year, which by the way is completely inase just how quick it's gone by. Seriously, it feels like it was only April last week. 😲

Giving a small update where I am with my requests and writing. Again, I'm sorry for the delay, its taking me much longer to finish requests than I had anticipated. Lately I've been staring at the screen thinking hard over scenarios for each one, before realising I have been staring for like a hour and I haven't writen any of that wicked shit down, like I just thought magic fairies were going to come along to write them all out from my head. 🧚

It all comes to that I'm unmotivaed to write, I'm too tired, or I'm distracted doing other things in my life. There's never enough time for everything sadly. Just have to plot along as the days pass. 👍

On top of all that, I'm currently looking after a orphan joey ( wallaby ) which I use to do years before, than this chance came to me again, and it's been a wild ride with the little girl, very active and never likes being alone, something I'm working on so I can release her when she's old enough. 🦘

Below is where I am with requests. 📝

⬇️ Writing Requests Queue ⬇️

Progeny | TP Soundwave x f!human reader ✔️

Firefly | RotB Bumblebee x f!human reader ✔️

Stress Release | IDW Rodimus x f!robot reader ✔️

Only Human | TP Ratchet x f!human reader ✔️

The Beasts Rabbit | TP Predaking x f!robot reader ✔️

Pet Play | TP Predaking x f!human reader ✔️

Speed of Light | TP Smokescreen x f!human reader ✔️

Hot Delight | IDW Rodimus x m!robot reader ✔️

Seeker Allure Part 2 | Starscream x Skywarp x Nova Storm x f!robot reader ✔️

Eternal Soul | IDW Rodimus x f!human reader ✔️

Darkness Lust | IDW Helex x f!robot reader ✔️

Zesty | TP Bumblebee x f!robot reader ✍️

Yearning | RotB Mirage x f!robot reader ✍️

On Break | IDW Starscream x f!robot reader ✍️

Nutrients | IDW Megatron x f!robot reader ✍️

Sweet Honey | G1 Bumblebee x f!robot reader ✍️

I'm hoping to get them finished before Christmas/New Year. After that I plan to keep requests closed for a short time so I can focus on some of my own wips that have been sitting around for months, and finally update another story on Ao3 which is well over due for that.

That's all for now. Fingers crossed I can do more progress this week. A million times over again, thank you all for oyur beautiful support and kind feedback. I love this community! ❤️

[dykesanddragons]

🌸 d&d character maker

want to make a dungeons and dragons character but don't know where to start? let's make one together!

🌿 class

to determine your character's class, use the first letter of your first name (can be any name that you go by, online or irl). randomize your subclass.

a or b: artificer

c or d: barbarian

e or f: blood hunter

g or h: cleric

i or j: druid

k or l: fighter

m or n: monk

o or p: paladin

q or r: ranger

s or t: rogue

u or v: sorcerer

w or x: warlock

y: wizard

z: multiclasser

🌿 lineage

to determine your lineage, use the day you were born!

aarakocra or kobold

aasimar or lizardfolk

air genasi or locathah

bugbear or metallic dragonborn

centaur or minotaur

changeling or orc

chromatic dragonborn or owlin

dark elf or satyr

deep gnome or sea elf

duergar or shadar-kai

dwarf or shifter

earth genasi or tabaxi

eladrin or tiefling

fairy or tortle

firbolg or triton

fire genasi or verdan

gem dragonborn or water genasi

githyanki or yuan-ti

githzerai or warforged

goblin or leonin

goliath or plasmoid

grung or astral elf

half-elf or dhampir

half-orc or reborn

halfling or simic hybrid

harengon or vampire

high elf

hobgoblin

human

kenku

hexblood

[monstersohmy]

Lanterns in the Dark: Chapter 2

Pairing: f!fairy x m!minotaur

Summary: After Rhoswen has a close call, she and Minos share their fears. Cautiously, they begin to allow themselves to care for one another

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mostly pining and fluff, references to endangered species, reference to starvation, humans are terrible

At the sound of the chimes, Minos opened the door, a little disappointed that Rhoswen wasn’t tangled in them again. The trust she’d shown in letting him untangle her at the last visit had warmed his heart and reminded him that, despite his size and past, he could be gentle and careful. That, if he couldn’t be part of this world, maybe he could be part of hers. 

As usual, she flitted around the place muttering in that ugly language scanning for curses. He patiently waited at the table looking at her softly, black eyes glossy at the idea of being cared for. 

Confident the room was clear, the pink light grew brighter through the transformation until Rhoswen stood in her human form. From the bag wrapped around her waist, she took a few tea bags and a large, heavy mug that would fit his hand and set them on the table. 

“You enjoyed the tea before, so . . . “ she faltered.  “I thought– I hope you like it.”

The glossiness in the minotaur’s eyes became tears.

“Why are you tearful?” Rhoswen caressed his cheek. Minos pushed into her delicate hand.

The acrid smell that lingered on her last time had gone, but it still plagued his mind. Minos had not been able to let it go, worrying into a near frenzy in the time since the last visit. 

“Why did you smell of blood last time?” he countered.

“A goblin tried to eat me. Got me halfway its mouth. I had to--,” her head dropped, shoulders shaking. “I had to hurt it.”

He wondered what such a tiny being could do to hurt a creature so much larger. Especially while grasped in a gnarled goblin hand and held a breath away of being devoured. How did she—

Oh. 

The spell she cast so he could hold her had been done for survival. 

Reaching out with extraordinary gentleness, he stroked her grassy hair while she shook with sobs. He had no idea how to comfort her, but took a risk and guided her to sit in his lap so she might feel safe in his arms. Her sweet face buried into his tautly muscled neck, tears joining his. 

“I’m the only one left.” The grief-stricken whisper was barely imperceptible. Minos heard it. Not just the fact. The leaden loneliness of being the only one. “I’m scared.”

 “So am I.”

“What are you afraid of?” 

“Of being that monster again. Of humans,” he paused. “Afraid of driving you away.”

Rhoswen hadn’t had a family or even a friend for so long before she’d found him near death in the forest. Everything outside was growing more dangerous. Humans were growing their settlements, slashing and burning everything in their path for new buildings and roads. Unaware or uncaring that communities and entire species were being displaced or eradicated. There was less space and too many creatures fighting for it. Fewer sources of food as well, which had driven that goblin. It was starving.

Rhoswen sobbed herself to sleep, tears running down his clavicle and chest. Minos dared not move lest he disturb her. 

“Would you walk me home tonight,  Minos?”

*

The night was clear and cool. Deepest blue sky pin pricked with stars and presided over by a blinding full moon.

