#and everything is tinged in golden light even in my thoughts about it so that’s just a kinda safety this story exudes to me

[weekendlusting]

A TALE OF FAME

pairing ꪆৎ charles leclerc x ahaana patel ᥫ᭡. f1 driver x bollywood actress au

chapter ꪆৎ 4

summary ꪆৎ she's everything, and he just drives.

note ꪆৎ no hate to any characters used in the story, none of what i write reflects on how they actually are. all my love, happy reading.

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The streetlights cast their golden glow on the slick cobblestone streets, as Monaco’s night embraced the quiet lull after the evening crowds had long since dispersed. Ahaana Patel had just finished another grueling reading session for Jigra, this time with Vedang Raina, her co star who plays the "jigra" in the movie, and Vasan Bala, the director of the movie.. The call had been buzzing with activity, the air thick with anticipation for the movie’s impending launch. But as she made her way through the still night, her mind wandered, caught between the excitement of returning to Bollywood and the unease of stepping back into a world she had once distanced herself from.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A quick glance at the screen revealed a message from Karan Johar, the producer who had not only rekindled her Bollywood career but was also, for better or worse, the force that pulled her back into this whirlwind. Ahaana smiled at the message: "Remember, tomorrow's reading important. Don't overthink it!"

Her smile faded as she shoved the phone back into her bag. It wasn’t just the upcoming filming that had her thoughts in a frenzy. The rain started slowly, as if the weather itself had decided to add an extra layer of drama to her already chaotic emotions. It drizzled gently at first, but quickly grew more intense. She was about to pull her umbrella out when a sudden gust of wind caught her off guard, flipping the umbrella inside out. With a frustrated huff, Ahaana gave up and wrapped her arms around herself, quickening her pace as she made her way toward the coffee shop she had promised herself as a refuge for the night.

Monaco had a way of shifting moods within hours, and the glamour of the Grand Prix could never quite prepare someone for the kind of solitude one might encounter in the city’s winding streets. The lights from cafes and bistros flickered softly, but the rain blurred their reflections, creating a dreamy, almost surreal atmosphere. Ahaana welcomed it—she needed this. A quiet moment where she could collect her thoughts and prepare herself for the whirlwind to come.

Her shoes splashed against the wet pavement as she hurried forward, the rain now soaking her to the bone. She didn’t mind—though it was cold, it was somehow soothing. The slight discomfort of the wet clothes reminded her that she was still human beneath the polished image people expected of her.

As she rounded a corner, her phone slipped from her hand, landing with a soft thud in the nearest puddle. Her breath caught as she quickly crouched down to retrieve it, wiping off the water that had already soaked into the screen.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, before looking up.

It was then she heard the sound of an engine revving, the smooth hum of a car pulling up beside her. The headlights cut through the dark as the vehicle slowed down to a crawl. Ahaana barely had a chance to look up before a familiar voice broke through the quiet night.

"Underwater yet?”

She looked up, startled, only to meet Charles Leclerc’s amused face, framed by the dark interior of his sleek, black car.

“You seem to have a knack for finding me in the most inconvenient moments,” Ahaana said, her voice tinged with sarcasm but a playful glint in her eyes. She could feel her heart rate pick up slightly at the sight of him, and she tried to mask the sudden flutter with a nonchalant tone.

Charles raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. You seem to be doing quite well in your little adventure out in the rain. But if you’d like, I can offer you a ride.” He paused for effect. “Unless you plan on swimming to where you're going?”

Ahaana was about to brush him off, but something about his voice—calm, caring, and teasing all at once—made her pause. She glanced up at the coffee shop, now barely visible through the rain, and then back at Charles, his car still idling, waiting for her response.

“You don’t have to do that,” she began, though her body language was already betraying her. The chill from the rain was seeping deep into her bones, and she wasn’t in the mood for another cold walk to her destination. She shivered involuntarily as the wind picked up. “I’m sure your car is far too nice to have someone like me soaking up the seats.”

