#There he'd said it and laid it out before her.—for all of it—I’m sorry—*I love you*

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 51

He didn't care, didn't marvel that he was soon to be airborne on one of those incredible beasts. Didn't care that tomorrow, they would all take on the dark army gathered beyond.

He'd fought in more battles, more wars, than he cared to remember. Tomorrow would be little different, save for the demons they'd slay, rather than men or Fae.

Demons like his former queen, apparently.

He had offered himself to her, had wanted her, or believed he did. And she had laughed at him. He didn't know what it meant. About her, about himself.

He'd thought his darkness, Hellas's gifts, had been drawn to her, that they'd been matched.

Perhaps the dark god had wanted him not to swear fealty to Maeve, but to kill her. To get close enough to do so.

Lorcan didn't adjust his cape against the gust of frigid air off the distant lake. Rather, he leaned into the cold, into the ice on the wind. As if it might rip away the truth.

There was no fear or pity on her face, her black hair gilded by the torches and campfires. Of all of them, she'd mastered the news with little difficulty, stepping up to the desk as if she'd been born on a battlefield.

"I didn't know," he said, voice strained.

Elide knew what he meant. "We have bigger things to worry about anyway."

He took a step toward her. "I didn't know," he said again.

She tipped her head back to study his face and pursed her mouth, a muscle ticking in her jaw. "Do you want me to give you some sort of absolution for it?"

"I served her for nearly five hundred years. Five hundred years, and I just thought her to be immortal and cold."

"That sounds like the definition of a Valg to me."

He bared his teeth. "You live for eons and see what it does to you, Lady."

"I don't see why you're so shocked. Even with her being immortal and cold, you loved her. You must have accepted those traits. What difference does it make what we call her, then?"

"I didn't love her."

"You certainly acted like you did."

Lorcan snarled, "Why is that the point you keep returning to, Elide? Why is it the one thing you cannot let go of?"

"Because I'm trying to understand. How you could come to love a monster."

"Why?" He pushed into her space. She didn't balk one step.

Indeed, her eyes were blazing as she hissed, "Because it will help me understand how I did the same."

Her voice snagged on the last words, and Lorcan stilled as they settled into them. He'd never ... he'd never had anyone who-

"Is it a sickness?" she demanded. "Is it something broken within you?"

"Elide." Her name was a rasp on his lips. Lorcan dared reach a hand for her. But she pulled out of reach. "If you think that because you swore the blood oath to Aelin, it means anything for you and me, you're sorely mistaken. You're immortal-I'm human. Let us not forget that little fact, either."

Lorcan nearly recoiled at the words, their horrible truth. He was five hundred years old He should walk away—he shouldn't be so damned bothered by any of this. And yet Lorcan snarled, "You're jealous. That's what truly eats away at you."

Elide barked a laugh that he'd never heard before, cruel and sharp. "Jealous? Jealous of what? That demon you served?" She squared her shoulders, a wave cresting before it smashed into the shore. "The only thing that I am jealous of, Lorcan, is that she is rid of you."

Lorcan hated that the words landed like a blow. That he had no defenses left where she was concerned. "I'm sorry," he said. "For all of it, Elide." There, he'd said it, and laid it out before her. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

But Elide's face did not warm. "I don't care," she said, turning on her heel. "And I don't care if you walk off that battlefield tomorrow.

"I have never heard Lorcan apologize for anything. Even when Maeve whipped him for a mistake, he did not apologize to her."

"And that means he earns my forgiveness?"

"No. But you have to realize that he swore the blood oath to Aelin for you. For no one else. So he could remain near you. Even knowing well enough that you will have a mortal lifespan."

The birds shifted on their feet, rustling their wings in anticipation of flight. She knew. Had known it the moment he'd knelt before Aelin. Weeks later, Elide hadn't known what to do with it, the knowledge that Lorcan had done this for her. The longing to talk to him, to work with him as they had. She'd hated herself for it. For not trying to hold on to her anger longer.

It was why she'd gone after him tonight.

Not to punish him, but herself. To remind herself of who he'd sold their queen to, how profoundly mistaken she had been.

And her parting line to him ... it was a lie.

A disgusting, hateful lie.

Elide turned to Gavriel again. "I don't—" The Lion was gone. And for the cold flight over the army, then over the sea of darkness spread between it and the ancient city, even that wise voice who had whispered for the entirety of her life had gone quiet.

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,�� you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 

 ---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 

And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 

His reply came at lightning speed:

7?

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

7.

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked. 

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

[lokisgoodgirl]

Marked : The Rite (VII.)

A Masterlist for The Rite is HERE A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (7) Shaken from Loki's exit, you seek counsel from the wisest person you know. As does Loki. And twin moons aren't the only thing coming together. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Mild angst. Asgardians behaving badly. More smut. (w.c 5.2k)

Loki didn’t know whose hands were touching him, whose breath was on his neck, whose empty congratulations were ringing in his ears.

He was halfway down the aisle before he realised you weren’t with him. Loki turned, trying to stop the tide of bodies sweeping him away.

Did I leave her?!

The moments after the announcement were a blur. He'd meant to take your hand, to pull you up with him...but —

I didn't. I left her.

The riotous blob burst into a small feasting hall near the Rite chamber with long tables laid with glazed hams and towers of pastries. Thor slapped Loki’s back hard enough to leave a mark.

"Is she getting changed? Is she coming?" Loki glanced over his shoulder, drawing the sash tight around his hips. It didn’t make much difference, being that the robe was translucent, but he needed something for his hands to do. “Don’t be absurd, brother.” A tankard was shoved into his hand. “Sif came to the festivities after your Rite—”

“Yes but Sif was a warrior, and a member of the inner circle." Thor’s face scrunched. ‘Your one is…” Loki’s face hardened. “Is what?”

Thor’s laugh made the ale ripple. “Come, Loki, be serious. She’s not one of us. You have what you wanted, your place in Asgard’s Royal line. You can stop playing the cunt-struck lovelorn, now.” Loki stiffened, setting the tankard down purposefully on the table. "She loves me."

"Yes, and?" Thor shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "She isn’t the first, she won’t be the last. Who cares about her? Enjoy the—”

Loki smacked the tankard from Thor’s grip. It flew across the hall at force, hitting Fandral between the shoulder blades. He spun. “—I care...brother,” Loki hissed, so close to Thor’s face he could smell the pepper-roasted ham he’d been guzzling between idiocies.

“All my life I’ve been surrounded by people like you, thinking I was the one who should linger in shadow; the one who didn’t fit; who didn’t deserve the life he had.” His molars pressed together, growing more incensed with each of Thor’s vacant, casual chews. “But it was the rest of you that needed to change. She sees me for who I am, and she loves me.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “Did that witch Lagertha slip her some magic potion to smear on her lady-bits? Brother, you’re acting most unlike yourself.” Loki’s hand flew to Thor’s throat, lifting him off the floor.

The blonde’s face turned red instantly, struggling against his grip. No one tried to intervene, they knew better than that. With a growl, Loki lowered him, but he didn’t release the grip on Thor’s windpipe.

“Perhaps I’ve been concealing the true fury I hold inside me, brother,” Loki hissed in his ear, enjoying the desperate swallow as he struggled for air. “Boys, boys,” Fandral smarmed, edging them apart. “Your brother’s right, Lo—ki,” Fandral said, sliding an arm around his shoulder and grasping against the chiffon clinging to his muscle. “Enjoy yourself, hmm? Forget that pretty nothing. Tonight, perhaps you’ll indulge in something more…on your level.” He winked, curling a loose strand of Loki’s top knot around a fingertip. “I told her not to get attached. It’s not your fault if she did, she was warned.” Realisation hit Loki like a chariot.

“What did you say to her?” he growled, noting the sudden fear in Fandral’s eyes. The man stumbled back, tripping over a pair of ridiculous satin shoes. Before he could hit the floor Loki’s arm shot out, grabbing the cravat bunched at Fandral’s neck and pulling him up. Fandral slammed against Loki’s chest, nails ripping down the fabric of his robe and tearing into chest muscle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorr—” “What…did you say to her?” An arctic silence had fallen over the feasting hall. Pain clawed beneath Loki’s skin, but he ignored it. Blood was already starting to clot between the minuscule weave. “That you were trying to make her fall in love with you, which, wh-which you did—”

“—And?” Loki shook him, making Fandral’s coiffured golden curl wobble loose. “—A-and that you’d discard her,” he choked, eyes darting manically to the ceiling. “Which…you did.”

Loki punched in the face: right on top of the fastenings covering his re-set nose from last night. Fandral whimpered as Loki punched him again, only stopping because of the tidal wave of arms pulling him off. He thrashed, throwing his fists and swiftly receiving one himself. Loki’s face wrenched to the side, the knot atop his head falling and the golden snake clip bouncing to the stone below. “Brother, stop…” Thor shook his fist, knuckles blossoming scarlet. Loki’s stare fell on Fandral, being hoisted between two guards out the room. He pressed his cheek, wincing. “I avoided your nose, at least,” Thor said. “But it will bruise, for certain.” “Fuck you, brother,” Loki spat.

He didn’t indulge the hands that grasped at him, half-drunk, petitioning him to stay at his own celebrations. He could still taste your delicate arousal on his tongue, and hear the unspoken words hanging in the air between the two of you.

I love you, your eyes had said, even before the enchanted robe confirmed it. He wondered if his had, too. What must she think of me?

The guards opened the golden door separating the inner palace from the outer court. Their eyes fell down his body, but they said nothing. Under normal circumstances, Loki could materialise a more modest outfit with a wave of his hand, but his emotions were too high; his magic was too unstable. So, for now, any members of the court milling around would have a scene to tell their grandchildren about: Loki of Asgard, resplendent in his Rite robe, cock hanging free – on the way to salvage the love he thought he’d never find — if she'd still have him. Quick footsteps pattered behind him and Loki whipped around, fire flashing in his eyes. Håkon stood masked in shadow, a low hood covering his face. “What are you doing here?” Loki said, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice. Håkon shrugged. “I thought you might need me. When you messed up, you know?” Loki folded his arms, suddenly aware the boy was seeing him practically naked, but Håkon’s eyes were set firmly on his own, even when a pair of leather pants materialised around Loki's lower limbs. “What do you mean when I messed up?” Loki scoffed, feeling his ears burn. “Why—?”

Håkon sighed. “—Do you know where her rooms are?” A swallow worked down Loki’s throat, common sense spreading now that his heart had slowed. “No.” Håkon smirked in a way that Loki felt entirely responsible for. “Exactly. Come on, let me help you for once.” Loki’s heart wrenched a little at the sentiment, quickly diluted by the whisper of ‘idiot,’ as Håkon passed him. And then it was his turn to smirk.

The boy led him through a maze of corridors Loki had never seen before, up three flights of stairs and to the furthest wing of the court. Your door was open, but to his dismay, Loki quickly realised you weren’t there. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, emptied from a dresser.

“Where is she?” Loki growled to no one, and Håkon shrugged lightly. “Depends what you did, master,” he said, glancing out the door and down the corridor. “But she’s gone, alright.”

No one had tried to stop you. And really, that said it all.

You’d made straight for the baths and shrugged off the ceremonial robe, pulling on your old day dress as quickly as possible. You’d run to your chambers with bare feet slapping against stone, slamming the door behind you with wild eyes and wilder thoughts.

I have to get out of here. You couldn’t stay here where you were a figure of ridicule; where everyone knew you loved Loki enough to satisfy some ancient magic and his first thought had been an ale, and the approval he so desperately wanted.   A place of honour, yeah right. Anger curdled in your gut. He hadn’t even said thank you. Bastard.

You bit back tears as a bag was stuffed with all the necessities you could think of. It would take a few days to arrange travel somewhere far away from here, maybe back to your family. But until then, you couldn’t sit here waiting for whatever pity knock came at the door. And there was only one place that came to mind. “Oh,” Lagertha said, peeping through the gap in the bronze door of the Weaving Tower. Moonlight smoothed the deep wrinkles of her face, and the bobble of a sleeping cap hung by the sheet of fabric draped down her chest. She peered to either side, groggy eyes blinking back to your face. “Got Loki exhausted and begging for mercy already? You better be here to spill all the details - I’m a little old for girl talk but I’ll do my best.” She smiled as she said it, but it was wary.

When you didn’t reply she added, ‘…What’s he done?” And then, you started to cry.

Lagertha ushered you inside, bringing you to a small door at the back of the ground floor. Through the haze of tears, you couldn’t even appreciate that the door that had appeared from nowhere on the smooth circular wall, opening into a homely set of rooms. She plonked you at a small table and set about making tea while you heaved out the important details: ceremony, amazing, loved him, left.

Lagertha sighed. She drooped into the chair opposite and pushed a steaming cup of something herbal in your direction. You blew a wet snort into the sleeve of your dress. “Blessed Norns, dear. We may not be royals, but we’re not animals.” She fished in a pocket of her nightdress. “Here,” she said, offering a suspiciously crinkled handkerchief. You took it, blew into it, and she sighed again. “I’m sure he meant well, love.” “He left me!” you gasped, high and squeaky. Your eyes itched from tears and Lagertha grimaced. “He didn’t say a word, let himself be dragged off by the people he claims to despise all telling him how fucking great he was…Fandral was right. I’m nothing to him.” You folded your head in your hands, staring at the table. “I never liked that Fandral,” Lagertha said after a pause. Her chair creaked. “Never trust a man with more shoes than sense, that’s what my mother always said.” A small laugh erupted in your throat. And soon afterwards, the stone weighing in your stomach was dust. Temporarily, at least. When the teapot was empty, she showed you to a small bedroom beside her own holding a long single bed, and not much else. A nightdress was folded on it, woven by Lagertha. The threads shimmered in moonlight. “I can’t magic you up a four-poster bed, I’m afraid,” she said with a sad smile. “But I can guarantee you’ve never slept on finer sheets.” You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect…thank you, Lagertha.” And as you curled your knees to your chest, staring at the wall, you tried not to think about Loki’s eyes as he kissed the inside of your knee; of his warm breath in your ear as the syllables of your name lingered on his tongue, and the hope you'd felt. That was the worst of it. You were trying so hard not to think about it, you almost didn’t hear a knock at the front door.

“What do you want?” Lagertha hissed. You stood with an ear pressed tightly to the wood separating the front door of Lagertha’s quarters to the main entrance of the Tower. A low voice rumbled in response. “I don’t know what to tell you,” Lagertha said. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

“…Safe?” the voice mumbled. It sounded sad. Is it…? You pulled the door open.

Loki stood in the entrance, that broad shouldered silhouette unmistakeable. Shards of liquid moonlight dashed across the wild hair spread over his shoulders. He still wore the ceremonial robe, but the intricate folds were tangled and now he was wearing a pair of those — fucking —leather trousers that clung to every insane muscle. And then, breath caught in your throat. A bruise the colour of stormclouds was spreading under Loki’s eye socket, and a deep scratch ran from his heart down to the oblique on his left side.

He gasped your name, lunging forwards – but Lagertha stopped him with a delicate press to his chest. He looked at her, and then at you. “I need to speak to you,” he pleaded. “I can explain, it’s not what you—" You raised a hand. Part of you wanted to run into his arms and tell him to shut up and kiss him into oblivion. But another part, the sensible part, knew that nothing had changed. Not really. Lagertha looked between the two of you.

“Why don’t the two of you have a little chat, hmm?” You said nothing, staring at Loki. He was breathing heavily. Did he run all the way from the palace? How did he know I was gone? Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you noted the twitch of his fingers by his sides, the frantic dart of his eyes over your face, his lips itching to say the words jostling behind them.

Lagertha rose her eyebrows at you, and you nodded in confirmation. She made a fist at the thin material on Loki’s chest and pulled him inside. The bronze door slammed. The god smoothed his hair back, his abdomen twitching. “Upstairs is about as private as it gets,” Lagertha said breezily, shuffling across the floor. Her bare feet whispered across polished marble. “Just…try not to throw him out the window, will you?” she asked as she passed, patting your shoulder. “The kids need those hams from the palace.”