Minos could barely feel the weight on his horn where Rhoswen sat as they walked through the night. He never ventured far from the cabin, fearful that he wouldn’t find it again. Fearful he would encounter humans and again become the monster they had made him. Mostly, fearful that the little fairy would be lost from his life. 

“That’s it. That rosebush.”

Thick, angry black branches coiled, armed with long thorns ready to attack. Dark, heavy red roses bloomed in abundance. Beautiful, but also a warning of the blood that would be spilt should anything other than its mistress try to disturb it. Minos deeply breathed in the scent, shivering at the richness of it. He’d thought all flowers would be beautiful and kind. These roses and their bush were violent. 

Rhoswen dropped away and fluttered to kiss his nose. 

“Boop.” 

She flew to the bush and, tucking her delicate, translucent wings close, burrowed through one of the tunnels amid the thorns that led to the innermost hollow. 

*

Cold sliced into her bones.

Rhoswen laid her head on the cotton, pulled the sweater scrap around her, and continued to shiver, the night was so cold. After a time, her body quaked trying to keep itself warm and she rolled to lay on her back in order to spy whatever pinprick stars could be seen through the raging rosebush. The freeze was so harsh and stabbing that she wondered if these would be the last stars she’d ever see.

Something rustled outside of the bush, then the stars disappeared. 

*

“Rhoswen.”

The fairy stirred, opening her eyes to pure blackness. Warm blackness. Somehow she’d made it through the freezing night.

“Rhoswen, I am taking the blanket off the bush now.”

Suddenly, sunlight seeped through the rose bush’s thick limbs and deadly thorns. Still tipsy in that half-sleep place, she stirred and sat up, trying to bring the world into focus. 

“Rhoswen.”

The voice was deep and familiar, laden with worry. 

“Minos?” Her voice was barely a whisper yet he heard. Bits of the morning sunlight streamed between the viscous branches of the rose bush. Between them, Rhoswen thought she saw shadows of a bull’s head and horns. Probably a hallucination brought on by coldfright but she crawled through the thorns anyway, hoping it was him and not a vision. 

At the end of the rosebush, the sunlight was so impossibly bright it hurt. All that was visible was searing white light and stark black shapes within it. Yet there was a warmth just ahead and she stumbled forward and fell into it. 

Minos gazed down at the little fairy collapsed in his hand. He did his best to stroke her green hair with his pinky finger until she came to, blinking. She couldn’t stay there; he might accidentally close a fist and hurt her. 

“Rhoswen, I need you to hold on.” 

He brought his hand to his shoulder and held it there until she settled against his thickly corded neck, clutching for safety. Minos retrieved the blanket he’d tossed over the rosebush and threw it around him, creating a space for Rhoswen to be safe until they arrived at the cabin and she could be properly warmed by the fire. 

[ao3feed-drastoria]

𝑺𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑨𝑹𝒀

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/k9pzimD by mochamilktea_x The First Captain had sent Hitsugaya Toshiro the 10th Squad Captain and Hase Hitomi the 3rd Seat of the 1st Squad but Hitomi's her original name was Aquila Potter the daughter of Lily Potter and James Potter to be sent to Hogwarts to investigate and interfer the mortals in World of Living. Toshiro has a crush on Hitomi. After learning her birthname with the help of the goblins. She wasn't very happy that her life is being controlled by a mere human who turned out to be the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But also meeting her parents from heaven telling her not to trust Dumbledore. Words: 25, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Bleach (Anime & Manga), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Hitsugaya Toushirou, Astoria Greengrass, Sirius Black, Regulus Black, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass & Harry Potter Additional Tags: Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy Redemption, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Regulus Black Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Female Harry x Toushirou, Ron Weasley Bashing, Good Friend Ginny Weasley, No Ginny Weasley Bashing, Molly Weasley Bashing, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Protective Minerva McGonagall, Protective Hitsugaya Toushirou read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/k9pzimD

[ashwritesmonsters]

Masterpost v2!

Please read the rules before making a request, I’d hate to disappoint anybody!

Hey, all my fellow monster fuckers lovers! Here’s the masterlist for all my stories. If I’m new to you, feel free to hit up my ask box with questions, headcanons, random stuff to chat about, or requests if they’re open!

I think it’s cool to name my stories after what role the reader assumes, so that’s what they’re named after. I’ll format my story links like this:

Title - Pairing - Citrus Rating

Here is a useful post explaining Citrus ratings.

Here is a link to my AO3

I’ll try to keep this list up to date as quickly as I can. Check under the cut for the full list, and thanks for reading! You’re awesome!

Stories

The Orchardkeeper - F!Reader x M!Minotaur - Lime [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

The Thru-hiker - F!Reader x M!Mothman - Lemon [Part 1] [Interlude] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

The Middle Prince - M!Reader x M!Tiefling - Lemon [Link]

The Skateboarder - F!Reader x F!Orc - Lemon [Link]

The Murabito - F!Reader x M!Ningyo - Lemon [Link]

Drabbles, Requests, & Drabble Requests

Werewolves and Chocolate - F!Werewolf x M!Human - Orange

Flirty M!Orc x Small Chubby Shy F!Reader - Lemon

Del Toro M!Fishman x Intimidating Jumpy F!Reader - Lemon

M!Dryad x Dom F!Reader - Lemon | [Part 2]

Gothic Vampiric M!Demon x Crass Smol F!Reader - Lemon

Body-Conscious M!Alien x Caring F!Reader - Lemon

M!Werewolf x M!Reader - Lime

Tall Manhandling GN!Reader x M!Goblin - Lime

Shy M!Satyr x Shy F!Reader - Lemon

Tsundere M!Incubus x Shy F!Reader - Orange

M!Reader x M!Illithid - Orange

Maid F!Reader x Knight F!Cyclops - Lime

Goofy!Specter x Awkward!Reader - Orange

Dom F!Reader x Subby M!Goblin - Lemon

M!Giant x F!Reader - Lemon

Anons

💜🖤💜 hearts anon

[feral-ella-flynn]

Paying the Toll, pt 2: M Troll x F Human, SFW (for now)

Part 1

Male Troll + Female Human

still SFW (so far)

2.5K/6.5K word draft

tagging @feralprose @monster-bait @apocalypticromantic666 @pre-schoolervengance @bresilienne-ami @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @dont-call-me-a-faerie @kirmalight (comment to be tagged in updates!)

I bet no one expected this to be updated! Including me! This installment is definitely not as long as I intended, because I got really hung up on details--that’s why I’m posting anyway, to get some momentum so that hopefully the third part will be both longer and not so tardy. 