Charles chuckled, a warm, easy sound that seemed to cut through the damp night air. “It’s closer than that coffee shop, and I’m guessing you’re already a little too wet to care about how nice my car is.”

Ahaana tilted her head, her expression a mix of amusement and hesitation. “You know, you’re really hard to say no to.”

“I’ve been told,” he said, grinning as he opened the door to the passenger seat. “Come on, get in before you turn into an ice sculpture.”

Despite her internal resistance, Ahaana found herself walking toward the car, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. The warmth of the car enveloped her, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief as she settled into the plush seat. She immediately reached for her damp hair, trying to push it away from her face, but the rain had soaked through so thoroughly that it didn’t seem to matter.

Once inside, Ahaana groaned, pulling at her soaking wet sleeves. "Ugh, I’m going to catch pneumonia."

Charles reached into the backseat, pulling out a hoodie. "Here."

She hesitated before taking it, slipping it over her damp clothes. It was warm, slightly oversized, and smelled exactly like him—clean, fresh, with just a hint of something she couldn't quite place but immediately liked.

She let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you’re not the worst Monaco tour guide. But only because you came with amenities."

Charles shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he started the car. "And here I thought I was making an impression."

Little did she know, she was making an impression on him instead.

“So,” Charles began, after a few moments of comfortable silence, his tone light but laced with a curiosity she hadn’t expected, “how’s Jigra going?”

Ahaana glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Not what I was expecting as small talk, but sure,” she said, her voice laced with mock surprise. “I thought you’d ask about something more stupid, like how you noticed my shirt is absolutely see through right now.”

Charles smirked at that, "Oh I definitely noticed that." To which Ahaana let out half a chuckle and a scoff. “But, I’m more interested in what’s really going on. Jigra is a big deal, right? Can I ask why? I mean this isn't the first intense film you've done, from what Max told me. And by his reaction that day I'm guessing there's more to this.”

“Keeping tabs on me are you?,” she teased, trying to lighten the tension in her shoulders because of his question, her gaze briefly drifting to the window as the rain slid down the glass in rivulets.

She turned back to look at Charles's magnificently handsome face, only to see him with a raised eyebrow as if asking her to elaborate. She sighed and said “It’s nothing. It's just something happened during my last film that I haven't quite gotten over yet. Of course I want to do this film, it's a great role, Satya is an amazing character to play. But it's not the acting I'm scared off, it's just weird for me to go back to film city right now.”

“Well, I don’t see you as the type to get scared of anything. I think you're gonna be just fine.” Charles’s voice was teasing, but it was also full of sincerity.

Ahaana’s gaze flicked back to him, and for a moment, their eyes locked. There was something about his presence—so steady, so grounded—that made her feel like she could exhale for the first time in weeks.

“You’d be surprised,” she said quietly. “I’ve had some time away from acting, and the pressure... it’s not what I remember. It’s a lot harder to let go of all the expectations people place on you.”

Charles looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “I get it,” he said. “The weight of it all, the constant eyes, the pressure to keep being perfect. It’s exhausting. I’ve been there.”

Ahaana regarded him carefully, intrigued by his response. “So what do you do when it gets too much?”

He shrugged, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I just keep going. It’s all you can do, right? And sometimes, when things feel a little too heavy, you find ways to laugh. You keep yourself grounded.”

Ahaana chuckled, her gaze softening. “I could use more of that, I think.”

“I can help with that,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “I’m pretty good at keeping people grounded. Or at least distracted.”

“You seem to be very confident in your abilities,” Ahaana teased, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion.

“Well, I have to be,” Charles said, his smirk widening. “It’s part of the job description.”

The light banter helped break the tension, and Ahaana found herself more comfortable than she had expected. The warmth of the car and the easy rhythm of their conversation was soothing in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

They drove the short distance to Charles’s apartment in comfortable silence, the kind that only happens between people who don’t need constant chatter to fill the gaps. When they pulled into his garage, Ahaana looked up, taking in the sleek, modern building, the lights inside casting a warm glow across the driveway.