You lowered your gaze as her wizened hand lingered and then slid into the darkness beyond with the rest of her. And the next thing you felt was the gentle touch of a finger trailing up your jawline. “Little Ow—" “—Don’t.” The finger flinched. Your vision started to blur. “I’m so embarrassed, Loki,” you whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the waver in your voice. His brows peaked.

“Come upstairs,” he said, letting the fingers graze down your arm and tentatively cupping your hand. Loki led you up the staircase, his perfect ass shifting in those ridiculous leather pants. You bit your lip, trying to douse the hope building in your gut. That hope always got you in trouble. The measuring room looked different by moonlight. A wide bar of white spilt through the solitary window. Outside, Asgard's twin moons were almost in perfect alignment. Once every 500 years, you thought lazily. The chaise in the corner was still in the same place you’d first seen the god draped over it, the first place you’d seen the hint in his eyes there could be something more.

He dropped your hand, pacing to the centre of the room, and spread his arms, turning in a solemn circle. Loki looked up beneath his lashes, the bruise shadowing one half of his face, and moonlight dashing the other. “I am, who I am,” he said with a tinge of bitterness. Loki’s tongue nipped over his lips, trepidation flashing on his features. “To everyone…I am the prince of pleasure. I am usually drunk, mostly rude, or having sex…or all three.” You rolled your eyes, arms folding over the thin nightdress. “But then…I met you,” he finished. He crossed the room, a hand sliding around your waist. “Years in the palace shovelled dirt on the person who I am, who I want to be. I felt like I was…mad. But with you, I feel whole. I can be…free.”

His lips brushed yours, hovering. “When they said The Rite had been successful…I was blinded by everything I always thought I wanted. Everything I’d been conditioned to want by that awful place, just for a moment," he said, voice catching against the short puffs of your breath into his mouth.

“But what I truly want…is you. And you owe me nothing, I know that. But I need you to know that I —” You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips, tongue demanding entry as he stumbled back and clasped his hands at your back.

“I love you, Loki,” you gasped through messy kisses. "You fucking fool, I do...I just thought, I thought..."

He pulled away. The dark, tangled halo of his hair framed the angles of his face. Loki’s eyes were black in the gloom, a small sliver of blue ringing blown pupils. He cupped your jaw, and brushing a thumb over your parted lips. “I love you in ways I thought weren’t possible, I love—”

Your body moulded to him like a magnet, tongue exploring his it was the first time. His hands cupped the base of your skull as one of yours worked down his chest, down his waist. Loki hissed, jolting back. “I’m sorry,” you said, glancing at the ragged scratch. “What happened?” “Fandral,” he muttered, but before you could ask his mouth was on yours again. You squeezed his cock through the tight leather as Loki unwound his hands from your hair and shrugged the ceremonial robe from his shoulders. “Can we…you know... now?” you breathed against his chest as your eager fingers pulled at his laces. Loki’s chest shook with silent laughter but all he said was, “Yes. If you want to.” You looked up, scandalised. “If I want to? Are you mad?” Loki’s hands stilled around yours. The tip of his cock was hard against your fingers, and all you wanted to do was dig down the narrow gap of the fabric and squeeze; feel him tremble under the weight of how much you wanted every part of him. “If you don’t want me anymore, if The Rite was too much and now you have doubts…you’re under no obligation to—”

“—Fuck you?” A smirk curled at one side of Loki’s mouth. “Well, yes.”

“You’re every bit the arsehole they say you are,” you said, poking the centre of his chest, “you’re vain, and brash, and arrogant…” Loki’s smile grew, sinking slowly to his knees. “Keep talking, darling. Ruin me.” His thumbs and forefingers curled above your knees, working upwards and raising the hem of your nightdress with it. “Proud, and mouthy…but…you’re also kind, and generous and, oh-gods,” Loki’s mouth fastening to your clit, suckling gently. Your fingers raked through his hair, pulling his face tighter to the heat between your legs. In the pearl-slick gloom, there was only you and him; Lagertha's fabrics glistening like exotic bird wings in the half light. Your legs trembled and Loki’s hands flew to your ass, balancing as you staggered through orgasm with a rush of his name.

Sinking to the floor under his guidance, your lips met; whispers of ‘I love you,’ cracked the stillness while Loki waved his hand, and soft fur rugs unfurled from nothing on the floor.

You pressed against his chest, nudging him onto his back. Light kisses were peppered on his bruised under eye, down the line of his nose, across his parted lips. You travelled down his neck, tongue nipping over the thick vein straining and dipping into the hollow of Loki’s collarbone. “Please,” he gasped quietly, nails scraping lovingly down the ridges of your spine, “I need you, I’m begging you, darling.”

“A Prince? Begging?” Tutting softly, you straddled his hips, scooting down the god’s long legs and pulling the leather trousers as you went. Loki laughed as you threw them to the side and kissed up his perfect femurs, and then up the trail of the scratch on his stomach. His cock nestled between the swell of your breasts, pre-cum leaking into the fabric of the nightdress. “No…” Loki whined with feigned frustration. Or maybe not feigned, you thought with a thrill. His cock was incredibly hard, flat to his stomach, the tip dripping fat beads of arousal to the skin below. He arched his back, his eyes flashing with a primordial need. Your grip tightening around the girth, and Loki released a guttural choke. With a deft swoop, you captured the crown of his cock in your mouth. Loki was silent for a moment, and then, he moaned.

It was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His skin was velvet against your tongue; every ridge pulsing in time with each suck. Loki’s words were unintelligible. Murmurs of praise in an ancient tongue, the glimpse of his fingers tightening around the furs out of the corner of your eye, his hips quivering with the effort of not emptying down your throat. Your fingers tightened around the base, tongue flicking the sensitive underneath of his shaft. Loki squirmed, and you looked up – mouth full of his cock. His brows peaked in desperation, his jaw slack and strands of hair stuck to his forehead. “I need to be inside you,” he panted, biting back a groan, “please…fuck me. Please—" Before he could finish the sentence, you’d crawled up his chest, kissing him like a Valkyrie. Loki Odinson was putty in your hands, thrusting against your bare thighs like a needy youth desperate to feel a cunt wrapped around his prick for the first time. And it was fucking hot.

A deep groan rumbled in Loki’s chest, and it was only at the last second you realised it was a growl.

He flipped you to your back, caging your wrists above your head, and spread your knees wider with one of his own, settling in the middle. Loose hair hung around his jawline. Above you was the devastating god of legend: the one that could ruin a city and a woman with one smoulder. And he was yours. “I love you,” he said again, nudging his cock at your slippery entrance. You arched up, capturing his lips. “Please, Loki,” you whispered. Loki’s cock breached and the two of you stilled. He panted slowly; his eyes fixed on yours as he eased himself inside.

The god’s forehead rested against yours as he circled his hips; a fullness rising like the tide filling a narrow cave. Of all things you expected Loki to be – gentle wasn’t one of them. And now, you weren't sure why. You clenched on every drag of his cock from your cunt, relishing the pained pleasure in his eyes before he sank inside again.

Each wickedly slow wave of his hips caught the deepest secrets of your desires; his breaths timed with yours, and only your name on his tongue. And then, his lips lowered to your ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth as he came with a thunderous gasp of devotion. "I'm yours," he breathed. "Utterly."

Your legs tightened around his hips, capturing him deep, locking tight enough you’d swear you’d never let go.

Loki's face buried in your neck, his heartbeat thumping against your chest. “I feel cheated,” you whispered against his cheek.

He frowned, pulling back. His cock twitched inside your snug cunt. Norns, it was even more perfect than he dreamed it would be, but — “Excuse me?” he said, followed by a confused snort unbecoming of royalty. He cringed as your lips rippled with a stifled smile. “I’ve heard all these tales of Prince Loki and his sexual theatrics…drama, you know?” You shrugged, and Loki tried to ignore the gnawing desire rear in his lower stomach at how innocently fucked-out you looked. “Is my lover…unsatisfied?” “No?” You bit your lip, and Loki’s manhood eased from your silken channel with a licentious slurp. His eyes narrowed as you continued with, “That was…incredible, I just…you’re different to how I thought you’d be. Gentler, more…romantic.” Loki knelt back, heels digging against his ass. He ran his hands through sweat-damp hair, pausing with the fingers locked behind his head. “You should be honoured,” he sniffed imperiously. “I don’t think I’ve made love like that in…” He realised he’d been staring at the window and tilted his head to meet your eyes, “Ever.” Your beam of pride made his heart explode into a thousand, shining pieces. He towered over your moon-drunk body, memorising the lines that appeared in your face when you were truly happy. Joy. Acceptance. Love. So, this was what it felt like. One finger traced over Loki’s lips, down his chin; fell to his chest and continued its descent between his ribs. “Are you asking to experience both sides of me, tonight?” he asked: slow, gravelled.

You bit your lip again, but the smile couldn’t be contained. Loki lowered, making a show of placing his palms above each of your shoulders.

“Are you asking for Loki of Asgard to fuck you like a god?” he growled, relishing the frantic nod of your head. “To take you as his mistress, and mark you as his own?” He shot you a wolfish grin. No words passed your lips – at least, none known to gods or men. Your hips thrust up to meet the dangle of his riotously hard cock with a clouded, desperate mischief in your eyes.

“Mmm,” Loki hummed, sliding a flat palm between your breasts and massaging the base of your neck. In one graceful movement Loki’s hand dropped to your waist, the other scooping beneath your hips and sliding your body up his thighs. He gave your arse a tight smack, grabbing a handful of hot flesh with an approving rumble. He held you still above the tip of his cock, mustering his best look of regal indifference. “What do you want?” he goaded. The fingernails digging into his shoulder muscle would leave marks, but Loki didn’t care. “Fuck me again, Loki…please, hard” you gasped, raking through his hair. He knew it would be hanging in perfect dishevelment around his jaw, trailing the hollow of your neck, strands marking his moonlit skin like ink.

Loki lowered you an inch, letting the tight ring of your cunt swallow the tip of his cock. His whole body shuddered, fingertips sinking into the soft flesh of your waist. “F—fuck, darling,” he stuttered. He hoped he’d never become accustomed to that silken fire.

You yelped as Loki powered upward.

His thighs smarted, and your legs tightened around his waist. The god took several steps forward, pressing you tightly against the turret wall.

Asgard’s twin moons shone through the window, coating the city rooftops like white sapphire. They're almost joined, he noticed. The court would be out in force for the event: fires blazing, chants ringing. His absence would be noted. But all Loki could feel was the beat of your heart against his, and your whispers of forever in every breath.

The moan that ripped from your throat as he buried himself was heaven, and Loki intended to wring pitches of pleasure from that pretty throat that you’d never thought possible. He ripped the neckline of your nightdress, devouring the supple skin that taunted him — palming your perfect breasts, and his enthusiasm as harsh from his throat as it was from his cock. You arched into his body, offering your neck like a willing rabbit to a panther. Or was he the rabbit? Hel's fire: It had never been like this.

He wanted to consume you, or rather, let you consume him. An endless cycle of lust, and love, and eternity. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Whatever he’d found in you, he’d found himself. Every inch of himself was alight with the grip of your cunt as he bottomed out again and again. A hand flew above your head, gripping a chunk of uneven stone. “Make me yours, Loki Odison,” you breathed as your climax ebbed, clenching tightly around the root of his cock. He dragged it out with a gritted growl. Webs of cum squelched as he eased in, and out; your ambrosial mess coating the wet, slow clap of skin. “You give yourself freely,” he panted, and your fingers wrapped deeper in his hair, tugging sharply. He hissed, delivering a punishing thrust that made the wall behind you tremble. “I take nothing which isn’t offered freely; I take nothing which isn’t already mine.” At that, your crossed ankles pressed deeper into the base of his spine. Loki thought he might explode. “Mark me with your power, Loki,” you said, nudging his lips to yours. “Uhhh, g-gods…don’t…” A sob caught in his throat as he felt orgasm swell. He bit into your shoulder, sucking hard enough to bruise. Your gasp of pleasure was the final tie. It snapped. Loki’s hand flew to your ass, pulling you a final devastating time down the rippling veins of his length. His heavy breaths thrummed with climax, your hands fastened to the sides of his face – forcing his eyes to yours.

“Mark me,” you slurred, resting your head against the wall: watching him come undone inside your sweet cunt with a lazy smile. Loki’s vision blurred, blood thundering in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, face tipped to the ceiling and a strangled moan choking from his throat as he emptied molten seed deep inside you for a second, glorious time.

Your lips fastened to the hard vein throbbing in his neck, kissing up until they met the angle of his jaw. "Which side of me do you prefer, then?" he asked, noting the wild thump of his heart. He felt your smile against his cheek.

"I love all of you, Loki." You kissed the tip of his cheekbone. "Every side," you whispered, "and each piece between. You never have to pretend with me. And I promise, I won't pretend with you."

Loki's vision blurred, a thick swallow working down his throat. And for the first time, he knew without a doubt exactly what he wanted; what he needed.

“Marry me,” he murmured, and your grip on his hair faltered. “What?” You looked at him with nothing less than utter bemusement. “You can’t be—" “Serious? Deadly.” Loki lowered you to the ground and kissed you so deeply that he felt the hidden parts of him mingle with yours. But it was meant to be this way. “You opened yourself to me during The Rite – gave me my destiny – but it wasn’t the succession, it was you.” You opened your mouth and closed it again.

Loki raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

Balls of light burst in perfect sync in mid-air: dozens of tiny, flickering orbs of golden flame. Your eyes met his. “Loki, I love you, but you don’t mean that you need to…your family would never—" “—Fuck my family,” he said softly. “To Hel with their inane traditions that serve no one but themselves. I will marry you, and I’ll be happy. I’ll make you happy. If you want it.” Loki touched his forehead to yours, feeling your shoulders begin to shake. “Together, we can usher in a new age of Asgard; a new dawn.” Loki drew his face away, unsurprised to see tracks of silent tears making your cheeks glisten. With every second that passed, the nerves in his stomach skittered to the emptiest corners of his mind he preferred never to tread.

“Will you have me?” he whispered, searching your face. “Will you help me?” The air was knocked out his lungs as you threw your whole weight at him; arms locked around his neck and mouth pressed violently to his own.

Amber slats of sunrise played in the sharp crevices of Loki’s cheekbones. They softened the bruise Thor had left. Loki hadn’t wanted to hide it, not from you. Not from Lagertha, either.

His blue eyes peered knowingly over the rim of one of her pattered teacups, narrowing softly. You smiled, and straightened as Lagertha came bustling through the kitchen door. “Ah, you stayed the night,” she said brightly, nodding to Loki and making for the teapot. “Thought you might. And I see you got the night-robe I left out, thank you for…wearing it. Not that I don’t appreciate the spectacle but given the circumstances it may be a little…inappropriate.”

She poured a cup, plopping down in the third seat at the small table, before looking between you. An eyebrow rose.

“If I go upstairs, Loki Odinson, there better not be a button out of place.”

The words were honeyed, but you could tell she’d kick his ass if there was. And Loki knew it too. You stifled a laugh as his eyes widened, and he pressed an innocent hand to his chest: mortally wounded. “Every thread is in place, Lagertha. You have my word.” She rolled her eyes, landing on you with a wink. "Mmm..." she murmured sceptically, her eyes falling to the tattered neckline of your nightgown. Heat crept up your neck.

The three of you sipped in silence before Lagertha said, “So I assume I’ll need to clear my weaving schedule for a wedding, then?” Loki's tea erupted in a splutter, bringing a fist to his mouth and coughing frantically. You turned to her. “I…um…we,” Lagertha patted your hand. “Don’t worry dear, I wasn’t listening. But like I said the first time we met…I have eyes.” She smiled gently. “Am I wrong?”

Her wry gaze swung between the two of you. “Thought not. Fandral just ordered a new batch of capes. I’ll tell him it won’t happen this quarter: Royal wedding garments take top priority, you see. What a shame. I know how much he loathes not getting what he wants.”

She gave you another wink. “But, for the two of you, I shall enjoy every moment.”