Escaping a goblin raid on your village leads you to a bridge, but you have nothing to offer the troll who guards it for a toll...except yourself

You wake in darkness.  At first you aren't sure you're awake at all--it's only by touching your own eyelids that you can feel sure they're open. It seems to make no difference between the thick, pressing dark around you either way.

“Mattie?” you whisper, your voice thin and hoarse. 

There’s no answer, and understanding comes crashing down on you, like floodwater overwhelming a dam. You are not in your cramped room under the eaves of the big house, Mathilde is not sleeping on the narrow bed an armspan away–if she’s lucky, perhaps she was able to hide in the cellars or the attics, somewhere that was safe enough until the goblin raiders felt they had run out of things to raze and ravish and moved on. Or perhaps help would come, from the regiment billeted outside the market town, or from rangers who might have been near enought to see the smoke. If Mattie was unlucky….

A sob catches in your dry throat, then turns to choking dry heaves that leave you shuddering. Bile burns on your tongue. You huddle into the nest of furs, remembering now where you are and how you came to be here, naked and alone in the pitch black.

Not alone. There is the hush of leather brushing against stone, a faint musky scent. 

“Brúsi?”

“Aye.” The troll’s gravel-rough voice is low and close–you almost reach out, ready to blunder once again into his arms rather than be alone with your fears.

The scrape of flint is loud enough in the silence to make you jump. Sparks illuminate the troll, kneeling at your side, and as he coaxes the tinder to unfurl into flame you hastily wrap a fur around your bare flesh. Whatever mood made you so bold before has been banished by your nightmares.

“Is it morning?”

The troll shrugs. “Near enough.”

“Shall I–shall I make breakfast for you?” Your fingers knead anxiously in the soft nap of the pelt that you clutch closed over your chest. “What do you like for breakfast?”

The troll–Brúsi–glances at you, his head tilted in the way that is already familiar. You think it means he’s just as bewildered by your contract, and by you, as you are yourself.

“Dried goat,” he says. “Morning meal, evening meal. Unless there is a new goat.”

“Oh. Where do the goats come from?”

He shrugs. “The bridge provides.”

Well. You take a deep breath, pushing the fear and panic of the last day, of the dark dreams, down into a tight ball at the bottom of your stomach, where you can ignore it for a little while. “Does the bridge ever provide eggs?”

And so you begin your month as housekeeper to a troll. 

Your clothes are badly stained, and chilly from being spread out on the stone floor, but they're dry and you dress in them anyway, trying to ignore the scrutiny of Brúsi’s dark blue eyes as he watches you. He seems fascinated by the layers as you lace your stays over your shift, tie the strings of your petticoat, and your cheeks burn with a blush as you finally button your gown. You do your best with the tangles in your hair--letting it hide your face until your heart stops thumping in your ears before you twist it into a hasty braid. 

There are no eggs. But you take a lantern the troll indicates and follow him into another cave that serves as a store room.

“There is goat,” he says, pointing at the considerable supply of dried meat, “and other goods, if tha wish them.” His gesture at the heaps of bags, crates, jars, casks, boxes–all jumbled together and shoved to one side–is dismissive, as if there is nothing of value to be found. You stare wide-eyed at a bolt of fine silk, at the glint of gold from a carelessly overturned casket with a broken lid.

“What is all this?”

“Payment for the toll, for when there were no goats.”

“You don’t do anything with the things paid for the toll? They just sit and rot?”

He shrugs. “I butcher the goats.”

You can only shake your head, but the practicality can’t be denied–gold and silk isn’t much use in a cave, and it’s with less wonder but more delight that you find flour, oil, and salt.

Breakfast is fried bread--and goat meat.

Once the meal is prepared and cleaned away, the troll vanishes up the dark tunnel. He takes no lantern with him. He also doesn't say a word to you before he leaves, and you stand in the cave for a while, expecting him to come back with instructions, or–well, something. But he doesn’t, and  you can only twist your hands in the skirt of your gown for so long. Eventually you pick up the lantern and explore. 

There is little enough to see. Other than what you noticed when you arrived, there is an alcove that must be where the troll sleeps, on piled furs that smell musky but not unpleasant. There is the storage cave, although it seems larger than it did at first, because you realize that you can’t see the far wall before the circle of light gives way to darkness.

And then there is the tunnel entrance, where your new employer disappeared, and which presumably leads out, to--your stomach lurches at the memory of being upside down from the sky–the underside of the bridge. But perhaps that had been an illusion, and the tunnel merely led out to an opening in the bank underneath the bridge? You had been half out of your mind with fear, after all. Maybe you dreamed that part.

Maybe…maybe you could simply walk out of this tunnel, out of the dark, and walk all the way home.

Except that you agreed to a contract. And the troll did say he wouldn’t eat you, wouldn’t even touch you, which was more than any of the men at the big house ever promised...none of them had touched you, but you knew that was because you had been careful, so careful, all the time, to be invisible. 

It had helped that Mattie made it easy to fade into the background. She flaunted her pretty curls and winsome dimples, and when she sometimes crept into your shared attic room well after midnight she always had a new length of fine fabric for a dress or a necklace of amber beads to show for it. You asked once if she wasn’t afraid of falling pregnant, but she just shrugged.

“I know to be careful,” she said, and hid the coins she’d gotten for selling her latest bauble away beneath her bed.

Thinking of Mattie makes your eyes sting with tears, and reminds you that probably there was no home to walk back to–and if you tried, there would likely be nothing to be done there except burying the dead. You leave the tunnel entrance alone, and busy yourself with organizing the heaped goods in the storage cave.

When Brúsi returns, he brings you eggs, freshly laid and nested in a straw packed basket. 

“They had no goat." He shrugs. 

Other than struggling to invent new ways of preparing goat meat, most of your time is spent sorting. You find all manner of things in the storage cave, from precious jewels to plain linen fabric. The gems and gold you store in caskets, and then can’t shift on your own–Brúsi laughs at you, and picks them up with one hand, arranging them neatly along one wall as you direct him. You stack bolts of fabric, folding shorter lengths neatly into a another chest, you line up swords with gold wrapped hilts, swords with elaborately carved scabbards, swords that are short, swords that are nearly as long as you are tall, and then there are maces and axes and other things you can’t name. There’s even a pair of pistols in a tooled leather box, their handles gleaming mother of pearl. It’s more treasure than you ever imagined, and you feel that you’re in a dragon’s den instead of a troll’s cave--except that Brúsi shows little interest in the goods, except for the goat meat.

“If you don't have a use for these things, why accept them?” you asked, after the third day of sorting boxes and bundles and barrels, and still not finding the back wall of the cave. You’d found a crown, heavy and lumpy, like something out of an ancient grave, and under it a belt of bronze scales that linked together.