Charles parked, turned off the engine, and immediately got out of the car, moving quickly around to her side. As soon as the door opened, the cold hit her like a wave, and she stepped out gingerly, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stave off the chill.

“Come on,” Charles said gently, offering her a hand. His touch was warm and steady, and for a moment, Ahaana hesitated before taking it. His fingers curled around hers, firm but gentle as he led her through the entrance of the building.

As they walked through the door, Charles led her into the living room, which was a spacious, airy room filled with muted tones and sleek furniture. The whole place had a modern but homey vibe—like the kind of space someone could live in without it ever feeling cold or sterile. There was a large window that framed a perfect view of the glittering city below, the occasional car headlights cutting through the rainy night. It was peaceful.

“You can sit here,” Charles said, gesturing toward the sofa. “I’ll get you a towel.”

Ahaana lowered herself onto the soft cushions, still shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself. She felt self-conscious for a moment—being in his space, accepting his help—but her exhaustion, both physical and mental, quickly overtook that discomfort.

She looked around, her eyes landing on the sleek glass coffee table in front of her, the coffee cups left casually on the surface. It was clear that Charles’s place wasn’t overly formal, but it also wasn’t careless—it was a place he seemed to have carefully curated for his own comfort. And somehow, that made it feel even more personal.

Charles returned a few moments later with a thick towel in hand, his expression soft but determined. “Here, let’s get you dried off a bit. You’re absolutely freezing.”

Ahaana took the towel from him, a little reluctantly at first. But then she let out a small sigh and began drying her hair, pressing the fabric into her scalp to soak up the moisture. The heat from the towel, along with the warmth of the room, felt like a relief she hadn’t realized she needed. She could feel her body finally starting to ease into the comfort of the moment, though she couldn’t entirely shake the tension in her chest.

“Such chivalry,” she teased, her voice softer now, probably because she was freezing. “You sure you're not doing this to get laid Leclerc?.”

Charles, who had settled himself on the opposite end of the couch, looked at her with an expression that was equal parts amused and understanding. “Ahaana,” he began, his voice low and husky, sending a chill down Ahaana's spine, she didnt't know it was because of him or the cold, “Trust me baby, if I wanted to seduce you I wouldn't be offering you more clothes right now.”

Ahaana laughed, and just shook her head. “Alright, alright, knock it off.” she said, her voice lighter now. “I’ll take advantage of your hospitality for now.”

Charles chuckled, and for a moment, they simply sat in silence, letting the quiet fill the space between them. The steady beat of the rain outside continued, creating a rhythmic soundtrack to the peace that had settled over the apartment.

The soft hum of the rain against the windows had begun to settle into the background, a calming melody that accompanied the flickering warmth of the lights in Charles’s apartment. Ahaana, now thoroughly dried off, had settled back onto the couch, wrapped in the plush towel like a cocoon. The cold was starting to fade, and with it, the tension in her body. Still, there was a softness in the air, the kind that made it easy to stay in the moment without thinking too far ahead.

Charles, having noticed her growing comfort, stood up and moved to a nearby closet. “I’ve got a shirt you can borrow. It’s not fancy, but it’ll keep you warm.”

He returned with a simple black T-shirt in hand and offered it to her with a warm smile. Ahaana took it with a quiet, grateful nod, and without thinking much of it, slipped it on. The fabric, soft and oversized, enveloped her like a second skin. It was exactly what she needed—a little comfort, a little security.

Charles took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, his eyes never leaving her as she adjusted the shirt. “There. Much better,” he said, his voice easy and teasing, but with an undertone of something deeper—something that lingered just beneath the surface.