Loki reached across the table, and your own hand crawled forwards, meeting it. ���I love you,” he murmured. “Finally,” Lagertha huffed. “Nice to hear you say it out loud – blazing Norns, it’s been a long week. If I wasn’t already grey, I would be.” Loki threw her a loving glare as his thumb massaged the centre of your palm. Despite lack of sleep, you’d never felt more awake. “As much as I adore her, Lagertha likes to think she knows everything, darling.” “Cos’ I do,” she said with a shrug. “At least where weaving and their enchantments are concerned. But this?” She gestured between you, “It was as obvious as Asgard is golden. Colour me unsurprised when you announce it and no one bats an eye. He’s met his match, and I’ll curse anyone who says otherwise; weave a spell into their robes which makes them perpetually shit themselves, perhaps. But you better not forget about the little ones—”

“—Never,” Loki cut in. She nodded, and put her hand on top of the knot you and Loki had made. A golden ribbon as thin as cobweb snaked over your wrist, slithering in soft waves through the gaps in your fingers and up Loki’s forearm.

“May the Norns bless you,” Lagertha said with a gentle smile, and the ribbon dissolved like melted sugar, absorbing into your skin. And as you and Loki’s eyes met, you knew, finally, that they did.

A/N: Thank you so much for coming on this journey with meee❤️I really hope you enjoyed seeing a bit more of this version of my Asgard, silly as it is. 🕯️ Whether you're reading this two days or two years afterwards, I'd love to hear your thoughts 😊 May the Lagertha-Vibes be with you, always.

A Masterlist for The Rite is here Series now: Complete. A link to my regular Masterlist is here

[rowdyluv]

Run to You - lh43 - timeless

summary: in which y/n’s first boyfriend is not a big fan of Luke and does one of the unspeakable acts to y/n. y/n needs luke.

warnings: TW! TW!: quick mentioning of significant other (almost) hitting other significant other, a lot of dialogue (I mean A LOT), soft luke, cursing, wrote this while half asleep and while at work sorry if it’s not my normal writing :(

word count: 1.7k

note: you are responsible for your own consumption of content on the internet. anything you interact with on my page is at your own discretion. this is piece of fiction. please do not take anything in this to be an accurate representation of anyone who is a real person to be literal. :)

time in life: senior year of high school

Rosey's heart raced as she walked down the sidewalk, her sneakers scraping against the concrete. Her thoughts were all jumbled up. She couldn’t understand what wrong and when it wrong. She was having the hardest time wrapping her mind around the fact Jason had just broke up with her. He was her first true boyfriend, and she thought he loved her. He said he loved her. Jason had given her a choice, him or Luke. She didn’t want to choose and she wouldn’t choose.

He lost his temper with her, his voice raised and eventually so did his hand.

Rosey dodged out of his reach just in time, if she hadn’t, his open hand would’ve connected across her cheek. Terrified of the man standing in front of her, she managed to blurt out a few words to him and charged right out his front door. Now she was walking toward the Hughes's house, struggling to keep herself composed.

Luke. She needed him now more than ever.

Jason lives two neighborhoods over from where her and Luke’s neighborhood is. It’s a quick drive from one place to the other, that is when you drive. Problem for Rosey is she was dropped at his place. Leaving her in a predicament of needing a ride home or to do exactly what she was.

Rosey didn't dare stop her trek, too paranoid Jason might be following her. She was approaching the Hughes’s house when she was brave enough to look behind her. Nothing. She slowed down enough to catch her breath. When she got close enough, she caught sight of Luke's figure through their living room window. Just the sight of him helped her relaxed. Jim and Ellen were out for the day with Quinn and Jack for one of their hockey games and she knew he'd be alone.

Rosey flung open the front door and raced into the house, slamming the door behind her. "Moosey!" she gasped, her voice echoing through the empty entry way. "Luke, I’m sorry for just barging in but I" Rosey couldn’t finish her sentence before her cries broke out as she entered the living room.

When she laid eyes on him and she knew she was safe in his presence, she couldn’t choke her emotions back any longer. Luke practically lunged off the couch, collecting her into his arms.

"Hey, sweet girl, what's wrong?" he asked, taking one of his hands to gently smooth across her hair. He paused halfway as she tensed then quickly relaxed.

"He..he almost smacked me," she sobbed, her voice breaking when she choked on her cries. "Jason, he just..” She paused, having to take a moment to catch her breath. “He got really upset with me when I told him I wouldn't stop being friends with you."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "He did what?" Luke’s question was rhetorical, he heard what she said to him, but he wanted to believe he didn’t though. He did his best to keep his tone even, he didn’t want to make anything worse.

"He was going to hit me, Moose.” She repeated, her face buried in Luke's hoodie. "He said I had to choose, him or you."

Luke's jaw tightened, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent. "That's such bullshit, Ro. Listen to me. You don’t have to choose.”

She didn’t say anything back to him, only squeezed his torso a little tighter and moved her head to where her forehead pressed against his chest so she was now staring at their feet.

Luke moved the two of them to sit down on the couch. He wanted to go over to Jason’s and take care of him, but his first priority was Rosey.

Rosey scooted closer to Luke leaning over onto his shoulder. In the most natural movement Luke moved her to where she was in his lap and he was cradling her close to him. “Listen, I'm here for you, no matter what. Always. The only person allowed to dictate who you are and aren’t friends with is you Rosey.”

"But he was my first boyfriend, and it isn’t fair.” Her body slouched in his arms, officially showing signs of being defeated.

Luke’s ears perked at the word was.

“What a way to ruin my outlook on relationships right?” If the way she entered the house wasn’t enough to shatter his heart the humorous laugh that just came out of her did for sure.

Luke started to rub her mid-thigh soothingly. “Ro, don’t let him ruin your view on relationships. Most people go through a shitty one, do you remember Mia? She basically killed me last summer, with how she chose to end things, but I got through it because I had you.”

Rosey scoffed at him, for the first time since the two had moved to the couch she turned her head enough to look at him. “Yeah, but you’re you and well. I’m me. You could have literally anybody you wanted if you tried.”

“Except you’re wrong, I can’t have the one girl I truly want.” His mind was fighting his heart. He wanted to risk it all and spill his heart to her right then, but what happens when she doesn’t feel the same way.

Rosey sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "What, are you kidding me?" she asked, her voice still shaky and Luke shook his head. “Don’t worry about that right now, we’re focusing on you.” He pulled her back towards his body, his arms strong and steady around her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, sweet girl.. I wish I could make it better." She buried her face in the side of neck. The feeling of her warm breath on his neck making it hard for him to steady his heartbeat.

“Do you need anything?” Luke asks her wanting to make sure he makes her as comfortable as possible.

She attempted to shake her head from where it laid on his shoulder. “I already have what I needed" Her voice trailed off as she tried to figure out how to say her next few words. “I came straight here because I needed you.”

“Needed me?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. I know that you’re always going to be here for me whenever I need you and you make me feel safe.. Always.” Her words were soft spoken but said with such conviction he wasn’t sure what he was to do or say.

Luke’s heart rate had to be at an unnatural level. He had just been debating on whether or not he should go ahead and tell her why he couldn’t get the girl. And now the girl was telling him, he was ‘what’ she needed.

Was our relationship really just a friendship to her too? Or did she ever think of me as something more. Did Jason see whatever Jack and Quinn seemed to think they see all the time?

While Luke was reeling from everything that was going on in his mind, he hadn’t realized he had dropped out of the embrace that he had been holding her in. Rosey had removed herself from his and sunk into her self, playing with her fingernails worried that she’d said something.

“Luke?” She finally called out his name after a few minutes.

He cleared his throat, trying to pull himself to the present. “Yes, sweet girl?”

“You spaced out, look a bit terrified, and then you slipped away.. Did I say something wrong?

Luke remained silent, shifting his position on the couch.

“Oh.” Rosey’s picking, soon turned to hair twisting signifying the increase in anxiety. “I didn’t think it was a big deal to ne”

In one quick motion Luke was back in her personal space, Rosey was silenced by the shock of his sudden movement. He placed two fingers below her chin lifting her head to look up at him. Their eyes meet and a split second later their lips are connected.

Stunned, was an understatement of how she was feeling in that moment. Still she responded moving and wrapping hers arms around his neck, kissing him back. Luke moved back slightly, breaking their kiss almost as fast as he had initiated it. He placed a hand on her cheek to softly rub his thumb across her cheek. Rosey pulled him back to her. “It wasn’t long enough.” She whispered to him and brushes her lips back across his.

Luke pulled his body back. He pushes his hands through his hair and blows out a big breath.

“The girl Rosey. she’s you. I never wanted to say anything because I’d rather know I have you in my life securely one way than risk it all by admitting how I feel but I can’t sit here any longer.”

“Luke.” Reaching out to cup his cheek and giving him her soft smile.

“Just think if you had said something months ago, you could’ve been doing that any time you wanted to.” She teased him, pulling at his shirt to pull him to her. “Because, what if I told you that the feelings are mutual?” She was grinning at him, their faces inches apart, awaiting his reaction.

He looked at the girl who had his whole heart in the palm of her hands. The girl he’s had to suppress his feelings for by forcing himself to try to have feelings for other girls. The one girl he did have some feelings for, knew that he would never truly love anyone but Rosey.

“Rosey, I’m not joking.. so please.”

“Neither am l Moose. I never in a million decades thought I had a chance of being with you. So are we figuring this out or are you just never going to kiss me again?”

“Oh trust me. I’m definitely kissing you again, many many times again. But first we’re figuring out today’s situation, I am making sure you’re absolutely okay with what happened. I want to make sure that he’s taken care of too. He’s not getting away with nearly hitting you, and then we talk about us. You, your happiness, safety, everything about you has always been and will always be my first priority.” He kisses her forehead as he confirms her hopeful question. “I’m definitely going to get ‘I told you so’s from Jack and Quinn” He chuckled a bit.

“You? They’re going to tease me for crying to them about how I never stood a chance.

The two sunk into the couch cuddling into one another comfortably sitting in the silence that fell over them. Luke’s mind going over what to do about Jason, while Rosey’s had already moved on to thinking of what her and Luke’s time together would be like. Sometime after the two fell asleep cuddled up, nothing their families hadn’t seen before. Only somehow it’s as if Ellen just knew something had shifted between her two beloved babies.

[reticent-writer]

the hashiras + the trio (tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu) reaction to reader, a fellow hashira, getting turned into a demon against their will right in front of them…in the middle of a fight? (reader is crying, and saying, ‘no! i want to be a human. i don’t want to…no, no, no- i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i…was so weak. forgive me…’) and then they’re forced to fight reader, who was so, so friendly and patient with them while they were human…but now, they’re an incredibly strong swordfighting demon, fighting alongside the upper moon demon who turned them. (do they k!ll reader, knock them out and tie them up… or will they turn it into another nezuko situation?…)

(The hashira are seperate but the trio will be together)

Demon slayer masterlist

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Rengoku

He didn't even have to do anything you just passed out

Turns out the rapid change was too much for you body so you were out like a light

When you woke up you were restrained in a windowless room with him sleeping at your bed side

Tengen

He knocked you out by accident while going for the kill

His sword was going for your neck so you dodged by ducking but unfortunately for you his knee was right there

Sanemi

Kills you

I don't think I'd have to explain this much

If Genya was there he'd be protecting you nd swearing to Sanemi that you could be like nezuko

Sanemi, of course, doesn't listen and push him away from you as he goes for the final blow

Obanai

Kills you

Even if you were in a situation like nezukos

It's nothing personal it's just that he doesn't think a demon is capable of control even after meeting nezuko

Muichirou

Before getting his memories back he would kill you but after he wouldn't

Giyuu

He hopes that your situation is like nezuko's

If it is he will tell kagaya about you but not the others and keeps you at his estate

If you aren't like nezuko that would be his 13th reason he would k

Mitsuri

She takes her job as a hashira very seriously

Just the thought of killing you breaks her heart but she doesn't want to out anyone in danger by keeping you alive

She feels like she has to kill you so she does

Shinobu

She cant

Like she literally even if she wanted to

The best she could do was knock you out

The poison wasn't strong enough to kill you, only weaken you

She'll devote herself to finding a cure just like tanjiro did

---------------Trio---------------

What started off as a regular ranked mission turned into a hashira rank as upper moon 3, Akaza, arrived.

A fight started with you all having a major advantage and not giving him a chance to adjust to the constant barade of attacks.

"4 against 1, that's hardly fair. Let's even the playing field, shall we?" Akaza said as he created some distance between all of you. His eyes wondered over each one of you like a predator deciding which to eat first.

His gaze landed on you and before you could react he plunged 2 fingers into you head, allowing his blood to flow into you.

Inosuke acted first, running towards you both swords swinging at Akaza. Tanjiro was next pulling you away from the upper moon as your veins started to show from your skin.

Tanjiro got you a good distance away and laid you on your back, Zenitsu was bouncing all around you in worry. Your eyes we're rolling to the back of your head.

"I- I'm so- rry- I was too.... Too weak" You sobbed as you chocked on your own blood.

Your vision became clouded.

In that moment you lost all control.

Your nails dug into tanjiro's arm as your speech turned inaudible, you tried to pull him toward you in an attempt to bite him.

Zenitsu wrapped his arms around your middle and ripped you away from him.

"CONTROL YOURSELF Y/N" he screeched, tears free falling from his eyes.

Your limbs struck him wildly.

Tanjiro tried to hold your arms.

Inosuke distracted himself with the Akaza. He didn't want what happened to rengoku to happen to you.

"You can fight it y/n, I know you can. Your one of the strongest people I know. PLEASE."

They struggled for hours to get you to calm down.

Akaza left.

Inosuke was ready to beat you into submission if you didn't control yourself.

One punch did the tick and something inside you snapped and everything became clear.

However your body couldn't keep up and so you fell unconscious.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[bitethedevil]

Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?

(I deviated a bit from this ask. Just felt like writing a silly little thing. This one is just Raphael being his dramatic self and a complete ass to Tav lmao. Idk I really had fun with this one but it's not super romantic or anything. It's also not super edited)

Let's Get Divorced (Raphael x Tav)

Tav was in a bar, drinking with the most sweet and handsome man she had ever seen. He was kind, he was interested in her, and he had the cutest smile. It had been a little while since she had last been with someone, so she had high hopes that she would end up in this handsome stranger’s bed later.

Defeating the Netherbrain and getting rid of her tadpole had really done something to her libido. It is as if her brain was still craving that excitement that only multiple near-death experiences can bring a person, and now it was compensating for it by being constantly horny.

She managed to steal a little kiss from the cute man she was drinking with, and she felt her heart beating a little faster. She had him. She was sure of it. She would finally be able to release all that pent up sexual frustration she had.

She went up to the bar to get more drinks and to cool down for a short moment. Her blood was pumping from the kiss. That is when she heard an all too recognizable voice behind her:

“A moment of your time, if you would be so kind, mouse.”

Her heart fell and she turned around. He was looking just as disgruntled as the last time he sought her out and asked her for the Crown. She kept finding excuses for not delivering it to him, even though she had signed his contract. She was way too drunk to have this conversation with Raphael.

“Please,” she said. “Not tonight…”

“Not tonight, not last week, not a month ago,” he said annoyed. “I am running out of patience, dear.”

“And I’m sorry, I’ve been busy…” she said. “I obviously don’t have it on me right now. Just please…not tonight.”

“Busy, are you?” Raphael asked with a sneer. “And what is it that you are so terribly busy with this evening?”

“Uuuh…” Tav said and tried to think of an answer that was not ‘getting laid’, but her mind was not her friend at the moment, and she came up blank.

“That’s what I thought,” Raphael said. “You will take me to it, and you will personally hand it to me, tonight. I am not leaving before I have the Crown of Karsus in my hands.”

“Tomorrow, please,” she pleaded. “Come by tomorrow, and I promise you that I will give it to you.”

Her eyes quickly went to the man she had been talking to and she could see that he was staring at the two of them.

“Please, Raphael,” she said again.

Raphael slowly turned at looked at who she was looking at, before turning back to her.