The troll just shrugged. “They are the toll, for the bridge. There must be a toll.”

“Then…" you bite your lip, but blurt "can I use some things?”

“If tha hast a use for them, then mayhap the bridge meant them for tha to use.”

“You make it sound like the bridge is alive,” you murmur, running your fingers over the bolts of fabric, already imagining yourself in a dress made of such soft material.

“The bridge is the bridge,” Brúsi says.

“What does that mean?”

He just shrugs.

You sigh, picking up a bolt of wool–practical, and still finer than anything you’ve ever worn. “If the bridge provides, can I give it a list? I need thread, needles, scissors, buttons…I can’t keep wearing this dress,” you gesture down at yourself. “Not without something else to wear while I wash it, at least, but I can’t make anything without supplies. And for that matter I need soap–”

Brúsi tilts his head. “Tha may always ask the bridge, but it works slowly. Simpler for tha to go to a market.”

You stare at him, your mouth falling open. “I can? I mean, is that allowed? I thought…”

He stares at you, the intense blue of his eyes unblinking, and you finally shrug. “I just thought I couldn’t leave the cave.”

“Not for long, but art not bound to the bridge as I am. Come.” He scoops a handful of coins into a pouch and leads you into the tunnel.

The ground slopes upward under your feet, and after a time there is a door before you, swinging outward. Brúsi ducks under its arch, his broad form filling the opening. When he doesn't move to let you through, you realize that he's blocking the way deliberately. Unease spikes through you.

"Is something wrong?"

"The bridge made tha sick before," he says. “Tha shouldst close thine eyes.” You squint suspiciously up at him–is he laughing at you?–but obey. You hear the rattle of his bone-decorated belt as he steps toward you, but then he stops. “I must touch tha,” he says. “Just to lift tha over the topside.”

“All right,” you whisper. You stifle a gasp as his enormous hands circle your waist, lifting you easily off of your feet, and then after a blur of motion you feel stone under you again.

When you open your eyes, you’re on the narrow stone arch of the bridge.  Your lantern flame becomes suddenly pale compared to the warm sunlight that makes you blink and squint. There is no dark and shadowed forest hemming in the river. Instead there is a road, smooth hard dirt fringed with wildflowers on either side, and the rooftops of a village in the distance.

“Where…” You look down at the bridge under your bare feet. 

“The bridge is all bridges,” Brúsi says. He holds out the leather bag of coins, and you take it, staggering a bit at the weight. “Buy whatever tha need.”

You hesitate, glancing from the troll to the road. What is there to stop you from walking away and never returning, from making a life somewhere? The bag in your hand holds more money than you had ever expected to earn in your life. There would be nothing to hold you to the bridge…except your promise.

“Tha canst not escape the bridge.” Brúsi seems to be reading your thoughts, although he’s not even looking at you. He’s gazing down at the water. “Every bridge tha sets foot on will be this bridge, until the toll is paid.”

“Of course.” The bag of coins drags at your arms, and you fumble it open, taking out a handful. “I should be able to get everything I need with these–it would be dangerous to carry all the rest of this.”

The troll frowns, glancing from you to the distant rooftops. “Danger from other humans?”

“Only if I seem to have more money than I should,” you assure him hastily. “It would get attention from the wrong kind of humans. I'll be careful.”

 The coins bite into your palm as your fingers clench unconsciously. The frown creases his forehead, not smoothed away by your reassurances, and you half expect him to shake his head and pick you up under his arm again, ready to toss you back under the bridge. 

“Please?”

 You bite your lip too late to keep the word in, but there are lazy curls of smoke rising from the distant chimneys, and you can hear the lowing of cattle nearby, the friendly chime of chapel bells...and all you can think about is cheese. Cheese, and fruit to pair it with, or potatos, perhaps. Honeycakes. Your stomach rebels at the very thought of dried goat.

Brúsi jerks his chin toward the road. “Go, then. The bridge will be waiting for tha to return.”

You hand off the sack of coins–your shoulders more than grateful to be relieved of its weight–and the troll adds it to the other oddments that dangle from his belt among the bones. He folds his arms.

The handful of coins you kept are barely enough to make your pocket sag with their weight, but you can feel them as a reassuring lump under your skirts. You run anxious hands over your hair and stained gown, smoothing uselessly at wrinkles. 

“I wish I had been able to bathe properly,” you mutter. “I look like a ragamuffin.”

But your hands and face are clean, your hair neatly tied back, and dusk is not far off, so perhaps your bare feet will not be noticed. You step from the cool stone of the bridge to the warm hardpacked dirt of the road. 

"I'll be back s--" Your voice breaks off as you glance over your shoulder. The bridge behind you is a simple one of wooden logs, straddling a stream that a child could leap across. Gooseflesh prickles the back of your neck. You hurry down the road towards the village without looking back a second time.

[princess-leaorgana]

What Tieflings Do Chpt. 9

Summary: After the takedown of The Absolute, Zelphie finds her city in need of more help and her home destroyed. She won't stop helping, but who can help her?

Rolan x Tav (Zelphie; ~30y.o AFAB, Sorcerer, Tiefling, not really described physically on purpose <3)

M/F

Author's Note: I fucking love tielfings. Along with this being a budding romance/smut/fluff/word vomit fanfiction, it's also my case study in DnD 5e tieflings, how they act, what sets them apart from humans and devils and elves. That being said, I have a few artistic liberties in here as well where I couldn't find a straight answer, if you'll amuse me.

Warnings - Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3, very fluffy chapter

Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Or Read all chapters on AO3

‘I will not gamble our lives, our futures, on people who are as good as dead! No, we must leave for Baldur’s gate at once.’

Zelphie had been so excited to see so many tieflings in one place. As horrible as the last few days had been, it was nice to have something decent happen. Off the nautiloid and onto a beach she didn’t recognize with a life altering fetus slowly chipping away at her brain. She wasn’t alone, but she was comforted to see so many of her own kin. But her problem was her priority. Her and her new band of companions needed a healer and supplies. Zelphie craved to go back home, but they found a Druid’s grove full of tieflings. Though, as she made her final trade to a halfling merchant in the grove, she couldn’t help but overhear three tieflings having an argument. She began to walk over to them, they were talking about Baldur’s Gate. She knew they would know how close they were to her home.

‘What’s the use of having spells and blades if we don’t bloody use them?!’ A woman yelled at a man, another man looked desperate to calm the other two down.

‘Could we all just take a moment, please?’ He pleaded. Zelphie felt a hand on her arm. 