Ahaana chuckled, running a hand through her damp hair, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. “I feel like I’m wearing a blanket,” she said, adjusting the shirt, feeling the coolness of the fabric against her skin. The way it hung on her made her feel both cozy and oddly exposed. “It’s... comfortable, though. Thanks.”

Charles nodded, still looking at her with that relaxed smile of his. “You’re welcome. And now, how about some coffee?”

Ahaana raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “That sounds like heaven.” He grinned bright, moving toward the kitchen.

Ahaana smiled as she settled back into the couch, her legs folded under her. The apartment was quiet now, save for the rain that pattered against the windows. Charles’s space felt more like a retreat than a home—a sanctuary of sleek, minimalist design with subtle hints of personal warmth. The dim glow of the lights created soft shadows around the room, highlighting the simple elegance of his furnishings.

When Charles returned with two mugs of steaming coffee, he handed one to her before sitting down. He took a deep breath and let the steam rise from his cup, savoring the warmth before looking back at her.

The soft hum of the rain against the windows and the warm, cozy glow of Charles’s living room created an atmosphere that was far from what Ahaana expected when she’d stepped out of her hotel earlier that evening. Her clothes were still a little damp, but the T-shirt she’d borrowed from Charles fit her in that way that made her feel comfortable yet oddly aware of the fact that it wasn’t hers. It was just the right amount of snug, and the familiar scent of Charles’s cologne lingered faintly on the fabric, making it hard to ignore the closeness between them.

As she sat on the couch, sipping the coffee Charles had thoughtfully handed her, she felt an unexpected sense of ease. The tension of the evening—the rain, the rush, the impromptu ride—had faded into something softer, something gentler.

Charles had settled back in the armchair across from her, his gaze not quite focused on anything, as if he were trying to read her. She noticed how he ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly, the gesture casual but endearing. The way he looked at her, though—there was something undeniably different about it. She could feel it in the air, in the way he leaned forward slightly, as if he were hanging on to every word she said.

"Not bad, huh?" Charles finally spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. His voice was warm, easy, like the most natural thing in the world.

Ahaana took a small sip of her coffee, then met his eyes with a playful grin. "Not bad at all. This whole place—it’s very… you."

Charles smirked, clearly amused by her response. "I like to think it’s got a little charm." He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I mean, it's not a mansion or anything, but it’s home."

Ahaana tilted her head, glancing around the sleek apartment. The minimalist décor, the soft lighting—it did have a certain charm, but there was something else about it. It felt warm, lived in. "It’s… very cozy, actually."

Charles’s expression softened a little, and he smiled. "Cozy is good. I like cozy." He paused, and for a moment, the easy banter they’d been sharing turned into something a little more genuine, a little more introspective. "I guess we all need a place where we can just… be ourselves, right?"

Ahaana thought for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee mug absentmindedly. "Yeah," she said quietly, her voice soft but steady. "I think I’ve been looking for that. A place where I can just… not be in the spotlight for a while."

The vulnerability in her voice didn’t escape Charles’s notice. He shifted in his seat, leaning slightly forward. "Well, you’ve got it here, Ahaana. No one’s watching. Just… you and me."

Ahaana caught the glint of sincerity in his eyes and felt a flutter in her chest. She wasn’t used to moments like this—moments where everything wasn’t so complicated. The world outside didn’t matter in this little bubble they’d created, just the two of them, drinking coffee in the glow of candlelight, the rain outside acting as a backdrop.

Before she could respond, Charles gave her a playful grin, as if the moment had slipped back into something lighter. "Hey, you know," he said, tapping his mug with his fingers, "I think this might be the most spontaneous evening I’ve had in a while."

Ahaana chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Spontaneous? You almost ran me over in the rain. I’d call that an accident, not a plan."

Charles laughed, the sound easy and light. "Okay, fair point," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I’m kind of glad it happened."

Ahaana raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "Really? You’re glad I nearly got hypothermia?"