“Is that what you are so occupied with?” Raphael asked her. “Chasing boys?”

“No…” she said.

Raphael gave her a look.

“Yes…” she admitted. “So what? Look, I promise I will hand you the Crown tomorrow. I will even place it on your head for you, just…let me have tonight…please.”

“You make me come to this disgusting establishment, you waste my time, you find excuse after excuse…” Raphael hissed at her. “I will not abide it, little mouse.”

“’Little mouse’?” she heard a voice behind Raphael ask. “Is he your husband or something?”

Her eyes widened slightly. Raphael’s anger disappeared the moment he heard the voice behind him, and a cruel smile spread across his face as he looked into Tav’s eyes.

“He is,” Raphael said smoothly and turned around to face the man she had been talking to. He put an arm around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him. “And you are?”

The man’s eyes went back and forth from Tav to Raphael in confusion. Tav was just as confused as to what just happened. She laughed nervously.

“Oh, he’s not…” she explained and pointed at Raphael. “I’m not married.”

“This again, my love?” Raphael asked her with feigned hurt and then looked at the man to address him. “She claims that she does not get enough attention at home, my little mouse.”

“Hahaaa, very funny. I have no idea what—” she said but was interrupted by Raphael, as his arm tightened around her waist.

“It is not the first time I have had to collect her from one of the city’s taverns, of course,” Raphael said with a dramatic sigh. “She keeps throwing herself at the patrons, you see. She can get quite unpleasant when she drinks too much.”

“He is not my husband!” Tav said to the man and tried to pry Raphael’s grip off her waist.

“I…I’m sorry, sir,” the man said to Raphael. “She never told me she was married.”

“I’m not!” she said loudly, still trying to squirm out of Raphael’s grip.

“Oh, that does sound like her,” Raphael said and punctuated it with a patronizing tap on her nose, still effortlessly holding her, despite her putting in her full strength in to get out of his grasp. “She has always been inclined to forget her obligations, isn’t that right, dearest?”

She looked the poor, sweet man who looked so confused and sad at the revelation. The whole situation was extremely awkward.

“Raphael, I will get you the damn…thing…” she said through gritted teeth, looking Raphael in the eyes. “Tell him that we are not married!”

“You say such hurtful things when you drink, my love,” Raphael said. She could see that he was fully enjoying this.

“Again, I am truly sorry for this misunderstanding,” the man said. “I will just…go…”

“No, no, don’t go. He is not my husband. He is a literal devil!” she said to him.

“She likes to exaggerate, don’t you, dear? Come, let us go home,” Raphael said to her as if he was dealing with an insane person and started dragging her out of the bar.

“But—” she said and took one last glance at the man as she was being pulled away.

Raphael only let go of her once they were outside the bar.

“It seems that your oh-so-busy schedule has been cleared,” Raphael said with a smile. “Now, take me to it.”

“There is no way that I would ever have married you of all people, just to make that clear,” Tav grumbled, slightly slurring. “Even the idea of it is offensive.”

“Oh, you wound me,” Raphael said with a cold expression. “Although, much like a marriage, we are bound together unless you fulfill your part of the deal. Of course, with us it is less of a ‘till death do us part’ arrangement and more of a… ‘when your death do us unite’ sort of thing. Let me remind you that I still have a contract, with your signature on it, that promises me your soul if you do not hand me the crown. As things currently stand, I own you, little mouse.”

Tav sighed deeply.

“Let’s go get fucking divorced then, I guess,” she drunkenly mumbled and turned to walk towards the direction of her house, to go get the crown for him, so that her part of the deal was fulfilled.

Raphael mood seemed to brighten at her surrender, and he offered her his arm to take as they started walking towards her home. Tav linked arms with him not to stumble.

She was moping about the fact that Raphael had ruined her chances at going home with someone. It was as if Raphael had read her mind.

“Before we do, I want to express how grateful I am that you finally came to your senses,” Raphael purred. “I am not without generosity for those who help me, and you clearly had a goal in mind for tonight. I would be a neglectful husband to leave my little mouse wanting, would I not?”

Tav’s brow furrowed as she looked at him. He smirked at her. Her eyes widened in realization.

…Oh?

[sage-green-matcha]

Hi, doll!

Sorry to disturb you, but I had an idea for a request if that's okay! 💖

So, ethan landry x reader who was involved in the woodsboro massacre in 2022, and moved to nyc as anika's roommate, and ethan had an obsession with her and when they eventually get together, she stays at his and finds a gf mask, knife and costume in his closet, and she confronts him. You can choose the ending!

Sorry if I disturbed you, I love your writing 💗💗

FRIEND - ETHAN LANDRY 🫧

“And I hate the way you love me and I hate that I still care. Funny how you feel like we would ever talk again, how could you think I'd be your friend?” - Gracie Abrams 

Content includes: gf!Ethan, Betrayal, angst, Halloween party! Mentions of blood!

A/n: I was listening to this song and realized how well it matched with this request! This is a bit fast paced so I’m sorry! I didn’t want it to be too long 😭🫶

<3

<3

<3

"Anika! What are you wearing to the Halloween party?" Your voice echoed through the walkway of your dorm, Anika peeking out of the bathroom.

"A pumpkin!"

You cringed as you looked at the basic, green cheerleader outfit laid on your bed. You just sighed, slipping the tight green set over your body.

You rarely went to parties, but Chad insisted he had someone he wanted you to meet. He didn't leave you alone until you finally said yes.

And you knew he'd show up at your door with the rando if you didn't show up.

"Is it giving the girl from murder party?" You asked as Anika peeked in your door, watching you apply a bold color to your lips.

"Yeah! Just make yourself a zombie"

As soon as you got to the house everyone went their separate ways. Your lipstick rubbed on the side of your red cup, smooth liquor running down your throat.

"Y/n! Hey!" Tara slipped her arm under you, balancing herself on your body.

"Well, you're fucked" You chuckled under your breath. She just shook her head, readjusting her bandana.

"Is Sam here?" You should've known better than to ask a dumb question like that. Sam would never be caught at a house party, especially not after what happened last year.

"No, never" She poured herself a shot, pulling away from you before she waved, walking away with a smile.

You wandered around the house for a while, mostly trying to find the bathroom to fix your hair.

The air was hot and you could feel yourself start to sweat, getting slightly frustrated as you walked.

You passed through the heavily crowded hallway, your costume getting stuck on someone else's.

"Oh shit, sorry about that"

A pair of hands tugged on the green fabric of your skirt, unsticking it from a sharp piece of cardboard and tape.

"Oh shit, you're Ethan right?"

He smiled at your words, nodding his head.

"Nice costume, Guess we're matching"

"What a coincidence"

But it wasn't a coincidence. Ethan knew what you were gonna dress up as. He had known for days, since the first time you went to the costume store just hours before this. When you were slipping the costume on.

He had been stalking you for weeks. Since the semester started he got closer to Chad just to get closer to you. This was just the first step in a master plan.

"So you two finally met! And you're wearing nerd costumes, great" Chad sighed as he rubbed his temples, hitting Ethan harshly on his back.

"This isn't a nerdy costume" You rolled your eyes as Ethan nodded, smiling to himself while trying to hold in his anger.

Every time he was with Chad it was like a ticking bomb. He was so excited to kill him. To get revenge and to take you away from him. Since Chad definitely had a little something for you.

He tried his best not to show how jealous he was when Chad wrapped his arm around you, dragging you to the kitchen to take shots.

You looked back at Ethan with a small smile, his heart beating faster as he waved at you.

For the next week, it felt like all you did was talk to Ethan. You would call for hours despite only having met him once before.

Ethan was excited, the plan was going better than he could've ever imagined.

The two of you shared a lot of similar interests, sure Ethan knew a lot of them already but he was surprised to see you enjoyed other things he enjoyed as well.

Your relationship slowly started to grow, becoming more than just friends after a while.

"Okay, that's enough" Mindy cringed as Ethan squeezed your waist, his smile pressed up to your neck.

"We might die and you two are basically fucking in front of all of us"

"We never say anything about you and Ani!" You furrowed your eyebrows, Mindy continuously shaking her head.

The night ended and you and Ethan were put on cleaning duty, and since you were such a good girlfriend you decided to clean his room for him.

It was always messy, with snack wrappers and empty water bottles covering his nightstand.

You dragged the trash can Into his room, handfuls of trash into the can.

"God Eth, your rooms a mess" You mumbled under your breath, shaking off his bedsheets.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you spotted a thin black cloth peeking from under his bed.

At first, you thought it was probably just a hoodie or something, but when you pulled it out you were more than wrong.

Your fingertips were stained with fresh blood, wiping it quickly on your jeans. The more you looked underneath the bed the more you found.

You finally screamed when you found a poorly cleaned knife in a ghost face mask, dropping the items in horror.

"Really, Y/n?" He sighed at the sight in front of him, your eyes blurry with tears.

"What is that Ethan? Why do you have that?"

"You weren't supposed to find out Y/n. I'm sorry, I really am"

You were confused at his words, backing up slowly until your body made a small thud against the wall.

"Are you gonna kill me?" Your voice hitched as he went to grab the knife on the ground, his finger gently tracing the blade of the weapon.

"I would literally never hurt you, Y/n. I'm protecting you. And I have been for months now"

His tone was distorted, getting more and more defensive with each step he took towards you.

You couldn't believe this was happening to you again. And the fact that Ethan was the one behind all of it broke your heart.

"It was innocent at first. But you were just so stubborn weren't you? Had to do some more research and find out what you were gonna be for Halloween"

You gulped, knowing the only person who knew your costume was Anika.

"You were stalking me?" You weren't crying anymore, instead you were angry.

You were so tired of the ghost face shit following you everywhere you went.

You showed him your stab wounds, not knowing he was probably gonna try to stab you right there again.

"It was Innocent...Y/n, please. I love you"

Your eyebrows furrowed, a scoff escaping your lips.

"You really think I'm still gonna be with you after this? Ethan, I'm not a criminal. I'm not like you. You were probably gonna kill me next! What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?"

He gulped, tears forming in his eyes. He needed to cry, it was the only way to make you feel pity towards him.

But he should’ve known that would’ve never worked, especially not with you.

“Are you seriously fucking crying? Ethan, you’re a killer, you killed all those innocent people!”

Your lips quivered as you tried to hold back tears. You couldn’t cry, you needed him to know you weren’t scared. You were, but you only needed him to see your anger.

“That was my dad, it was Detective Bailey”

Your mouth dropped, rubbing your eyes as Ethan sat on the bed, sad while he watched you pacing around the room.

“You’re a fucking psychopath”

“But you love me” His words came out so confidently, your eyes giving him a stern and annoyed look.

But even under all of it Ethan could see the sadness and fear in your eyes, he knew he would get you back eventually. One way or another.

[babyhatesreality]

Hey!!! I loved your lates fic here

But I’m not sure how to think about Steve.

Would he still give her time out bc he thinks she is lying about something daddy said when she is telling the truth?

Imagine she gets in a little argument with another little one and the other one is telling her Papa that she said something mean/ a no no word. Would he believe his little one? Bc I don’t think so ☹️

AAAHHHHH I HAVE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD SINCE DAY ONE SO THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO WRITE IT!!! <3

Listen to your Little

Pairing: Daddy! Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, anxiety, mentions of past emotional upheaval, someone tells lies, mistrust, baby gets unfairly punished, mean Papa, mean Daddy, angst, fluffity fluff fluff fluff, everything gets worked out in the end because I always need a happy ending.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

A/N- this takes place about 2 weeks after you've moved in with Stucky, when you're still- unbeknowst to you- in your probationary period with SHIELD.

You were excited- and nervous- but mostly excited! It was your first play date with Wanda and Pietro since moving in with your daddies. You'd all met before of course, at the big welcome-to-the-family party, and gotten along famously. But this was the first time you were going over to Aunt Natasha's and Uncle Bruce's apartment to play. You and Wanda had bonded over your mutual love of Care Bears and My Little Ponies, and you were super excited to see her collection and play ponies again. You were nervous about Pietro, though. He wasn't exactly mean to you, but he didn't like that Wanda paid more attention to you than to him when you both were together. He also didn't like that you and Peter got so close, so quickly.

"C'mon, none of that now," Bucky said gently, pulling your fingers out of your mouth as he bounced you in his arms. The three of you were making your way to the elevator to go to the Banner/Romanoff floor. Bucky had noticed that you were a little hesitant when you'd left the apartment, so he had immediately scooped you up to snuggle you on the way. You had started chewing on your fingers, a sign that he'd only recently learned meant that you were feeling distress. "I don't want you to bite your fingers off. That's MY job," he teased, before pretending to eat your fingers playfully. You squealed and giggled for a moment, but eventually laid your head on his shoulder with a tiny sigh.

"What's the matter, Lovebug?" Steve asked, leaning into your view point and rubbing your back soothingly. "Are you feeling okay?" He looked around as they stepped into the elevator. He knew that SHIELD was watching their every move, and if something was wrong with you, by god he was going to figure it out in a heartbeat. He kept patting you, but you didn't speak until the doors to the elevator had closed.

"What if....what if dey don't like me?" you said, just loud enough for them to hear it.

"Wanda and Pietro?" Steve asked in surprise. "They already like you, angel. Remember how you and Wanda were playing that you were the little ponies just two nights ago?"

"MY little ponies," you corrected, your head popping up to make sure your Papa understood the very important difference in wording. He smiled.

"Sorry, MY little ponies," he said, booping you on the nose. "You two had so much fun that you fell asleep before you could finish telling us all about it, remember?" He and Bucky shared a private smirk; that had been the night they had discovered that letting you tell your own stories at bedtime was a bad idea. You had literally not stopped talking during your bath, pajamas, and being tucked into their bed. They found it so cute that they couldn't bear to stop you, but you'd continued for a good hour past bedtime until your exhausted body overcame your brain and you'd fallen asleep mid-sentence.

That hadn't gone over terribly well with the review board. They understood that Steve and Bucky hadn't wanted to stifle you, but they were concerned that not adhering to a strict schedule, no matter what, might set a bad precedent. From then on, Steve and Bucky had been fastidious about your bedtime routine. They weren't risking anything that could potentially 'set a bad precedent' and get you taken away from them.

You didn't know any of that of course- all you knew was that you were feeing a little anxious about the visit. When you didn't answer Steve right away, he continued trying to help you through this. "Tell you what, Katie Cat," he said, grinning when you smiled softly at the special nickname. "If you feel icky, or if something is bothering you, you can tell me or Daddy, and we'll all come back home. Okay?"

"Don't wanna spoil your fun..." you mumbled into Bucky's shoulder. Bucky and Steve locked eyes for a moment. They had prepared for things like this. In all of the time the three of you had spent together before this, you'd been very honest about your issues with abandonment and self-worth, and how it all tied into your need to regress. You were scared to death to do anything that might make your new and already-beloved daddies mad or upset, no matter how little it seemed.

"Baby, this time is for you, okay?" Steve said reassuringly. "We just want you to have fun with your new little friends. Daddy and I see Aunt Natasha and Uncle Bruce all the time, so if you need to leave, you're not spoiling anything. Everyone will understand, and no one will be mad. Okay?"

"Otay," you whispered back, a shy smile on your face. Bucky pressed a kiss into your hair.

"That's our girl," he said, nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. "Do you want a paci so you don't chew on your fingers again?"

You shook your head. "No, tank you," you said politely, making them both melt. "Gonna be a big girl." You leaned back and looked at Bucky, tilting your head. If you were gonna be a big girl, you really should be walking by yourself...."Big girl later," you decided, then nuzzled back into the safety of Daddy's shoulder, making him chuckle.

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

An hour later, you wondered what on earth you'd been nervous about. Wanda, Pietro, and you were currently playing the most fabulous game of Chutes and Ladders ever. The three of you had started the playdate with exploring their playroom. You were in absolute awe of the colorful and joyous chaos, and they had delighted in showing you everything. Then came the games. You hadn't played such a raucous, noisy version of Chutes and Ladders in so long and it was a blast. You were also apparently really good at it, as you placed your token on the winning block for the second time in a row.