‘The druid said Nettie was that way,’ Shadowheart told her and Zelphie looked back at her new companion, not really liking that she had grabbed her. She shuffled out of Shadowheart’s grasp.

‘They are going to Baldur’s Gate, they might know where on Toril we are,’ she said and walked over to the tieflings, the woman still shouting.

‘Or yell louder, that’s fine too,’ the tallest tiefling said, annoyed, but not as argumentative as the other two.

‘Did you say Baldur’s Gate?’ Zelphie cut in and the three tieflings turned to look at her. The tallest looked a little surprised, the shorter man flashed an angry look at her and the woman nodded.

‘Yes, we are meant for Baldur’s Gate, but it’s not going anywhere, so we have to stay and fight! They are kin!’ She shouted most of this at the shorter tiefling. He looked to be the oldest of the three. He looked back at the other woman and hissed.

‘They aren’t my kin, you are! We will be safe in the city! If we leave with the herd, the packs of goblins will hunt us down and make quick work of us. If just the three of us leave, we will be left alone and be free of this damnation!’ He shouted back and Zelphie looked at him. She could tell but the lines on his face he was used to fighting. The three were very clearly siblings.

‘You three are from Elturel, yes? Exiles, all of you, you should stay,’ Zelphie said and the woman smiled at her. ‘The more tieflings in one fight the better.’ The man groaned and shook his head.

‘I am not responsible for every tiefling in the damned world!’ He shot back.

‘Then just be responsible for your own tail then,’ the woman told him, pleading now. ‘We have to stay, it’s the right thing to do, and you know it, Rolan,’ she said and the man shook his head and cursed.

‘Zurghan! Fine!’ He relented and the taller man sighed out and smiled. ‘We’ll stay, if they survive, it’ll make for a good story, I guess,’ he said sarcastically.

‘Thank you, Rolan,’ the woman said and he sighed.

‘Do the three of you know the way to Baldur’s Gate? And we close?’ Zelphie asked and Rolan shot a look at her. His face was incredibly sharp, his glare could frighten a night troll.

‘Why, so you can leave? After convincing my sister that her stupid ideas have any merit?’ He asked and Zelphie frowned. ‘Shove off.’

‘Well, what a nice little group,’ Astarion sneered as Zelphie walked away from the siblings.

---------------

‘Lajy, I’m going to step on you on purpose.’

Zelphie was in her favorite place in the tower, the kitchen. She was half inclined to ask Rolan for a portal from their bedroom to the kitchen, but lo, she would have to make the walk. Eight months and a tenday did she develop in pregnancy. She slipped out of her bedroom for a light snack of lamb leg. She waddled out of the kitchen, Lajy on her heel, looking for a snack. A pregnant Zelphie was a hungry Zelphie, and Lajy would not be too far from her most days. Though, Zelphie was not as graceful as she used to be, and tripped over the eager cat a lot during the day. 

The summer months were very hot, and Zelphie had been put on bed rest due to the heat and a few early contractions but would take a quick trip around the third floor of the tower once a day to stretch her legs. She was restless, but active labor was late, and she needed to rest as much as she could stand it. She walked back to her room, her tail swishing behind her, underneath a silk robe. As she opened the door, she was confronted.

‘Hey! What are you doing up?’ 

Rolan was pointing at her, walking in the opposite direction of her. He had just come from the shop. Zelphie stared at him for a moment. She had been caught in the act.

‘Nothing,’ she said and quickly slipped inside of the bedroom and shut the door. She quickly made her way to the bed, and before she got there, Rolan was inside the bedroom.

‘Zelphie, this isn’t cute or funny, please stay in here,’ he told her, sounding exhausted. Zelphie got into bed and sighed.

‘I’m sorry Rolan, but I feel fine, but I was starving and my legs so restless, I’m going mad,’ she told him and he sighed and nodded.

‘I know, I know, I’m back from the shop now,’ he said and walked over to the balcony doors and opened the curtains. ‘Have you had any more?’ He asked her and she shrugged.

‘I had one about an hour ago, but I don’t think it was a contraction, maybe some kind of cramp,’ she said and Rolan looked at her.

‘Where was it?’ He asked, walking over to her. She rubbed under her belly, in between her hip and groin. Rolan frowned and let out a deep sigh. He was clearly having a debate in his own head.

‘What?’

‘I’m worried.’

‘You are always worried.’

‘I think we should have someone fetched,’ Rolan said and brought a hand to his face. Zelphie frowned. He was right, but she didn’t want him to be right, she was terrified. A tiefling birth was an awful occasion and her pregnancy seemed to be lingering. She felt her heart beating, knowing any cleric worth their salt would have her induced, and that made her terrified. Zelphie just nodded and looked down at her belly. She was massive, or at least that is how she felt. How was this giant baby supposed to come out of her? Rolan felt his wife’s tension and sat on the bed next to her.

‘I’m not going anywhere, you’re not alone, alright?’ He asked her and her heart only beat faster and she frowned. She was very close to crying. ‘Hey, hey, I know. If I could take this from you, you know that I would. And I’m terrified too, but you have been through so much worse. Can I tell you something about the war with the Absolute that I never told you?’ He asked and she nodded, desperate to be distracted with anything else. He stood up and opened his side table drawer for parchment and a quill. He began writing a quick message. ‘I was here, up by the cannons, watching that humongous brain. Gods, I was barely holding on, knowing you were up there,’ he said and took the parchment, shaking it to let the ink dry. ‘I prayed to Mystra, I prayed to Tyr and Helm, I even prayed to my mother that you would make it. And then I watched it fall from the sky into the Chionthar...Zelphie, until Lia came to me that night, I thought you were dead,’ he said and Zelphie tilted her head. ‘When Lia told me you were in the tower taking a bath I almost fainted. I don’t think I had ever been so relieved in my life. I know that will be the worst pain I’ll feel in a long time, because today is different. You’re going to make it and at the end of today, you will have our child in your arms,’ he told her as he folded the letter up and walked back to the balcony, disappearing for a moment. When he returned, Zelphie was just staring at him.

‘How could you possibly be so sure?’ She asked him and he smiled a little.

‘Because, you are my wife and I demand my wife be safe,’ he said and she choked out a little sob. That was stupid. He sat back down on the bed and took her hand. ‘I need all of your energy today to keep what is most important in this world safe, alright,’ he told her and she nodded, sniffling and crying. ‘I will do the same, the only thing on this planet that matters today is my darling, nothing else, no one else,’ he continued and she squeezed his hand tight and rubbed her belly. 