He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling up into that endearing half-smile that she’d already come to find impossible to ignore. "Well, maybe not the getting drenched part. But I don’t mind the company."

Ahaana felt a warmth spreading through her chest, not from the coffee, but from his words. There was something so easy about Charles—the way he didn’t overthink things, the way his humor made her forget about the little worries she carried with her. He didn’t expect anything from her, just… enjoyed being around her.

"I guess I don’t mind the company either," Ahaana said, her voice a little quieter this time, but the smile on her lips was genuine.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. The silence between them was comfortable, almost like it wasn’t something that needed to be filled with words. Ahaana let her gaze wander, noticing the subtle details of his apartment again—the simple elegance of it all, the way the dim candlelight made everything feel more intimate, more… personal. She hadn’t realized how much she liked being in his space until now. It felt welcoming in a way that she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Charles broke the silence with a half-laugh, pulling her attention back to him. "You know," he said, his voice a little quieter, "I’m not used to being so… relaxed. It’s kind of nice."

Ahaana leaned back on the couch, glancing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Well, maybe you should get used to it. Relaxing seems like something you don’t do enough."

He tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a hint of something deeper, a subtle curiosity. "What makes you think that?"

Ahaana shrugged, tapping her mug gently against her lips. "Just a feeling. You look like you could use more quiet nights, less racing around the world."

Charles looked at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to her lips before meeting her eyes again. For a brief second, something in the air shifted between them—something that made her heartbeat skip a little. The way he looked at her, the way he was so unguarded in that moment, it made her feel like she was the only one in the room.

Before either of them could say anything more, the lights suddenly flickered. Both of them looked up in surprise as the apartment was plunged into darkness.

"Great," Charles muttered, but there was no frustration in his voice. It was more an amused sigh, as if this was just another one of those small, inconvenient moments that life liked to throw at him.

Ahaana couldn’t help but laugh at the timing. "Seriously? What is it with tonight and things going wrong?"

Charles smiled, shaking his head. "You should’ve stayed in your hotel room."

But Ahaana, her lips curling into a playful grin, leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "I’m glad I didn’t. It’s… more interesting this way."

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her response. "More interesting, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice light, but there was something in it that made Charles’s heart beat a little faster. "You’re not so bad to hang out with."

Charles let out a small laugh. "I try my best."

Charles quickly got up and dug up some candles to help. Charles placed the candles and Ahaana lit them up using the lighter, both working like a well oiled machine in silence.

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, creating an intimate ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of them in a little world of their own. Charles’s eyes never fully left Ahaana’s, even as she casually took another sip from her coffee. There was something magnetic about her tonight—something that made him want to keep her here, to keep talking to her, to keep feeling like the moments they shared weren’t just fleeting.

The rain continued to tap against the windows in soft, rhythmic beats, the sound almost comforting in its consistency. Outside, Monaco was bathed in soft lights, but inside Charles’s apartment, the world felt small and quiet—just the two of them, the gentle hum of the night, and the occasional flicker of the candle.

Ahaana shifted in her seat, adjusting the shirt of Charles’s she was still wearing. It hung loosely on her, the sleeves slightly rolled up, revealing a glimpse of her toned arms. The comfort of the shirt seemed to settle her into a kind of quiet relaxation that had been absent earlier in the evening, when she was still tense from the cold rain and her doubts. Now, she felt lighter somehow—lighter, and more at ease.

Charles watched her, his gaze softening as he saw the shift in her posture, the way she almost looked like she belonged here, in this moment, in this space.

"Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?" Ahaana asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of uncertainty. She had been a little hesitant to let herself fully relax, but the night had unfolded in ways she hadn’t expected. It was strange, staying at someone’s place in the middle of a rainstorm, especially when that person was someone who had been slowly worming his way into her thoughts more and more.

"Are you kidding?" Charles said with a smile, his tone light, but there was an earnestness beneath it that caught her attention. "It’s late, and it’s a downpour out there. You’re not going anywhere." He didn’t make it sound like an imposition; if anything, it came off as more of an invitation, a quiet assurance that this moment wasn’t just a passing thing.