"Wow! You are SO good at this game, Katie!" Wanda cheered, leaning over to give you a high five. "Here, high five Buttons now," she instructed, holding up her favorite teddy. You giggled and gently high fived his paw, making her laugh.

"That's not fair, that you won two games in a row," Pietro interjected suddenly into your joy. You quickly dropped your hand, feeling awkward. Pietro had been fine, if not a little quiet, when you won the first time, but it seemed like two times was his limit. You started feeling that little prickle of anxiety that you had when you were coming here.

"You're just jealous that she won and you LOST," Wanda said, sticking her tongue out. Pietro jumped up, enraged at his sister.

"I'm gonna tell Mommy that you stuck your tongue out!" he announced triumphantly.

"Then I'M gonna tell her that you're being mean to us and you'll get a time out," Wanda shot back, glaring at her brother. Pietro scowled at her, but sat back down.

"We're gonna play again and this time I'M gonna win," he grumbled.

"We don't hafta play dis game," you said hesitantly. "We can play something else. Whachu wanna play?" You bit your lip- you didn't want to lose your new friends on your very first playdate.

"This and I'm gonna win," he declared. You exchanged a quick look with Wanda, who shrugged and put her piece back at the starting block. Not wanting to rock the boat anymore than you accidentally already had, you quietly put your piece back at the beginning too.

You subtly tried to flick the spinner so you'd land on the lower numbers, but Wanda caught on immediately. "No, you gotta do it right. I want you to win again!" she said, making you retake your turn. You sighed and flicked, and of course, landed on a square that gave you a huge ladder up.

"You cheated!" Pietro said, pointing at Wanda after he realized how far ahead this made you in the game. "You made her go again and that's cheating!"

"Nuh-uh!" Wanda said hotly. "You're trying to cheat 'cause you wanna win."

"You're a big ol' dumbbell!" Pietro yelled at her. Your anxiety suddenly turned to anger at his exclamation. You knew that name calling was absolutely not allowed from any of you. On top of that, Pietro was just being mean. No one messed with your friends!

"Please stop being mean," you said, pushing yourself up to stand on your knees. You weren't quite brave enough to stand all the way up, but you definitely couldn't stay seated when your friend was being called names. Pietro's eyes narrowed at you menacingly.

"What did you say?" he said, almost daring you to say it again.

"I said please stop being mean!" you said, louder than you intended. Before you could even take a breath, Pietro zoomed out of the room. You looked at Wanda, startled. "Wha' happened?" you asked nervously. You knew that the twins weren't supposed to use their powers when they weren't on missions, so something bad obviously just happened for him to break the rules like that.

Just then, you heard loud steps pounding down the hallway. "Kaitlyn!" Papa scolded loudly as he came around the corner and into the room. You hadn't heard that tone from him before. You sat back down in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What did you do for him to use your full name like that? "Pietro said that you were calling him names," he accused you, his hands on his hips and fire in his eyes.

"Wh-wha'? No, I didn't," you stammered, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out what was happening.

"No, Uncle Steve, she-" Wanda piped up. But Steve held up a hand to her.

"Not now, sweetie," he said, his tone just a touch softer, before he turned his glare back to you. You felt yourself shrinking down, feeling even littler than normal. "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Steve scolded, his blue eyes narrowing at you.

"Papa, I didn' say nuffin' bad-"

"You know better than to call names, little girl," he said, almost as if you hadn't spoken. "There is no excuse for that kind of behavior. You don't treat your friends like that, and you don't call names, EVER."

"But-"

"But nothing. Come here, right now," he said, pointing to his feet. Scared to death, you shut your mouth and scrambled to get up and stand at his feet. "You're getting a time out," Steve said angrily, putting his hand on your back and ushering you out of the playroom.

You desperately wanted a chance to defend yourself, to ask why Papa believed that you would be so naughty. You looked up at him and inhaled as if to speak, but he immediately pointed a finger in your face. "Hush," he scolded. "Not one word." You obediently shut your mouth and tried to keep the tears from falling.

Steve led you to an empty corner in the dining room where he, Bucky, and Natasha had been sitting and chatting. Natasha and Bucky were nowhere to be seen, though. Steve made sure your nose was firmly in the corner before sitting down in the chair closest to you. "Now you think about what you've done, and when your time out it over, you're going to apologize to Pietro." It took everything within you not to make a sound or turn around at this injustice, but the fear of making Papa even angrier kept you in your place. You knew that you were not to move or make a sound in time out unless you wanted a longer one, so you kept yourself still.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching. "Oh no," Bucky said when he saw you. "What did she do?" he asked Steve. You could hear the touch of steel in his tone, making you even more frightened.

"She called Pietro a name while they were playing their game," Steve responded, his own voice still tight with anger. "I let her know that is completely unacceptable, and she'll be apologizing when it's all over."

"Name calling?" Bucky said incredulously. He knew you had a mischievous streak a mile wide, but you had never been anything other than sweet and playful. He would never have thought you capable of that in a million years. His mind was blown at his sweet little angel being that mean.

"Apparently, they were playing a game, and when Pietro said something about wanting to win this round, she called him a 'dumb meanie-head'."

"What?!" Bucky yelled as you trembled in the corner. "Oh, she's writing lines tonight too. We are NOT letting her get away with this kind of behavior." Your insides quaked- now they were both against you and you hadn't even done anything.

"Hang on," Aunt Natasha said suddenly. "What exactly did Pietro say?" she questioned her oldest friend.

"He sped in here very upset-"

"He used his powers?"

"Yes. I don't think he meant to be bad, he was just worked up," Steve explained. You tensed up in the corner at Papa making excuses for Pietro, but still not defending you. Unbeknownst to you, Natasha noticed.

"Hmmm," she said, pressing her lips together as she thought. "Just out of curiosity, did Wanda say anything?" You couldn't see it from your viewpoint of the two walls, but the rest of the room saw Steve blush, slightly.

"Well, she tried to say something, but I...didn't let her," he said, a tad bit sheepishly. "I didn't want her to try to lie to get Katie out of trouble. We...can't take any chances right now. We need to make sure that we're...providing a healthy environment with boundaries and rules. We're not taking any chances. Not with our little girl."

Natasha knew exactly what Steve meant and that his heart was in the right place, but she also realized that you didn't fully understand all the larger implications at play here. And she knew her twins well enough to know that there was probably a lot more to the story.

"I hear you," Natasha said. "And I understand. But...just indulge me for a moment." She waited to get the nod from both Steve and Bucky before calling down the hallway. "Wanda? Pietro? Come into the dining room, please."

You tried your hardest not to fidget, but this was the worst. Your new friend and your now-mortal enemy were going to see you in trouble, and that was so embarrassing you started to silently cry again, biting down on your lip to not make a sound. You heard two pairs of feet shuffle in, but then the silence was shattered by your defender.

"No, that's not fair!" Wanda shrieked, pointing at you still stuck in the corner. "Katie didn't even do anything!!" At that, the room exploded into accusations and soothing words and frustration and anxiety, until finally Natasha made herself heard over everyone.

"Alright, ALRIGHT!" she shouted everyone down. "Wanda, tell me what happened." Pietro made a sound of indignation, but was quickly silenced. "You'll get your chance, Pietro. But Wanda is going first."

Much to your relief, Wanda quickly told the story of what actually happened, emphasizing that you had NOT called Pietro a name- you'd simply said that he was being mean. "Which he WAS," she finished sulkily, glaring at him.

A horrible, sinking feeling was settling into the pit of Steve's stomach. "Pietro, you told me that she called you a dumb meanie-head," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking at the amount of damage he might have just done.

"It's what she MEANT," Pietro replied hotly after stammering for a moment, caught in his lie.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Wanda shrieked, outraged on your behalf. Pietro immediately started yelling back. Natasha quickly broke the argument up as Steve and Bucky both spun towards you.

"Oh my god, angel, I am so sorry," Steve said, his eyes brimming with tears. When you didn't make a move, his heart stopped for a second before he realized- he hadn't given you permission to leave the corner yet. You were being his good little girl, as always. "Lovebug, please come out of the corner. You should never have been in there and Papa is so very sorry."

You turned to him but couldn't look him in the eye. You didn't want him to see the tears that were still streaming down your face. But there was no way that he could have missed them. In an instant, he was crushing you to his chest, dropping kiss after kiss on top of your head in between apology after apology. "I am so sorry I didn't give you a chance to tell your side of the story, baby. Papa was very, very naughty today."

Bucky reached out and rubbed the parts of your back that he could touch, as you were still firmly held in Steve's arms. "And I'm sorry too, that I just jumped to conclusions," Bucky apologized as well. As someone who'd lost his own voice for years, he felt doubly guilty at taking away yours. "I will never do that again baby, I promise. Okay?" He moved in a little closer, exchanging a worried look with Steve when you didn't answer. "Angel?" he said softly. "Can you talk to me and Papa please?"

You finally turned your tear-stained face up to Steve. "I wann'ed to be a good girl today," you finally sobbed out. "Was I bad?" You were still too little to fully understand everything that had happened, but you were feeling some awful big feels.

"No Angel, you weren't bad at all," Steve said, feeling lower than shit. "You were very good to try to stand up for your friend, and I'm very very sorry that I didn't listen when you tried to tell me what happened. You are my good baby and you always will be." Steve expected you to yank yourself out of his arms and his life forever for his colossal fuck up, but the exact opposite happened instead.

You threw your arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as you could. You were so relieved that you hadn't been bad, and that things seemed to be getting back to normal, that all you could do was hold on to your Papa for dear life.

Natasha had let Pietro have his say while you and your daddies had been making up, but once he realized he was caught, he begrudgingly admitted that he had lied. He said that he'd been mad that he hadn't won and waited until Natasha wasn't near Uncle Steve to tattle. Natasha sent Pietro to his room promptly with the promise of a "long talk tonight with me and Daddy". She let Wanda worm her way into Steve's arms to hug you too. Wanda declared you the forever winner of Chutes and Ladders.

Steve and Bucky were both looking at Natasha, panic screaming in their eyes. What on earth was the board going to do with this? Would this be enough for them to take you away from them? However, Natasha smiled. "I got this," she said lovingly to her friends. She knew exactly how to manage this one with that damn board....

Later that night, Steve and Bucky each presented you with a piece of paper, in which they both had written "I will listen to my little girl" one hundred times each. Steve did two hundred, out of sheer guilt for putting you in time out on top of everything else. Your giggle at their self-induced punishments and the subsequent snuggle session started to make everything look a lot brighter.

The next morning, you were back to your normal happy-go-lucky self, thrilled with being babysat by Kate for the day. You had given your daddies big hugs and kisses before they left, promising to be good. Steve and Bucky, still feeling the residual pangs of guilt, made their way to their only meeting of the day, but one that they were very much ready for.

Natasha smiled as they closed the conference room door behind them. "Welcome gentlemen," she said, slightly teasing as they both took their seats sheepishly. "Welcome to 'Listening to your Little, 101'."

[lizardlicks]

Momo surprise

“I’m a little worried about Momo,” Aang said to his friends as they gathered around the morning campfire and started preparing for their day. “He’s been acting kind of off lately.”

The lemur in question was fussily nosing around Aang's abandoned bedroll in tight circles. As the group of teens watched, he laid down in a curl, chirped unhappily then got up and resumed tugging and scratching at the bedding. “How can you tell?” Sokka asked. He was by no means a lemur behavior expert. To him all of Momo’s actions were strange. It was possible that Aang's Avatar-ness gave him some kind of spirit connection to flying lemurs. Unlikely, but still possible.

“He doesn’t have as much energy, even though he’s sleeping more.” Aang explained, frowning. “You don’t think he’s sick, do you?”

“Maybe it’s the climate?” Katara offered helpfully. She wasn’t a lemur expert either, but she and Sokka had struggled the first few weeks with adjusting to the Earth Kingdom’s warmer weather. As far as she or anybody else knew, Momo has lived his entire life in the towering, windswept peaks around the Southern Air Temple, so maybe the sudden change had affected him too, she reasoned. 

“It’s because you’ve been giving him too many treats,” Sokka told Aang matter-of-factly. Lemurs were outside of his wheelhouse, but he'd helped the older boys with conditioning the polar dogs for sled pulling every fall. Spoiled pups turned lazy and fat, a hard lesson to learn for the littler children who only wanted to express their love.

“You think so?” Aang looked contrite.

“Yup,” Sokka said as he reached to snag a piece of star berry off the board Katara was using to prepare their breakfast. He snatched his hand back with a squawk when she smacked him.

“He is looking a little pudgy, Aang,” Katara said without taking her eyes off the food. Poaching brothers were too wily to be given that kind of an opening.

“Monkey feathers. I just can’t resist him when he gives me The Eyes.”

“I know,” Katara agreed. “He’s weaponized his cuteness.” “You’re going to have to.” Sokka nimbly dodged a sister elbow, but he still didn’t quite manage to snag any tidbits from Katara’s pile of fruit. “It’s for his own good.”

Momo, apparently noticing he was being talked about, finally abandoned the bedding to perch on Katara’s knee. “No, bad lemur!” She snatched her cutting board up and held it over her head. “No more extras for you!”

Sokka whooped in victory as he snagged a slice of moon peach and popped it into his mouth before Katara could adjust her defenses. “You’re on a diet, mister,” he informed the lemur as he sucked the juice from his fingers.

Momo chittered and pinned his ears back.

“Sorry, buddy,” Aang said regretfully as he scooped Momo up and tucked him into the crook of his elbow. “I already gave you a big handful of lychee nuts when you woke me up, you’re gonna have to wait until lunch time for more food.”

Aang could never quite tell just how much human speech Momo understood, but the lemur appeared to grasp something about the situation. He curled his tail around and grasped it anxiously, cooing at Aang with all the force of The Eyes that one tiny flying mammal could muster.

Aang held strong. For all of three seconds. “Okay... well. Maybe a couple berries wouldn’t hurt?”

--------

“AAAAAANG!”

The young monk bolted upright in his bedroll at the sound of his name, startled out of a sound sleep. Sokka was loud. Loud and very upset.

“What!? What is it?” He blinked several times, then rubbed at his face, trying to get his eyes to focus on anything distinct before he realized the reason he couldn't see anything was because dawn was still hours away. The moon hung in the sky, a crescent barely thicker than a thumbnail, with no light to offer. Hedgegoosebumps broke out across his arms. Aang hugged himself as the night pressed in, suddenly no longer a sheltering veil, but full of hidden threat from enemies he couldn’t see. 

The sleeping lump to his right rustled and shifted as Katara sat up in her bed roll. “Sokka-haaah,” her voice stuttered, breaking off with a yawn. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? What’s wrong!?” Sokka was rapidly climbing in pitch with each repetition. “Why don’t you look at this situation and tell me, huh?”

“Uhh.” Aang squinted into the dark and tried to make sense of their camp. Appa was still peacefully snoring several yards away, completely oblivious to the sudden chaos. Katara was wiggling and shuffling her way out of her sleeping bag, growling unflattering things at Sokka under her breath, and Sokka. Sokka was standing in the middle of their sleeping circle. He looked like he was holding something, but Aang could not for the life of him see what it was.

“We can't see anything without light, Sokka,” Katara groused. She finally won her struggle with her sleeping roll and started patting around for her bag. “You couldn't have lit a fire before you started yelling loud enough to alert the Fire Lord himself?”

“Oh, gee, why didn't I think of that! Could it possibly be because I'm dealing with Aang's mess over here!?”

Aang didn't remember leaving a mess. In fact he'd been careful to pack up everything before turning in for the night just in case they had to make a quick getaway. A few too many lost supplies had trained him quickly.

“What are you talking about?” He asked while stretching, less alarmed now that he knew Sokka was just. Well, being Sokka. They weren't being attacked, there was no life or death situation he had to fight through in the pitch dark.

Katara, having retrieved some kindling from her pack, scooted over to their banked campfire and began to poke the coals awake. She had apparently given up any hope of going back to sleep until her brother was sorted out. Even Appa was starting to rumble awake with the commotion.