Everything had gone very quickly. Their cleric had returned for a home visit and Zelphie was given a rancid potion to drink and her belly was massage with a hot oil that reeked. All to induce the birth. About two hours after the potion was drunk, Zelphie had a contraction. From then on, she was in bed, hands and knees on the mattress, only focusing on breathing and pushing when she was told to push. Only Zelphie, Rolan and their cleric were present, Zelphie hated that she couldn’t have Cal or Lia present, but this was a very vulnerable position and she could barely handle hearing Rolan and their cleric speak. Every little thing was irritating to her. About four hours into active labor, Zelphie’s irritation grew and the room became a little dangerous to be in. When any sorcerer was in unbelievable pain or distress, their magic was less controlled, less predictable. Zelphie shot ice in Rolan’s direction twice, and while he held her hand she electrocuted him. He was alright, but it was truly best for as few people to be in the room as possible.

Eight and a half hours of labor, a tiny tiefling was born on Ramazith’s Tower. Baldur’s Gate had one more tiefling in its charge. A male tiefling with a little stumpy tail, little bumps on his forehead and bright yellow eyes. He was horrifically loud, but once he was in his mother’s arms, she held him close. Zelphie was exhausted, humiliated and in a pain she had never felt before, but praise the gods, was she elated. She held her crying baby, crying tears that she had been crying earlier, but now from joy and relief. It was over, and now she was holding him, her little baby.

‘Oh…oh my darling,’ Rolan was a mess. He was crying as well, he had sweat almost as much as Zelphie and he was also in pain. Not as much as Zelphie, but because of Zelphie. He was down to a shirt and his trousers. He knelt one knee on the bed to get a good look at his son. His son. He was ready to implode. He couldn’t believe it, this little baby was his. He kissed the side of Zelphie’s head and pressed her forehead to her temple.

‘Congratulations,’ the cleric spoke, the poor woman. She had done a brilliant job and took a lot of the brunt of the couple’s fright and worry and anger. Rolan pried his eyes from his wife and son and walked over to the cleric. ‘Not my first tiefling birth, but absolutely the most successful,’ she said, clearly a little proud of herself. She walked over to Zelphie and the baby. ‘How do you feel my dear?’ She asked Zelphie, who laughed loudly.

‘I have no idea!’ She cried and looked down at her little one, who was settling down. ‘Everything hurts, but my heart, my heart is so full and close to breaking, I couldn’t possibly explain,’ she said and just kept her eyes on the baby. ‘Oh yes, yes yes, everyone can hear you, my heart, shhh…’ she cooed and the cleric grinned. The joy in the room was contagious.

‘Yes, yes, your joy is palpable, my dear,’ she said softly. ‘Are you in any pain?’ She asked and Zelphie nodded, but was hypnotized by her little bundle. The cleric waited a moment and laughed a little nervously. ‘Where, dear?’ She asked, but Zelphie wasn’t hearing anything. The baby had calmed down and she was taking him in. His eyes were closed, but his little mouth was open, his fists rubbing his ruddy little cheeks. He was a little paler than his father, no hair to be noted, not yet. What would he look like in a few months? Who would he resemble in a year? ‘Miss?’ The cleric called out and Rolan placed a hand on Zelphie’s shoulder and she was taken out of her state.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry…I uhm…well...my…hips hurt and everything between them, but nowhere near how they hurt an hour ago,’ she said and glanced up at Rolan. She felt like she was dreaming, she didn’t feel real. The cleric smiled and nodded.

‘Good, good, I will leave you with my bag, please let me know if there is anything I can do. Bathe in the next hour, if there are any new secretions, please contact me, but it looks as though all you need is privacy,’ she said and Rolan smiled at her.

‘I’ll walk you out, my brother, who I am sure is right outside will take care of our bill,’ he said and held out his arm, walking the cleric to the door. Zelphie went right back to her little one.

‘Oh! Damn me, before I leave, what is the name for the little one?’ The cleric said and Rolan cocked an eyebrow at her.

‘Uhm…just to…register him? We don’t have a name for him, probably won’t for a while,’ he said and the cleric nodded.

‘Right, I apologize, when one comes to you, you will need to find me again.’ Tiefling names were incredibly important, and babies usually weren’t given an official name until a personality showed itself, and even then, their name might change as they grew. Zelphie wasn’t named Zelphie at birth. Rolan had always been Rolan, but his parents didn’t name him until he was toddling. ‘Rolanson then, just for the paperwork,’ she said and Rolan’s tail tense led a little. Zelphie wasn’t hearing a word of the conversation. She didn’t notice the door open or hear Cal and Lia. She could only see her baby and hear her baby. He was like a narcotic. She leaned down, kissing his forehead and he squirmed at the new touch. Everything was new for him. Zelphie heard a happy shout from the hallway but didn’t look up. She wanted to memorize the little one. She didn’t even know she was still crying. Someone could have come to clip her ear and she wouldn’t care. She felt Rolan sit next to her once more on the bed. She felt his lips on her temple once more and she sobbed again.

‘Ohh….shhh…by every god in the pantheon, you did so wonderfully,’ Rolan whispered. ‘I am in such awe of you, look what you did,’ he continued and Zelphie continued to cry and looked up at Rolan. He wrapped an arm around her and pressed his forehead to hers. ‘You’re a miracle worker, no magic can surpass what you have given me today, nothing, nothing known to this plane can compare,’ he said and she nodded.

‘I love him so much,’ she sobbed and Rolan chuckled. He rubbed her back and kissed her softly.

‘Oh my darling….you're going to make him and me cry,’ he said softly with a little laugh. ‘Shhhh…’ he continued to rub her back. ‘Oh my darling,’ he whispered and peppered her face with kisses, being as gentle and loving as he could. Rolan looked at his son and smiled. ‘You have been here for fifteen minutes, and you’re already upsetting your mother,’ he said and Zelphie laughed. Rolan reached over, his hand shaking a little and he cupped his son’s cheek. Zelphie watched Rolan, watching his expression change from sweet to terrified.

‘Do you want to hold him?’ She asked and Rolan looked at her and just held eye contact with her. He was hesitant and Zelphie smiled. ‘He’s not heavy,’ she teased him and he sighed.

‘That’s the problem,’ he said and Zelphie lifted her arms, holding the baby’s head in her hand to hand him over to Rolan.

‘Just hold his little bottom and head, you’ve read enough, time to practice,’ she said and moved to hand the baby to Rolan. Rolan tensed up, but took the bundle. ‘There we are,’ she said and Rolan frowned when the baby grunted. ‘Shhh, he’s fine, everything is new for him, oh…’ she said and sat back and looked at Rolan. He was stiff as a statue, terrified of moving too much or hurting the baby, but Zelphie felt a warm rush run through her. What a beautiful portrait in front of her, Rolan holding their son. ‘Oh Rolan,’ she leaned up and kissed his cheek and rested on his shoulder. ‘You look good with a baby in your arms,’ she said and looked back down at the babe. She felt Rolan relax a little. Her tail reached up and pushed the baby’s blanket over his round belly.