The room fell into another moment of comfortable silence, but this time, it was different. There was a certain ease to it, a kind of understanding that they didn’t need to fill the space with words all the time. They both seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, yet still very much present with each other.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft. "You know… I never really get nights like this. Where everything just feels… simple. Easy."

Ahaana turned to look at him, a little surprised by his admission. She’d never expected him to open up like that. He had always been the one to deflect, to keep things light. But tonight, it was as if the walls between them had started to come down, just a little bit.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice almost gentle now, as if she, too, was starting to understand just how rare this moment was.

"Yeah," he replied with a smile that was almost shy, as if he wasn’t used to sharing this side of himself. "I’m usually running from one thing to the next, you know? Racing. But this… this feels different, refreshing."

Ahaana tilted her head, watching him closely, her gaze thoughtful. "I get it," she said after a pause, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like that too. Like I’m always… running. Running from something, or towards something, but never really stopping to… just be." She didn’t realize how much she had said until the words were already out. But once she’d said them, it was like a small weight lifted off her shoulders. Talking about it didn’t seem so hard anymore.

Charles was quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity in his gaze made her feel both exposed and understood. He wasn’t judging her; he was just listening. And in that moment, Ahaana felt a shift—a subtle change in the air. She wasn’t sure if it was just the night, the rain, or the quiet intimacy of the moment, but something between them was starting to change.

"I think I know what you mean," he said, his voice steady, yet there was a vulnerability in it that she hadn’t expected. "Sometimes it’s hard to just… be. But tonight, it feels okay. With you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering lightly at the sincerity in his words. "Yeah," she agreed softly, her voice barely audible. "Tonight feels okay."

A few beats passed in silence, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt full, complete. As if they had said everything that needed to be said without really saying it all.

Then, Charles stood up suddenly, drawing her attention. "You want some more coffee?" he asked, his tone light but sincere, like he was trying to keep things casual, even though everything inside him was starting to feel… different.

Ahaana nodded, not trusting herself to speak at first, so she just watched him move around the kitchen, preparing another cup for her. She felt the pull between them intensifying with every moment. Every glance. Every word. Something was happening, something neither of them had expected.

And Ahaana, despite her usual reservations, couldn’t deny it anymore. There was a growing connection, a magnetic pull that she couldn’t walk away from, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise.

When Charles came back with the coffee, their hands brushed as he passed it to her, and for a brief moment, the electricity between them crackled again. Ahaana glanced up at him, their eyes meeting in a long, silent exchange, and she couldn’t help but feel the shift in her heart.

The air between them crackled, and Ahaana couldn’t deny it anymore. There was something building. Something… undeniable.

She looked at him now, watching him with an intensity she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His features were soft in the candlelight, the slight stubble on his chin giving him a rugged edge that contrasted with the quiet warmth of his eyes. There was a sincerity in his gaze, a depth that made her heart flutter and her thoughts scatter. The way he looked at her made her feel as if she were the only person in the room, the only person that mattered.

Charles noticed her gaze, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. His heart beat a little faster. There was something about the way Ahaana looked at him—something that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t in a long time. The teasing, the playful banter—they had all melted away, leaving only this unspoken tension between them. He couldn’t quite place it, but he knew it was real. He knew that this—this—was something that wasn’t just going to slip away.

His eyes lingered on hers, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t until the silence stretched just a little too long that he realized he was leaning forward slightly, drawn in by the magnetic pull between them. He didn’t want to move too quickly. Didn’t want to make it awkward or force something that wasn’t there. But the way her lips parted ever so slightly, the way her chest rose and fell as she exhaled—he could feel the heat between them, the undeniable tension in the space that neither of them had been able to ignore.