“You said Momo was a boy!” Sokka hissed. 

Aang. Blinked. “Yeah?” he said, uncertainty clouding his mind. He must still be dreaming, why would Sokka wake up the whole camp to debate their pet’s gender?

“Then explain this!” Sokka shoved his cupped hands out, away from the protective shield of his body, just as the fire flared with a pop and Katara's satisfied grunt.

Cradled in between his palms, fur still sodden and sticking, was the teeniest, tiniest lemur Aang had ever seen.

[mcntsee]

deer y/n,

Summary: First part of letters to her. I recommend reading the prologue first.

Warnings: Ooc Kaz Brekker, I think one cuss word, terrible writing.

Note: Here it is! First part of the letters to her series. This is super short, I was struggling to figure out what to write for this letter, but I promise the rest are better. I am also trying a new writing style. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Oh my.”

“What is it?”

Y/n managed to misplace her necklace—yet again—turning what was supposed to be a delightful date into a search mission for the elusive piece of jewelry.

Kaz was grateful she had agreed to getting some food and dining in. The past week had been a whirlwind of meetings with everyone in the forsaken city, leaving him overwhelmed. He'd endured an excessive amount of handshakes, enough to last a year, maybe three.

But Y/n understood. After all, she had been by his side since he could remember, never passing judgment on him for anything.

"Love?" He called out again. Kaz despised the silence. It could only mean two things: something good or something really bad.

“Y/n?” Usually, he was the type to lean towards options that gave him more than a fifty-fifty chance.

“Y/n!”

“Yes! Sorry I just-“

He found her in the dining room. “What is it?” As he approached, he noticed she was holding something in her hand. However, before he even had the chance to ask about it, she turned, fully facing him with her hand extended out.

"This," she said, glancing at what Kaz now recognized as an aged letter, "happens to be the first letter you ever wrote me."

She cleared her throat, preparing to read the letter to him.

“Deer Y/n,”

“For fuck’s sake.”

Kaz remembered that day with as much clarity as he remembered his lunch from a couple of hours ago.

It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, no. Yet, he remembered it nonetheless.

“What is the matter with you?”

"Deer." He pointed at the word that was meant to be 'dear'. "Are you not reading?"

“I am and I’m well aware of the fact that is says deer. Once again, what’s the matter with you?”

“Can you put it away, it’s embarrassing.”

“Kaz, you were five.”

He had indeed been five, and apparently, not the brightest when it came to spelling. However, he laid the blame on his dad, who assured him it had looked good enough to send.

“How do you even have that still?”

“I could never lose it.”

“It’s just a letter, Y/n.”

“The first letter I ever got from you.” She corrected.

“It’s still just a letter, Y/n.”

“Whatever Kaz. It’s my most priced possession.”

He could tell she intended to keep reading the letter, but as her mouth open to let out the words, he noticed a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That and the drawing, of course.”

“The drawing?”

“The drawing.”

Kaz really had thought that it couldn’t get worse. Of course he hadn’t needed her to read the letter for him, so he had more than enough time to realize just how bad his grammar had once been.

But then, she decided to turn back around to grab the drawning and show him.

“I miss spots.” she said. In truth, he shared that sentiment. Spots had been his first and only pet.

He had entertained the idea of getting another pet with her. Perhaps another feline, or a loyal canine. Maybe even a crow. A replacement for the family he knew he couldn’t provide to her. “He was a great cat.”

“Indeed. He had to put up with you everyday.”

“I-, You know what? Same goes for you.”

That laugh. He was convinced that her laughter was the only force capable of resurrecting him from death. That and her eyes, of course, especially when they sparkled with mischievousness.

“Wait! Look,” Before he had a chance to see what she was pointing at, she covered the letter with her hand, completely defeating the purpose of asking someone to look.

“I am trying.”

"No, wait. Before I show you, you know how you always ask why I always sign: Love, my name, and then an exclamation mark with a heart instead of a dot?"

If he was honest, the question about her peculiar signature had crossed his mind only a couple of times. However, with the letter concealed and her mischievous grin, he wondered if uncovering the reason was a journey worth embarking on. “Mhmm...”

“Look!” She said while pointing at Kaz’s - or, well, five year old kaz’s signature. “Look, look, look, look, look.” Kaz couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, but he still couldn’t fathom why she was making such a fuss over his childhood attempt at penmanship. “Sweetheart, I am looking.”

There it was, his old signature in all its glory, proudly proclaiming, "Love, Kaz!"

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any of it True? // ALTERNATE ANGST ENDING

Based on this request! 🖤

A/N: Here we go again! The beginning is the same, the new angsty ending starts after the row of black hearts. 🖤🖤🖤 (This one really hurt my feelings, friends 😭)

Word Count: 10.5k 

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

No matter what you did, you couldn’t unsee it: Claire’s smirk, her eyes alight with evil joy as she watched you unravel before everyone at that party. The party that you were only at because you trusted Azriel, loved him. 

You couldn’t get Azriel’s words out of your head. I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.

It had been easy for him. You melted like putty in his hands from the first time he touched you. Humiliation rolled through you in a wave again, even if there was nobody to see it. You had never cared much what other people thought of you. It was something you had always taken pride in. But this… this was an embarrassment, a hurt that ran bone deep. 

And that nickname for you, the one that sent butterflies through your stomach every time he said it, had come from there, from that awful deal he had made to publicly break your heart.

You couldn’t understand how to put the pieces together of the Azriel you knew and the Azriel who would do this, who had willingly hurt you so badly. It didn’t make any sense. It probably never would.

Thinking back to him calling after you on that dark street, your breath coming to you in short, shallow gulps, he had said that he had called off the deal, that he didn’t know she had filmed it. Like that was supposed to make it better. 

All it meant was that he wouldn’t have told you. You may have spent your whole life with him, and he would’ve kept that secret, forever hiding the fact that he had only noticed you because his girlfriend hated you.

And you would have spent your whole life with him, if he had let you. That was the worst part. You really did love him more than you had ever loved anyone, felt more than you ever knew you could. 

The love had been real, you knew, even if it hadn’t started out that way. That just made it more unbearable.

Dread filled your very bones as September drew closer, of the inevitable moment when you would have to see him again, lay everything out on the table. You still didn’t know what you would say.

---

On the last day of August, Azriel sealed his final letter to you. 

He put it in the box with the other 91 letters, one for every day that you were apart. 

It killed him, not being able to see you, not being able to reach out at all. But, you had made your boundaries very clear, and he wasn’t about to mess that up now, not after everything that he had done. So, he wrote and wrote and wrote, telling you all the things he hadn’t got to in person. 

He hoped that he would get the chance to give the letters to you, to express just how sorry he was and how deeply he loved you. 

The summer was miserable. For as much shit as Cassian and Rhysand gave him when he was with you, they had even admitted that they missed having you around, if only because it kept Azriel from being pissed off and mopey all the time. 

The worst part was that he had nobody to blame but himself. He had tried to blame Claire, at first. But, he knew it wasn’t sound. He was the one who had agreed to the deal, the one who had been with you every day, keeping that damning secret. 

It had taken him a while to work up the nerve to text you on the first day of September, asking to meet. 

He felt like he was holding his breath until you finally responded hours later, asking to meet up at the tennis courts. 

He couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or a bad one, that you had asked to meet up at the same place from your first date. It could be a sweet full circle moment. Or it could mean that you don’t want him near you, and want to meet somewhere public because of it. His heart cracked at the thought.

You were already there when he arrived, sitting under a tree, your body closed in on itself. His heart leaped at the sight of you after all this time. 

He approached you slowly, like he would an injured animal. When you looked up, you didn’t smile. His heart sank into his stomach, apprehension weighing down every part of him. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, but it came out gruff and raspy. 

“Hi,” you said timidly, gesturing for him to sit down. 

He did. It wasn’t lost on him that you were looking at him like he was a stranger. Maybe to you, he was now. 

Azriel stayed silent, waiting for you to speak, willing you to say that you forgave him and everything could go back to the way it was.

It took you another few moments before you said, your eyes trained on your hands in your lap, “I thought about everything a lot over the summer. Over and over and over again. And I just…” you looked to the sky, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew. Panic shot through his whole body. “I can’t get past it, Az,” you whispered. “I can’t be with you, knowing how we started.”

Azriel felt like the world was spinning, like everything around him was on fire. “I love you,” was all he could manage, the words choked out of him. 

Finally, you looked into his eyes, tears falling down your cheeks now. It took everything he had to stay where he was, to not wipe them away. “I deserve more,” you said, your voice cracking. “I deserve someone who wants me from the beginning.”

“I want you,” he said, not caring that he was crying in public, that he was groveling on his knees where anyone could see him. “I love you.”

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” you croaked. 

Azriel wanted to argue, to kick and scream and cry. He wanted to beg you to take him back, to give him another chance. He wanted to throw that box of letters at your feet and prove that he had thought of nothing else, nothing but you for three months. 

But, it wasn’t what you wanted. And Azriel had done enough to hurt you already. 

It took every bit of strength he could muster to force his mouth to say, quietly, “Okay. I hope you get everything that you want, bookworm. Everything. I mean that.” 

It took everything in him to rise to his feet, to walk away and leave you behind in that grass. 

As he threw the box of letters into the dumpster behind his apartment with shaking hands, he knew without a doubt that his heart would never be repaired, that there would always be a hole in him that nothing but you could ever fill.

He wished he could go back to the way he was: the aloof asshole who didn’t give a shit about anybody or anything. But he couldn’t be that guy, not anymore. Not after you.

So, instead he spent his days walking through the world with the rest of the heartbroken, cursing his own damned name over and over again, until it meant absolutely nothing.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms

[billkaulitz-grrrl]

You Make My World Stop Turning -Bill Kaulitz x Reader

Hello everyone! This is my first Tokio Hotel fic and I really hope you like it! I’m new to the fandom so sorry if there are any inaccuracies ahead of time.

Synopsis: You’re the daughter of Tokio Hotel’s manager and recently you’ve become rather close to a certain singer…

MATURE!!!

His hands, god his hands could send me into a coma just by looking at them. I sat, tapping my pen on the clipboard that was handed to me by my father (their manager) as the four band members began warming up for their latest show in a few hours.

        I closed my eyes and tried not to fixate on Bill's hands. He held the microphone with such little care, it looked like the device could tumble out of his hand any second but somehow he manages to balance it well enough to keep it off the floor. God he's so annoyingly flawless that it makes my blood boil on occasion.

Bill and I have always just been good friends. I wouldn't say he's my best friend by any means but we always acknowledge each other and chat for awhile when I accompany my dad to their functions. Last night was different though, last night felt different. Or maybe it just felt different to me, with his millions of fan girls I doubt he'd look for a second at the girl he's known since we were 12.

I didn't even intend on hanging out with Bill alone last night but he caught me outside of the hotel smoking a cigarette in the middle of the night. We ended up sitting and talking for a long time. It was nicer than I would've expected. A small part of me dreaded this tour that took up the rest of my beautifully laid out summer. I had all these plans with friends before my mother decided to tell me I was going to Germany to stay with my father during the summer so she could move to Australia for this temp job at the company she's dedicated her entire life to. My german isn't even that good.

I sighed and stood up to go to the bathroom when their first set of the day was over. I crossed backstage to the nicer bathrooms that normal people don't have access to. That is the nice part of being the daughter of a popular band's manager, the bathrooms I go into actually have toilet paper and sometimes even paper towels.

Right before I got to the bathroom I felt a hand grab my shoulder. It was Bill of all people. "Going to smoke up the bathroom?" He asked, a sly grin on his face. I fake a laugh and shake my head. "Dad would kick my ass if he knew I was putting your lungs in danger." I sighed. He looked around and leaned in a bit, "Wanna hangout again tonight?" He asked. I was surprised and he must've notice this because he followed up with, "If you don't want to that's fine, I just can't sleep after shows and your company last night was very soothing."

Why was my heart rate accelerating? Since when did little Bill get so attractive? Fuck this isn't real, I still have to pee. "Aren't you and the guys going to be taking fans up to your room tonight? You don't have the time to spend with me." I tried to keep my cool but something inside me was cracking.

Bill laughed and shook his head. "I could probably get you something else to smoke too if you're into it." He said, putting his fingers to his lips in the motion of smoking a joint. I raised my eyebrows and nodded vigorously. "Same spot?" I asked, thinking of the secluded little area behind the bushes that I located yesterday. He nodded and smiled that deadly smile at me again. I turned to finally use the bathroom with a new giddy feeling in my stomach.

—————

I huddled down into my little corner to

wait for Bill. We had never really settled on a time so I've been waiting for a few minutes. I truly hope he keeps his word and comes out here with me or else I would make quite the fool of myself waiting for him. I reached into my pocket and felt around for my cigs and my lighter. I lit it up and exhaled the smoke with a deep sigh. I heard a few footsteps to my left and I exited my book in order to take a peak at who or what was there. To my relief it was Bill, makeup off and hair wet from a shower.

"Hey there." I grinned, he sat besides me and returned my smile. "Hey, did you like the show?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "Loved it as much as I've loved the rest of them." I said, offering him a drag from my cigarette. Without taking it from my hand he lightly held my wrist so I could hold it for him while he smoked off of it. A blush came to my cheeks at his dainty touch. I was forever grateful that it was dark enough to hide the red on my cheeks.

"That's good to know." He said, now fumbling in his pockets. He whipped out a joint that looked like it was rolled professionally. "Tom gave me one for tonight but normally he's pretty stingy about his weed." Bill said, asking for my lighter by holding out a hand. I placed it into his finely manicured hand and waited for him to light the joint between his fingers.

His hands caught my eye for the second time today. I heard my heartbeat in my ears watching him inhale the smoke. When offering me the joint, I leaned in the same way he did when hitting my cigarette and I hit it from his hand. Exhaling, I coughed a bit and curled up a little more to be comfortable.

"Did you get a good enough view tonight?" Is he making small talk??

"I did actually, sometime maybe I'll make it down right in front of the stage to watch you up close." I stated thinking about the hordes of fan girls that they had accumulated. "You want to watch me up close?" He smirked at me. I turned away to cover my face. "You're awfully bold if that's what you assume." I muttered, snatching the joint and hitting it myself this time.

"I mean I saw you watching me during practice, so I'd only assume that's how you watch me perform." He leaned a bit closer, our shoulders now touching. "What?" Was the only reply I could muster.

I smoked again, finally feeling the weed in my head. "I said-" He began before I cut him off with, "I heard what you said."

He exhaled with a laugh and took the joint from me. "I watch you sometimes too." He looked at me when he said that and it felt like the world had stopped turning.

"Why?" I asked, feeling like a complete idiot. "Because I think you're pretty." He said bluntly.

Silence fell between the two of us. I felt foggy enough to move in closer to him. He looked me in the eyes before suddenly he closed the space between us by connecting his lips to mine. I jumped at the opportunity and dropped my cigarette before placing my hands on the side of his face.

The moment became heated quickly as his hand made its way to my waist. I clamored onto him like it was the last thing I'd ever do. I sat in his lap and the kiss deepened. His hands moved up and down my sides as I began swirling my hips on top of his.

        He leaned his head back and groaned slightly at the contact. I leaned in once more to kiss him and I snaked my hands through his long dark hair. I felt completely primal in this moment, the only people in the world right now were us. I didn't even know how I felt about him until this moment, but apparently a secret part of me has been craving this since I had first met him.

        "Y/N..." He muttered, putting his hand on the back of my head and tugging my hair slightly back. "We should go upstairs, do you have your own room?" He asked. "Yeah, my dad is next door though." I said, capturing him in a deep kiss again. After a few more moments he pulled back again and slowly shifted me off of him so he could stand up. He offered me his hand and I took it, leading him towards the elevator to my bedroom.

        We stood awkwardly next to each other while waiting for the elevator to arrive. Neither of us wanted to spoil the moment by talking but we knew that at any moment someone could snap a photo of us holding hands that would send Bill's fan girls into an angry spiral.