‘My son,’ Rolan whispered and Zelphie looked up at him.

‘Your son,’ she said softly, feeling incredibly proud.

‘You gave me a son…I…’ Rolan shook his head and swallowed. ‘I don’t mean…I mean he’s just…he’s mine, ours, yours, mine, I can’t wrap my head around this,’ he said and she laughed softly. She was terribly happy. Rolan looked down at her with a frown. ‘What if he looks like me?’ He asked and Zelphie laughed loudly. He had asked it as if he was worried that their son would look like him. That was absolutely ridiculous. Zelphie had instantly been attracted to Rolan’s beauty, the moment she saw him and she had mentioned that to him. How Rolan didn’t think he was attractive was beyond her. He had pretend conceit in the past, but clearly he didn’t believe his own compliments. Rolan was dashing, just as he would say.

‘Rolan! He will be very lucky to look exactly like you,’ she said and he frowned. ‘Yes, just like that, but look at him. He’s the most beautiful little thing in the world, you hush,’ she said and looked back down at their son. He was a little scrawny looking, and would grow into his face soon enough, but a mother’s love was blinding to any objective defects in beauty. ‘Oh I could eat him,’ she said and Rolan snorted.

‘He is very…cute,’ he said and smiled. He touched his son’s little fist and then looked at Zelphie again. ‘Let me sit him down in his cradle and run you a bath,’ he said and Zelphie moaned.

‘No, give him back to me,’ she said and Rolan sighed.

‘You will have to let him go while you bathe,’ he told her, but handed her the newborn. Zelphie was happy to just hold him again. Rolan got up and walked to the washroom to start a bath for her and Zelphie just cooed over her baby.

‘Did you tell Lia?’ She called and she heard Rolan laugh over the sound of rushing water.

‘Yes, and you owe me two gold, she did not pass out,’ he said and reappeared in the room. Zelphie smiled, not taking her eyes off the baby. She touched the little bumps on his forehead where his horns would grow. ‘She and Cal are deliriously happy and I told them once you had your bath and rest they could visit, quickly,’ he said and Zelphie smiled up at Rolan.

‘He’s terribly lucky. Most of our kin get nothing, he has a little village to love and raise him,’ she said and Rolan grinned. ‘Thank you for my family, Rolan.’

After fussing from both mother and baby, the little one was put in his crib, Rolan sending a soft music spell over the crib so he could focus on helping Zelphie bathe. Zelphie needed his help desperately but she really hated that he had to see her like this. She felt physically at her lowest, and the man who was supposed to share a bed with her was washing her naked body. But Rolan was insistent. The amount of books he had read in the last six months about tiefling pregnancy was impressive. He genuinely was happy to help his wife feel clean once more. He did allow her privacy so he could clean the bed. As he did so, their little one began to cry and Rolan got Zelphie out of the bath and into a plush chair by the bed. Zelphie breastfed as Rolan cleaned the room up. Rolan helped Zelphie back into bed to get ready for a visit from their little one’s aunt and uncle. Rolan walked Lia and Cal in and Zelphie was feeling incredibly tired, but she was excited for this meeting. Cal and Lia had been so supportive and excited about the birth, she knew they would make wonderful guardians. A little one could never have enough love. Lia walked in first, she was almost tip toeing in. Zelphie gave her a sleepy little smile and Lia held a hand over her mouth. She was doing her best to control her excitement. 

‘Come open your eyes my little heart, meet your auntie Lia,’ Zelphie whispered and she heard Lia make a little sound. Lia got over to her, followed by Cal.

‘Oh my gods…oh,’ Lia whispered, her mouth still covered by her hand. ‘How are you feeling, Zelphie? You look great,’ she asked and Zelphie laughed a little.

‘I’m over the moon,’ she said and glanced down at the baby. ‘Come on, open your eyes,’ she said, and stroked the skin between his eyebrows gently. The infant lazily opened his eyes at the touch, only for them to roll up and shut again. Lia laughed at that silly little face.

‘Oh my goodness, that was so cute,’ she said and her tail lashed back and forth happily. ‘Zelphie, I can’t believe he’s real, he’s so small,’ she squeaked.

‘I don’t know, he’s got Rolan’s big fat head,’ Cal said happily and Lia hit Cal’s shoulder. Zelphie smirked and lifted the little one.

‘Do you want to hold him, Lia?’ She asked and Lia’s eyes grew.

‘Go sit in the chair Lia,’ Rolan said and Lia obeyed quickly. Oh, did she ever want to hold that baby. Lia sat down in Zelphie’s armchair and Rolan took the baby from Zelphie. Rolan walked back to his sister and gently passed the baby to her. Lia made a little happy sound, somewhere between a squeak and a giggle.

‘Oh…oh Rolan, look what you did,’ Lia said.

‘Excuse me?’ Zelphie asked and Cal laughed, but Lia shook her head.

‘No, I know, I’m sorry Zelphie…but…come on, I never thought my big brother could ever,’ she said and Rolan smiled at his sister.

‘I think I am to say thanks,’ he said and Lia grinned and looked back down at the little one. Cal scooted closer to Zelphie and kissed her cheek.

‘Personally, I think you did brilliant,’ he said with a cheeky tone and Zelphie grinned.

‘Thank you Cal,’ she said and looked back at Lia, who was in heaven. 

Eventually, Cal had a turn and was introduced properly to his nephew. Rolan made the visit short as he noticed Zelphie’s eyes grow heavy. Luckily for them, just as Rolan took his son back, the infant cried for a change. Rolan was absolutely determined to get it right. Neither one of the new parents had ever done this before and a lot of practice would make perfect. How did one deal with a tiefling tail and a nappy? A mess it would absolutely be. The little one was secure with a nappy and was quiet for one moment before screaming for another feeding. Zelphie was beyond exhausted, but asked Rolan to move the crib close to the bed so she could watch him sleep. She was terrified of sleeping, but sleep would have to come. Rolan moved the rocking crib close to Zelphie’s side of the bed, and placed the little one on his back and summoned the music spell again. He walked over to the cleric’s bag, full of potions and lotions for the baby and Zelphie. He walked over with the bag and began unloading it all on his side table. He read the labels of a few and smiled when he read the third one. He handed it to Zelphie who took the bottle. A numbing cream. Zelphie’s eye lit up.