Ahaana, too, felt the tension, the charged energy swirling between them. It was like something was building, an invisible force that neither of them could quite name, but both of them were painfully aware of. Her heart was beating faster, her breath coming a little more shallow than usual, and she felt that familiar pull toward him, a magnetic force that made her want to close the space between them, to see where this moment could go.

She swallowed, and for a brief moment, she considered pulling away. But the thought was fleeting. She didn’t want to walk away from this, not tonight, not with him. Something about being here, in this space, with him—it felt right. She had spent so much time running from feelings, from connections, but with Charles, everything felt like it was aligning in ways she couldn’t explain.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, she leaned forward just a fraction, her eyes never leaving his. The space between them was so small now, so unbearably close. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, could smell the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the rich, earthy aroma of the coffee. Her pulse quickened, and she wondered if he could feel it too.

Charles, his heart racing in his chest, felt the air shift once more. He could barely hear the rain anymore; it was just the sound of their breath, the beating of their hearts that filled the silence. Everything else fell away, and for that one charged moment, it was just the two of them. He could see the vulnerability in Ahaana’s eyes, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, like she was holding her breath, waiting for something. He couldn’t help but lean in just a little more, his body betraying him as his mind tried to process what was happening.

“Charles,” Ahaana whispered, her voice soft and tentative, but there was a hint of something else in it now, something unspoken that made his chest tighten. She was so close now, too close, and yet she didn’t pull away.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow breath, as if trying to steady himself. He was so close to her now, he could almost feel her heartbeat matching his. He could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation that still lingered. And yet, something told him that she wasn’t pulling away, that she was waiting for something, just like he was.

His hand moved almost without thinking, gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, the simple gesture sending a rush of warmth through him. As his fingers grazed her skin, he felt an electric jolt shoot through him. He hadn’t meant to touch her like that—not in this moment—but it felt… natural.

Ahaana’s breath hitched at the touch, and her eyes fluttered closed for a second, the heat of the moment washing over her. When she opened her eyes again, they were locked on his, the distance between them barely a breath apart. She could feel the tension between them building, the charge in the air almost unbearable. She could feel her own pulse quickening, and for a split second, she thought about pulling back. But she couldn’t.

Without even realizing it, she leaned in just a little closer, her body moving toward his as if guided by some invisible force. The intensity in the air was palpable now, thick with unspoken words, unspoken desires.

And then, as if the universe itself had decided to intervene, the moment stretched just a fraction too long, and neither of them could hold back any longer. Charles’s gaze dropped to her lips, and he could feel his own lips part slightly, his breath coming faster. Ahaana mirrored his movements, her lips trembling ever so slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the final bit of space between them.

Just as their lips were about to meet, the thunder cackled very very loudly outside, lightening up the room more.

Both of them froze. The tension snapped, and the moment was broken—shattered by the sudden power outage.

For a split second, they just stood there, their faces inches apart, both breathing heavily, both still caught in the aftershock of what had almost happened.

Ahaana was the first to pull away, her breath a little unsteady. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to apologize. "Well… that was… unexpected," she said softly, her voice breathless.

Charles let out a nervous chuckle, his hand still hovering in the space between them, his fingers twitching as if they were still reaching for her. "Yeah…."

Ahaana glanced around the room, now lit only by the flickering candlelight. The entire ambiance had changed—still charged, still full of possibility, but now laced with a touch of awkwardness that neither of them knew how to navigate.

"Well, um we should go to bed," Ahaana said, trying to lighten the mood, though her voice still held that slight tremor from what had almost happened. She couldn’t look at him directly; instead, she focused on the candle flame, the dancing light keeping her from meeting his eyes.

"Yeah," Charles replied, his voice low, his eyes still searching hers. "Get some sleep, yeah."

Ahaana nodded, though the words felt heavy in her mouth. "Yeah."

Neither of them moved immediately. The tension was still there, still crackling, but now it was tempered by the uncertainty of what had just happened. Neither of them was sure where to go from here, but both of them knew that whatever had almost happened, it hadn’t been the end. It was just the beginning.