        Once we heard the ding of the elevator we hurried inside, praying that we weren't seen.

        The second the elevator door closed he was on me in a flash. His hands began to roam across my body as his lips met my neck. I gasped at his abruptness and instinctively backed up against the wall. He pinned me against it quickly and continued his assault on my neck.

        I felt the elevator halt and instantly pushed him off of me and began to straighten my hair. He obviously felt rather proud of himself by the smug smile on his face as we walked out. I led him down the hall to my room and checked both ways for any paparazzi before opening the room and welcoming him inside.

        Instantly I shoved his jacket from his shoulders and onto the ground. "So hasty?" He asked, holding his arms out. "Please stop talking." I mumbled, looking away and feeling flustered towards what I should do next.

        "Are you nervous?" He asked, genuine hints of concern laced his voice. "Maybe I am, I don't want to stop though.." I replied, moving towards him again. He flashed me a smile and pressed our bodies together again. I gripped his hair and a deep groan came from his throat. Our hips came into contact with each other again and I felt his hard on through his jeans.

        I exhaled and took a step back, slowly taking off my sweatshirt, then my t-shirt. His pupils dilated at the sight of me standing there waiting for him, it was like a switch flipped in his brain as he collided with me once more, pushing me down onto my bed. I laid on my back and looked up at him as he began to undo his belt. I knocked his hands out of the way and took his belt off myself.

        "Y/N, can I show you a good time?" He asked, like we hadn't already been making out and groping each other for the past 10 minutes. "Please do, I need you Bill." I mumbled. That was all he needed to quickly yank down my sweatpants and clamber on his knees into the floor.

        "W-What are you doing?" I asked, sitting myself up on my elbows. "Can I? Make you feel good?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Yes Bill, of course.." "Then just trust me." He said, yanking my legs to the end of the bed and putting his face between my thighs.

        I gasped as his tongue made contact with my clit through my underwear. My right hand flying to grab his hair and my left hand gripped the bedsheets besides me. "Bill, please." I whined desperately. His lean fingers looped under my underwear and he pulled them down my legs. Next thing I knew he dove into me like it was the last thing he'd ever do.

        It took everything in me not to scream his name at the top of my lungs. His tongue lapped at my clit while his fingers made their way inside of me over and over again. Whenever my legs clamped around his head, he used both arms to push them apart so he could continue to finger fuck me to the best of his ability.

        I moaned his name which only caused him to speed up. His dark eyes met mine and I felt a knot begin to form in my stomach. "Please don't stop Bill, please I need this!" I whined loudly. He stopped what he was doing to ask, "Please can you repeat that?" I felt incredibly pissed off that he had stopped so of course I obliged. "Bill, please fuck me, I need it so badly." I sat up and grabbed his hair, pushing him down between my legs once more.

         He didn't seem to mind since his pace only increased. Never once has a man treated me this good.

His fingers suddenly stalled inside of me and he looked up at me again. “Can I fuck you?” He asked, lust lacing his eyes. “Please.” I smiled back at him. I scooted back on the bed as he got undressed. I looked away, because I was unsure as to whether I should be looking at him right now. “Baby?” Does he mean me? “Y-Yes?” I asked. I felt his hand on my jaw as he turned me to look at him. “Look at me. Don’t be afraid.” He said.

I looked at him and fully absorbed the sight in front of me. Bill Kaulitz standing, wearing nothing but dark grey boxers. I felt myself blushing. He chuckled a bit before crawling on top of me and taking off my bra. “You look so beautiful Y/N.” He said, dipping down to kiss my neck.

I thanked him before allowing my hands to wander down his torso to the hem of his boxers. His lips halted on my neck as I began to push them down.

All of a sudden, there was an abrupt knock on my door.

“Fuck!” I whispered, shoving Bill off of me and onto the floor next to my bed. “Honey? It’s dad, let me in.” I heard my father’s voice from the other side of the door. “J-Just a second! I’m changing!” I shouted back.

“Bill, get under the bed.” I whispered. His eyes were about as wide as I could only assume mine were. I threw my sweatpants and t-shirt back on to open to door.

Next thing I knew my father was in my hotel room asking me if I’ve been keeping up with my summer homework on tour while I sat on top of the bed that a nearly naked Bill laid under.

[atthelowestfromao3]

About you ? (Don't let go)

Summary:

Midoriya Izuku has vanished without a trace, missing for three long months. When Katsuki Bakugou, renowned pro hero, reluctantly takes on the cold case at the behest of Izuku's mother—his devoted, unseen fan—he embarks on a journey of unraveling mysteries and piecing together memories. As he delves deeper into Izuku's world, Bakugou unexpectedly finds himself captivated by a person he's never met, navigating a path where love intertwines with the shadows of a haunting disappearance.

Or the story where Katsuki Bakugou falls inexorably in love with someone he's never laid eyes on.

Chapter 1: Did you think I had forgotten?

Katsuki Bakugou was notorious for his impatience. His famous short temper, who’s  presence been a constant in his life since his childhood, despite years of therapy, remained untamed. Today was an especially trying day—a fan meet-and-greet. He despised these events with a passion. His fans, he believed, consisted mostly of desperate, perverted women or clueless kids drawn to his brash attitude and powerful quirk.

These gatherings were always tedious. His job entailed tolerating fans who asked for autographs on inappropriate places ( like who in the hell wanted an autograph on their tits?) or requested absurd photos ( Katsuki does not do family friendly photos with annoying and loud brats). He could already tell it would be a long, irritating day. However, the next woman in line didn't seem interested in an autograph. Actually, the chubby short greenette woman, who was dressed as the number one enemy of fashion, didn’t like she belonged this crowd at all. She looked as old as his mother, and if she dared pull out panties for him to sign, he swore he'd swore he would blast her face, leave this hellhole and call the day done, his publicist could screw themselves. Suppressing his irritation, Katsuki managed:

- Alright, lady. What do you need?

The woman in front of him emanated nervous energy. But the woman surprised him, by muttering clearly and softly:

- Dynamite-sama, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need your help.

Annoyed yet intrigued by her sincerity but also hoping he wouldn’t regret this later, Katsuki asked:

- What's the problem?

Sadly, she replied:

- It's my son. He's missing, and I can't find him.

Bakugou, who wasn’t understanding what this crazy lady wanted from him, scoffed:

- Do I look like a lost and found sector? Get security to help you. I'm working.

Desperation etched her face. 

- My son isn't here.

Exasperated, Katsuki snapped:

- Then how am I supposed in to find him? Look, I'm not here to do hero work today and-

Cutting him off, she pleaded:

- Please, Dynamite-sama!  No one has been able to find him! You're my last hope!

Reluctantly, Katsuki relented:

- Fine. When did you last see him?

She answered, on the verge of tears: 

- Three months ago.

Katsuki rolled his eyes:

- And only now you realize that the fucker is missing? Did you go to the police?

She explained frantically:

- I did, but they've stopped searching.  

Before he could protest further, a girl, with the sluttiest outfit ever, barged in, demanding her turn with Katsuki. Katsuki will never know why they bother when he already announced himself as gay to the press. Annoyed, he shouted:

- SHUT THE FUCK UP, Extra! WAIT ON THE DAMN LINE. 

He urged the woman:

- Go on.

Gratefully, she continued:

- Thank you, Dynamite- sama! As I was saying, I need your help to find my boy! They keep saying to me that it’s common and that maybe he just left home and that he is of legal age but it doesn’t make sense for him to just disappear like that and I’m worried for him. 

Katsuki wasn’t believing he was hearing this shit. Where are the cameras? Is she for real?! But after a deep breath, he said:

- And you thought that I, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite, would be THE person to help you locate your son, because?

But the woman was unbothered by the sarcasm in there :

- You see, my son, Izuku, is your biggest fan. He's been since you won that UA tournament at fifteen. He always believed you'd be Japan's top hero one day. Izuku has a heart of gold, and this isn't like him. Please, help me find him.

Internally urging himself to agree just to get rid of her, Katsuki sighed: 

- Alright, alright. I'll take the case and start tomorrow.

Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks:

- Thank you, Dynamite-sama!

As she left, the endless line of bizarre encounters continued, like clockwork.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Katsuki almost forgot about the woman until, after a 15-hour shift, a file fell from his bed shelf. After a long nap, as he organized his room, he found it again—the case of Izuku Midoriya. The case was enveloped in the folder and Katsuki quickly turns past the index and onto the first page, hoping for a photo of the kid missing. Woah, there. The blue folder held a photo that caught Katsuki's attention immediately. The pretty green eyes were the first thing he noticed accompanied by cute freckles darting all around, he had pretty curls that appeared to have life on its own. His face was roundish and his eyes were big, in the photo he was smiling and the background was white. Definitely not a kid, like DAMN. He was charming, unlike anyone Katsuki had seen before.

Case Details: Physical Characteristics:   Somewhat short for his age (21), Izuku Midoriya has a round face framed by a mop of fluffy, dark-green hair that curls at odd angles. His large, circular eyes match the shade of his hair, often appearing watery and wide, giving him an innocent and energized appearance. He bears four symmetrical freckles in diamond formations, with being 21 on his left cheek and 24 in his right cheek. Izuku is often described as "plain-looking" or "not standing out" by others.  

Katsuki paused, incredulous. Also, who the hell described the prettiest boy he had ever seen as “plain- looking” like what the fuck? Who gave this moron the job? He shook his head in annoyance at the description.

Distinguishing Features: Freckles all over his body Quirk: Quirkless

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. Quirkless? Despite his charming appearance, Izuku lacked a quirk. It was surprising.

Last Seen Clothing: White tank top, jeans, white sneakers Circumstances of Disappearance: Last seen at Mustafu’s Public Library, Detroit Street at 4 PM on May 14, 2062.

The notes were sparse, leaving Katsuki frustrated. It had been three months since Izuku's disappearance, and he wasn't a detective. However, the photo of Izuku intrigued him enough to continue reading. According to the file, Midoriya had left the library after borrowing two books, bidding farewell to the librarian, Blair Pamper. That was the extent of the information. The detectives had seemingly halted their investigation there. Tossing the folder onto his bed, Katsuki scoffed at the idea of getting involved. He muttered, turning away: 

- Not my problem.

Yet, as he paced the room, the image of Izuku's earnest eyes lingered in his mind. Hours passed. Katsuki found himself unable to shake off the feeling of unease. Finally, unable to resist his curiosity, he retrieved the folder and flipped through it again, lingering on Izuku's photo. Katsuki muttered, trying to convince himself:

- He's just another lost pretty face.

But something about Izuku's gaze, innocent yet determined, tugged at him. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

At first, Katsuki's pride kept him distracted, and for four days, Bakugou didn't spare a single thought for the quirkless nerd. However, on the fifth day, thoughts of him resurfaced, and by the evening, Bakugou found himself slouched on Kirishima's couch, his usual intensity subdued. Kirishima noticed the tension in his friend's shoulders, the way his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.

Kirishima asked, tossing a bag of chips onto the coffee table:

- Hey man, what's eating at you?" Kirishima asked, tossing a bag of chips onto the coffee table.

Bakugou grunted, taking a handful of chips and chewing slowly. He muttered, his voice unusually quiet:

- It's that damn case.

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, leaning forward:

- Case? What case?

Bakugou hesitated, unsure how much to disclose:

- It's... a missing person. Someone I heard about.

Kirishima nodded, sensing Bakugou's reluctance. He encouraged gently:

- Okay, go on.

Bakugou sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair:

- This guy, Izuku Midoriya. He's been missing for three months now. The cops stopped looking.

Concern furrowed Kirishima's brow:

- That's rough, man. Do you know him?

Bakugou shook his head:

- Never met him. But something about it bugs me. Like... I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this story.

Kirishima studied his friend, recognizing the determination in Bakugou's eyes:

- So, what's bothering you the most about it?

Bakugou shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice:

- I dunno yet. But something doesn't sit right.

Kirishima leaned back, thinking:

- Is he a friend of yours?

Bakugou hesitated, then decided to reveal more:

- No, I don't know him personally. But he's quirkless.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise:

- Quirkless? That's unusual. Does that bother you?

Bakugou tensed slightly, his discomfort evident.:

- Yeah... People like him don't always get the attention they deserve. It's like everyone's forgotten about him already.

Kirishima leaned forward, serious now:

- Look, whether he has a quirk or not, if this case bothers you, you should pursue it. Maybe no one else will, but that doesn't mean it's not worth looking into.

They fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of Bakugou's internal struggle hanging heavy in the air. Kirishima knew Bakugou had his reasons, but he also knew his friend's sense of justice ran deep. As Bakugou got up to leave, Kirishima gave his shoulder a reassuring clap: 

- Good luck, man. Let me know if you need anything.

Bakugou nodded, a mix of determination and uncertainty flickering across his face.

- Yeah, I will.

With that, Bakugou left, leaving Kirishima to ponder the mysteries weighing on his friend's mind, hoping Bakugou would find the answers he sought.

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After talking to Kirishima, Katsuki wrestled with his pride and the unsettling feeling that had gripped him since their conversation about Izuku. Despite his initial resistance, curiosity and a growing sense of obligation gnawed at him. Yet, beneath his hardened exterior, a nagging sense of unease persisted. Katsuki sat at his cluttered desk, the soft hum of his laptop filling the dimly lit room. His eyes scanned through news articles and police reports, but his thoughts kept drifting back to one name: Izuku Midoriya.The image of Izuku, a quirkless nobody, haunted him more than he cared to admit. Katsuki muttered under his breath, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in his gut:

- He's just another damn case. I don't even know the guy.

But that wasn't entirely true. Over the past few days, Katsuki had immersed himself in the details of Izuku's disappearance. He knew about Izuku's quirklessness, his quiet determination, and his unwavering belief in heroes. Somehow, those details had woven themselves into Katsuki's thoughts, lingering like threads he couldn't untangle. 

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his spiky blond hair. He muttered, his frustration growing:

- Why the hell am I so fixated on this?

A memory flashed through his mind—a fleeting image of Izuku's face from the missing person poster. Those large, hopeful eyes seemed to stare back at him, silently pleading for help. It was absurd, Katsuki thought. He had never met Izuku, never exchanged a single word with him. And yet, here he was, feeling a strange sense of responsibility.

With a sigh, Katsuki closed the laptop, pushing it aside with a bit more force than necessary. He stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the city lights below. The night was quiet, the streets empty save for the occasional passing car.

Still, as much as he resisted, a small ember of concern flickered within him, igniting a reluctant curiosity that refused to be extinguished. As he paced his apartment that evening, Katsuki finally acknowledged the truth he had been avoiding: this case mattered to him. With a begrudging nod to himself, he made a decision. Katsuki muttered aloud, testing the name on his tongue once more:

- Izuku Midoriya.

It felt foreign yet familiar, like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit but somehow belonged. He continued his speech to himself:

- I don't know why, but I'm going to find you.

As he turned away from the window, Katsuki couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to embark on a journey that would change more than just his routine. It was a journey that would challenge his perceptions, his pride, and perhaps even his understanding of what it meant to be a hero.

He walked back to his desk and pulled out a worn notebook, flipping to a blank page. Gripping the pen tightly in his hand, he began to jot down notes—potential leads, questions to ask, places to visit. Each stroke of the pen felt like a commitment, a promise to himself and to Izuku.

Hours passed as Katsuki immersed himself in planning, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting shadows across his determined face. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, a mix of determination and uncertainty swirling within him.

With that, Katsuki closed his notebook and glanced once more at the missing person poster pinned to his bulletin board. Izuku's face stared back at him, a reminder of the challenge ahead. Tomorrow, he would begin his search in earnest, driven by a newfound sense of purpose and a growing connection to a person he had never even met.

Tomorrow, he would begin investigating Izuku's disappearance.

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Want to keep reading? Read it on ao3 now!

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter Four

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

TRIGGER WARNING : Mention of sa (🍇), and graffic description of violence. At the second paragraph of Ashley. You are warned

Tonight was a normal one like every others. Same routine, same job. Except this night you were paired up with the “legendary Soldier Boy”.