‘Where the hells was this three hours ago?’ She asked and Rolan chuckled. She placed it on her side table. She would sleep easily without it and would use it when she was rested if she wanted to get up and walk about. Rolan climbed into bed and handed her another, large bottle. Lavender oil.

‘Alright, face the baby, back to me,’ he told her and she absolutely didn’t object. She untied her dressing robe, letting the light silk fall down her shoulders.

‘You don’t have to,’ she put up a fake little fight, just to be polite. Rolan chuckled.

‘Oh yes I do,’ he said, taking the bottle of oil from her and began to tenderly rub her lower back and shoulders with the oil. 

No, it didn’t take very much for Zelphie to fall asleep. Rolan was reminded of her first night in the tower. She was in a much worse state then, but she had fallen asleep on the floor, against his legs as he massaged the crown of her horns. He had been relieved that night that she was alive, and he would keep it to himself, but as joyful as he was becoming a new father, most of his joy was from Zelphie surviving their son’s birth. She wasn’t going anywhere. And he would take care of her.

Rolan and Zelphie had fallen asleep just before dawn and woke up to a baby cry four times before the rest of the world was waking up. Zelphie wasn’t as good waking up every two hours, so by morning, Rolan took the screaming newborn away to the balcony and bounced him gently. It didn’t take very long for Rolan to get over his nerves of holding the little one. He had no choice, it seemed, he needed Zelphie to rest, and the baby was just fussing. Maybe the warm morning sun would settle him down.

‘There there, my gods what a fuss, you get your lungs for your mother,’ Rolan tutted, gently bouncing the baby as he paced outside. ‘Shhh shhh, yes that’s it, you just needed to be warm, hm?’ He asked as the baby stretched and hiccuped from crying. Rolan chuckled at the cute little sound. ‘You are going to do yourself in with all that nonsense, I won’t tolerate it,’ he told the baby lovingly and looked out at the city below. ‘Those people will have one more tiefling to complain about, but it would serve you right if you keep up the screaming,’ he kept on, just talking in a low voice to soothe the baby. It was working. The little one was calmed down and had half his eyes open. ‘There you are, good morning my prince,’ he said and traced his finger gently on the baby’s cheek. Rolan walked over to a little stone bench on the balcony and sat, watching the little one. The baby was moving a little, scooting around in Rolan’s arms as he figured out his limbs and the new world he was in. Rolan was tired, but less irritable than Zelphie, so he was happy to just relax and watch. 

Rolan looked up at the sea, watching boats sail back in for the morning from fishing trips. He heard roosters and school bells. The day was going on down in the city as if nothing new happened. But for Rolan, the world had stopped spinning for a moment. His whole life changed just hours ago. He stretched his neck and as he did, he heard the baby let out another hiccup, a loud one and Rolan glanced down. A puff of green glittering smoke appeared around the baby and Rolan’s brows furrowed. Where had that come from? Rolan was immediately nervous and opened the baby’s little swaddle. Another hiccup. The green glittering smoke was back, it had come from the little one’s hand. Rolan’s face fell immediately.

‘Oh fuck.’

A sorcerer.

[ashasmonsters]

Masterpost!

Hey everyone! Here's the masterlist for all my stories. If you're new, hi! Feel free to hit up my ask box on my main, @ashwritesmonsters !

Each long-ish story is named after what kind of character the reader is. The format for each story is this:

Title - pairing - citrus rating

Here is a useful post explaining Citrus ratings.

Here is a link to my AO3!

I'll update the list as each story goes out, so this list will always be up-to-date! Check under the cut, and thanks for reading!

Stories

The Orchardkeeper - F!Reader x M!Minotaur - Lime [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

The Thru-hiker - F!Reader x M!Mothman - Lemon [Link]

The Middle Prince - M!Reader x M!Tiefling - Lemon [Link]

The Skateboarder - F!Reader x F!Orc - Lemon [Link]

The Murabito - F!Reader x M!Ningyo - Lemon [Link]

Drabbles, Requests, & Drabble Requests

Werewolves and Chocolate - F!Werewolf x M!Human - Orange

Flirty M!Orc x Small Chubby Shy F!Reader - Lemon

Del Toro M!Fishman x Intimidating Jumpy F!Reader - Lemon

M!Dryad x Dom F!Reader - Lemon | [Part 2]

Gothic Vampiric M!Demon x Crass Smol F!Reader - Lemon

Body-Conscious M!Alien x Caring F!Reader - Lemon

M!Werewolf x M!Reader - Lime

Tall Manhandling GN!Reader x M!Goblin - Lime

Shy M!Satyr x Shy F!Reader - Lemon

Tsundere M!Incubus x Shy F!Reader - Orange

M!Reader x M!Illithid - Orange

Anons

💜🖤💜 hearts anon

[kim-monsterlings]

Exophilia Masterlist

Introducing Me // Requests //  My Commissions - CLOSED

Updated: 31/10/2021 - Bucky Barnes ghost AU

Story count: 22

My Ko-Fi

Monster Matches - CLOSED// Monster Match Masterlist

Tropemas Masterlist

Faebruary Masterlist

Mini Kinktober Commissions - Info

//

-Cubi

Leigh // F Succubus x GN Human (Reader) // NSFW

Demons

Idella // F Demon x GN Human (Reader) // SFW

Dullahan

Lars // M Dullahan x M Human (Reader) // NSFW

Fae

Torben // M Fae x F Human (Reader) // SFW

Firbolg

Gwynna // F Firbolg x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Gargoyles

Galan // M Gargoyle x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Ghosts

Bucky Barnes // M Ghost x F Human (Reader) // NSFW - Kinktober Challenge

Gnolls

Ollie // M Gnoll x GN Human (Reader) // SFW

Goblins

Vardelk // M Goblin x GN Human (Reader) // SFW

Hellhounds

Danon //  M Hellhound x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Kelpies

Cathair // M Kelpie x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Kitsune

Roan // M Kitsune x F Human (Reader) // NSFW - Kinktober

Mer

Brae // M Mer x M Human (Reader) // NSFW

Minotaurs

Neo // M Minotaur x F Human (Reader) // SFW

Nagas

Kaan // M Naga x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Nokken

Edel // M Nokken x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

Orcs

Raynar // M Orc x F Human (Reader) // SFW

Eladan // M Orc x GN Human (Reader) // SFW

Other

Bellamy // GN Cursed x F Human (Reader) // SFW

Selkies

Enan // M Selkie x F Human (Reader) // NSFW - Kinktober

Tiefling

Trine // F Tiefling x GN Human (Reader) // NSFW - Kinktober

Were-

Cane // M Werewolf x GN Human (Reader) // SFW