Joint at the mouth, gun at hand, you couldn’t deny he looked incredibly good. If he wasn't such a dumbass and an assho-

“What did you say?” Ben turned to look at you with an intrigued expression on his already high looking face.

“I said nothing, the fuck you on?”

“Alright sweethearth lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you.” He said before taking a little puff. Who the hell does he thinks he is to talk to you this way?

“Alright, do you even know what we're about to do to act this way? Cause you seem clueless big Guy.” You were already over it with his attitude. For God's sake you were about to kill Shockwave. The guy assaulted three women repeatedly, and since the authorities weren't doing something, you would bring justice to his victims.

“Mind telling me again doll?” Ben said with a smirk. God he looked good. Not in a “I want a Quick fuck with you” way but more of a “I wouldn't mind Building a life with you” kind. He made you feel safe, I mean he’s a supe of course. But knowing he almost killed Homelander was sort of reassuring. She felt like she could breathe with a man like that. If you put aside his crimes, his old viens, and the trauma he comes along with. Oh no, you were lost in your thoughts again. Focus Y/n, it’s a life or death situation, not a dating one.

“Alright uhm, we have to eliminate Shockwaves and dissipate his remains. That’s my part. First, I’ll- hold on. Didn’t I tell you like ten minutes ago?”

“Yeah sorry, I’m just messing with you”He said while laughing.

Oh he was messing with you. You really hated when people did that, reminding you of your high school years. Sure, he probably didn't mean it in a mean way but it always made you feel self conscious. Like you were too dumb to get jokes.

You sudden quietness, made Soldier Boy confused. He heard you were quite the talkative person. Why were you so quiet? Did his joke offend you or something? Women and their times of the month, hormones fucking up everything. Tell you what, if it was his decision to make only, he wouldn’t such a sweet doll on the field like that. Too beautiful and pure to be messed up by war and fights.

It wasn’t the first time he saw you. He often saw you follow him throughout his missions. You always thought he didn’t notice you, but instead of you keeping an eye on him, it was him that was keeping an eye on you. He always made sure no one followed you, always breaking every security cameras. The first time you stalked him, he asked Butcher about you. He told Ben that you were a villain, a new set of toys for Vought to play with. You were unconsciously controlled by them, made to push fear into the population. Making them yearn for a bright hero to save them, salvage them.

Your abilities were simple, you could control atoms. Make them turn solid, liquid, into gaz, transform them, break them in half for energy, really anything. But, like every villains you had many weakness. Using those powers costed you a lot of energy. Not nuclear type of energy, just good old human energy. You could days on end if you pushed yourself too far. If you were his, he'd make sure you'd be at home, cooking, taking naps, and just being a happy little wife. Maybe one day who knows. Maybe one day

Ashley was at home when she injected the V. Her bones broke, her skin teared, her hair all grew back at once and her eyes were bloodshot. She was now on the floor, her breathing barely there. Tears kept making their way down her pale cheeks, just like the rain droplets on her window. She couldn’t move much, so she just laid there looking at them. Despite the pain, it was almost peaceful.

The lighting was warm and low, the sound of the raging storm outside along with her laboured breath and her tears hitting the floor were making her more and more sleepy. Maybe she could take a nap. Her fligjt was in three days after all and she took a one week long vacation months ago.

It was planned a long time ago, the fleeing I mean. After what happened between her and The Deep, she could barely get out of bed.

Why did he do that?

“Alright, we have to be really quiet ok. If he hears us we're fuc-”

*She wants that laffy taffy, that kiss Kiss kiss kiss-”

Your phone was ringing. Did Florence changer your alarm again?

“Fuck, hello?”

Ben had to take deep breaths not to laugh. What kind of goofy pussies would put that as an alarm and expect people not to laugh? It sounded like something the cum guzzler would do. Oh yeah, he probably has some lame ass phone ring.

“Hey,hey,hey, what do you mean a distraction?”

“Fuck,fuck,fuckkkk, we’ll be there in five ok o-o-or even less alright” You stopped the call and turned towards Ben.

“We have to go to the ‘Flat Iron Building’. That’ where your team is, do you know where it is?” You were becoming more and more agitated by the minute. Apparently the whole Shockwave allegations were false, and made to be a distraction for a Vought operation at the building where The Boys resides.

“Hey slow down angel, what's going on?” Ben knew one thing at that moment. If something dangerous was coming, he wouldn't be caught dead not protecting you. For some reasons, he was attracted to you like a magnet. Almost like a gravitational pull. But whatever it was, he wouldn't lose it. It grounded him, reminded him hewasnX't in Russia anymore.

Martin was one thing and one thing only at that moment. Stressed the hell out. If Vought happened to stumble on the files about them they would be dead in the next hour. He couldn't let that happen. No. His daughter wouldn't go through that.

Martin was aware of how it felt to live with an absent father. He would and will fight without anything stopping him to make sure Janine could live the best life.

And if that meant he had to flee the country or betray Butcher, the choice would be easy regardless.

It was 10 pm when Ashley finally broke out of her transe. Forehead covered in sweat, head pulsing like a heart, she went to take a shower. She felt so happy to be able to wash her hair again. To be able to put shampoo and conditioner on them and then let her hands brush through them. After that, she did her nightly routine before going towards her bedroom.

There, she started packing a few things for her great departure. Passport and essentials. She wasn't bringing her phone, her clothes or any cards with her. Cash only. She’d buy a new phone and clothes in Berne. She was scared Vought might have put airtags in her clothes. She saw them do it to even the most insignificant employe like the guy at the coffee shop in the building. So why would she be spared?

“Going somewhere Ash?”

That voice.

No.

Not again.

Ashley lunged at The Deep and the fight started.

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE YOU FISH FUCKER! I WASN'T AWARE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?” A hit.”

“I WAS DRUNK AND HIGH OUT OF MY MIND! YOU RAPED ME YOU DISGUSTING FUCK! FUCK YOU KEVIN FUCK YOU YOU BASTARD” She screamed while beating him to death. She suddenly let out the loudest, most primal, guttural scream he heard. And in an instant, Kevin was gripping his ears, under the mercy of an unbearable pain. His ears, his eyes started bleeding. Ashley screamed louder and louder while punching him like a gorilla.

“STOP” Down. Up. Down. And up. his legs were broken, bones poking out like branches

“ASHLEY PLEASE I'M SORRY” Down. And up. And down. And up. Ashley felt euphoric, like she was freeing herself from years of pain. Kevin Torso broke under the hits, a rib stabbing his hearth.

“Ashley, please…” his face was now pale, his mouth pooling of the scarlet liquid. Then suddenly, nothing.

Ashley killed The Deep.

Ashley killed her rapist. With her own hands and voice.

Justice was finally served.

When Y/n entered the Flat Iron Building, she smelled the compound V. Actual compound V. Not temp V, not the thing flowing through the Supe Busters veins. No, real, fresh compound V.

Oh how she could recognize that one. She had been tracking that one for a while now. Along with Soldier Boy of course. Ben was a side quest, something to occupy her free time. But that one? Tek Night? Now that was another thing. She had been careful with that one. After all, his senses were extremely heightened.

She had her smell covered, Florence bending the light for her to be invisible, her sounds also muffled by the latter. So to know she finally had a chance to end him, she was more than ecstatic. He was a violent, racist piece of shit. He had caused multiple tragedies by accusing the wrong people, exploding things left and right, abusing both men and women. The whole abuse thing was common in the supe community. That's why Vought protected them so much. Can't really sell the whole hero narrative if 90% of your “heroes” have sexual assault cases uh?

Pulling yourself out of your thought you signalled Ben to go before you. After all he had super strength, not you. You needed someone to distract the guy while pulling out the compound V.

Walking up one stair at a time, shield at one hand and gun in the other, Ben was ready to attack. When they arrived at the right floor, Ben put you at a safe distance before opening the door. There, he saw Tek Knight looking out the windows.

“I heard you miles down, you aren't very subtle you kn-” He was cut off by an unending agony. It was spreading through his head, hands, legs, everywhere.

“HEY HEY HEY STOP IT URGH..W-WE CAN T-TALKK”

“I don't speak to supes .” You said before ripping the V out of his body. You turned it to the simples thing : water.

“NO PLEASE PLEASE” He didn't know what he was begging for, but seeing how Soldier Boy was walking forward slowly like a predator at his prey, he knew he was dead.

And he was. Ben put the gun at his belt, took the shield with both hands and crashed it agaisnt his skull. His bones made a loud cracking noise. And Ben repeated the action four times. You were now in charge of putting the body away. That wasn't hard. You simply turned him into air. No traces. No evidence. No suspect.

Just panic that would surge in a few days.

A/n : I wrote this as best as I could, again leave 10 notes in order to have the fifth chapter, hoped yall liked it😊

@demodemo909 @weaponxgames

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Anyone want a mild TP sickfic? :)

I'll admit, I cheated on this a little - some of this was written before, but I just wanted to add more comfort and fluff to it. <3 Because Ordon Fam Fluff is wonderful.

Sicktember Prompt 4 - Hiding an illness

It had started subtly. A little choked back cough. Slower reaction timing.

By the first evening it had progressed to a headache. Link had written it off as just being tired.

But when Fado commented that Link had left the ranch abruptly, Rusl knew better than to wait it out. He'd gone to Link's home around dusk, and after a quick search of the abode, had come to the conclusion that Link was nowhere to be found.

Grabbing a torch as the daylight faded, he headed for the woods.

The trail was unorthodox, but present. Now that Rusl knew what to look for, it made tracking his son much easier. The grass was tousled just a hair, a few branches pushed aside, and one muddy spot bore half a paw print on it. A clump of black fur caught in a nearby bush pieced together the rest of the puzzle well enough.

Walking ahead carefully, Rusl's ears heard the sound of panting, and he turned towards the spring. When he reached the gate, he had to stop for a moment, his blood chilling.

A wolf was lying on its side at the edge of the spring, panting slowly. The sight of the animal in this spring, with a sword on Rusl's back and a torch in his hand, made him freeze up uncontrollably. He bit his tongue and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as images of the worst night of his life came unbidden in his mind, images of a wolf whining and bleeding, images of dark shadows morphing into a Hylian, images of his boy crying and bleeding to death.

Without thinking, Rusl immediately discarded his sword, trembling from head to foot. He took a step forward, trying to regain his focus. Then he took another step. The wolf whimpered, and Rusl backtracked three paces.

Come on, he berated himself. Get it together. Something's wrong with him.

Clenching the torch tightly, he stepped forward again, thought better of it, and pitched the torch into the spring to extinguish it. The splash caught the wolf's attention, and he watched his canine boy twitch, but do nothing beyond that.

"Link," Rusl said hoarsely, his throat dry, his heart racing. He blinked the images away again. For his own sake, he pleaded, "Please, turn back, son, I don't know what's wrong."

Link obeyed, shifting easily, still laying on his side, looking miserably and pale and sweaty. Rusl's chest released, allowing him to breathe normally again, and he hastened forward, kneeling beside his boy. The flush to Link's ashen cheeks clued him in, and he placed the back of his hand against the teenager's forehead.

He had a fever.

"S-sorry," Link slurred. "'m really tired. Thought... being a w-wolf would... make it feel better..."

Rusl sighed. "All you had to do was say you weren't feeling well, Link."

"'m ok, P-Pa..."

The resistance member's heart hurt listening to the boy try to reassure him, and he pulled him into his arms. "You will be, Link. Don't worry."

Link tried to argue, shifting weakly in Rusl’s arms as the pair walked through the village. He wasn’t going to be able to climb the ladder while carrying his ward, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave Link unattended, so they were going back to his house.

Uli seemed fairly resigned to the sight that greeted her at the doorway – she likely had seen the signs as well over the last twenty-four hours. She smiled and sighed. “I put blankets and pillows on the couch for him.”

Link immediately shriveled as Rusl gently laid him on the sofa. “S-sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” Uli soothed, slicking back sweaty hair from his forehead. “I’m making some soup for you. Rusl will help you get into something more comfortable.”

Rusl nodded with a smile, letting Uli run the house. She was far better of a caretaker when it came to illnesses to be honest, and he was happy to have her call the shots. He was still shaking jitters from the spring, anyway.

Spirits above. He thought he’d gotten passed that. But he supposed he’d just… not addressed it. Not with himself, at least.

Grabbing a spare nightshirt, Rusl wandered back into the den to find Link shivering under the blanket Uli had supplied. Sweat drenched his tunic, and he actively avoided eye contact when Rusl approached him.

“Link,” Rusl said as he crouched down, ignoring the mild strain in his knees. “Don’t feel guilty, son. It’s okay.”

“It’s stupid,” Link sniffled, wiping sweat off his brow with a shaky hand. “I c-can—can take care of—I’m s-sorry—”

Rusl interrupted him when he took a cloth and wiped Link’s face, stopping the boy’s fretting movements. “Link. You do so much for everyone. For the village, for the Resistance, for Hyrule. You saved the world. I think it’s fair for you to let others take care of you sometimes.”

His boy watched him a moment, eyes glassy and conflicted, and he sighed tiredly. “But you and Ma have Hana and Colin and that’s a lot, and you’re in the Resistance too. I…”

“It’s always our pleasure to take care of our boy,” Rusl whispered gently with a smile. “Always.”

Link bit his lip, eyes closing for a moment as he suddenly fought desperately for composure. Rusl let the boy have his privacy on the matter, instead shifting focus to helping him sit up and get into the nightshirt he’d brought.

Once Link was settled and tucked back in, Rusl wiped his face of both sweat and tears and pulled the chair over as Uli arrived with a steaming bowl of soup. Colin was next, stumbling in with half lidded eyes as he’d just gone to bed but had heard the commotion. Once he saw that Link was ill he couldn’t be convinced to go back to bed quite yet, and Hana awakening for some milk further roused him.

It was well into the night when Rusl was gently rocking Hana back and forth, patting her back after her mother had provided her with nourishment. Colin was sitting on the floor by the sofa while Link relaxed, having eaten the soup provided to him, and Uli sat in the chair, regaling her boys with yet another story. Link, despite being quite ill, kept his eyes half open to listen, enjoying listening to his mother’s words, and Colin’s head was slowly tipping to the side and bobbing as he tried to follow along as well. The fire had died down a fair amount, still filling the home with warmth while barely making a sound save for the occasional pop.

“Each little raindrop sparkles like jewels in the light of sacred springs,” Uli continued. She was currently telling one of Colin’s favorites, that being the origins of fairies. “When enough collect on the leaves of the spring, the colors shimmer and swirl, creating a rainbow. The spirits collect the rainbow water together. You can practically taste the magic in the air, like the cool sweet crispness of snow cream in your mouth, and it makes your heart flutter and makes you feel alive. The spirits hold the water in their hands, closed to the world, and when they open them, there lies a fairy. They take a piece of light with them wherever they go, guiding and healing anyone who crosses their path.”

“How many fairies are there?” Colin asked sleepily.

“More than I could ever count,” Uli answered. “But they hide. Their magic is special. Only good children can see them. A while ago, they made a special trip.”

“That’s how Hana is here!” Colin surmised. “Sera says fairies bring babies.”

Uli giggled. “Well. Your Pa certainly helped. You’ll learn more about that when you’re a little older.”

Rusl bit back a snort of laughter.

“But,” she carried on. “They did bring someone years ago. A little one of the forest, with twigs in his hair and little bits of bramble stuck to his clothes. They guided him to Ordon Village and blessed us more than any fairy could ever bless anyone.”

Link’s gentle breaths filled the air as he finally fell asleep, and both parents watched him a moment, their hearts full. Uli spoke of fairies and magic for a while longer, but it didn’t take long for Colin to follow his older brother’s lead. Rusl handed Hana to his wife and then gently carried Colin back to his bed, tucking him in and giving him a kiss good night. When he returned to the den, Uli was doing similar to Link. The couple headed to their room together, settling Hana in her crib.

“We truly are blessed, aren’t we?” Uli sighed happily as the pair settled into bed.

Rusl took her hand, kissing it, and smiled back at her. “Yes, we are.”