And neither of them was ready to walk away from that, not yet.

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ᝰ.ᐟ fourth part! hope you guys like it!

next

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tags @seonghwaexile @bookishprophecy @justadesirebel @peterholland04 @bakingpiastries @ricciardosheart @mikefaistgf @sp1rl @charlesgirl16 @leila-030304 @uhcalli @blahblechblah @phobiccneel @blushmimi

comment to be added to taglist

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© weekendlusting

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[flowercrowngods]

I’m devouring your fics on ao3 and… idk how I have lived without reading “nice to meet you, where have you been?”

the whole fic is complete perfection!!! 🥺💚

I was twirling my hair and kicking my feet the whole time while reading it!!! giggling like a high schooler!!!!!! 🥺🥺 i’m such a sucker for fluffy stories and your work is honestly my favorite of all i’ve ever read!!! if you have any more ideas you didn’t write out for this world I’d love to hear it 🥺🥺🥺

feeling like a little goblin just reading every work you published there!!

I’m also so happy I found your blog so that I can share with you how lovely your work is!!! the whole story is a fluff fest but you still put little things that add to the underlying struggles that eddie and steve have faced in their life without overshadowing the fluff and it makes the world build so so so incredible!!! if you ever decide to make a patreon or anything similar you can bet I’ll be there to support you!!!

I have a big passion for writing and seeing someone so sweet and nice with such amazing writing skills makes me want to support your work anyway i can!!! just idk if this is just a hobby but if you ever do decided to make it more than that I’ll be your #1 fan!!! 💚💚💚

if flowercrowngods has 1000 fans, I’m one of them!

if flowercrowngods has 10 fans, I’m on of them!

if flowercrowngods has 0 fans, I’m dead!

(you know the meme? hehe)

much love 💚💚

i’m horribly embarrassingly late to answering this but i just wanted to hold on to this a little longer.

i love that you really really liked my lil tattoo shop au, i think it’s the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written for this fandom? because it’s like unadulterated joy, very little heaviness woven into it 🥹

i don’t actually think i have more for it? just that chrissy has this bakery and steddie almost had their morning after date there. eddie’s gonna introduce them, though, because the second he meets robin he thinks “wow i think you can be the love of my platonic soulmate, i need you guys to meet”. buckingham is a no-brainer for me.

robin also draws the most obscure tattoos and dares steve to tattoo them — either on himself or on costumers he deems worthy. the binder, remember? Upside Down tattoos, etc. she makes steve draw on her skin, too, because she’s afraid of needles still but loves his art, and they spend some of their nights like that, with music on and just drawing on each other.

i also love that you found my blog :D and i love even more that i found yours first, way back when 🤍 the thing about you asking if i have a patreon or just claiming that you’d support me there has taken me out for real, i swear. that’s. that’s so 🥺 unbelievable idk, i can’t put it in words; what that means to hear someone say this 🫶 especially because like. this ain’t my first language. so really all the compliments etc just feel so much more special for it 🥺🤍

anyway i’ll stop gushing now, i’m just really really touched. thank you thank you thank you 🥺 i’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my words so far, the happy and the sad ones 🌷

[reidmania]

hi i saw you take requests… could you write about established relationship reid and reader fluff for like a party or gathering where she sneaks behind his back and puts hands over his eyes whispering “guess who?” and like really lovey dovey?? please

guess who | s.reid

summary; after spencer was away for a few days, you get to see him again when he asks you to come to a afterwork gathering at rossi’s.

warnings; fem reader, literally none?? pure fluff, establishment relationships

an; im so sorry this took so long!!

The room hums with the gentle murmur of conversation, laughter threading its way between clusters of people. Soft lighting casts a golden glow over everything, making the gathering feel intimate, warm despite the autumn chill outside. You drift through the space, greeting old friends and acquaintances, your eyes always searching for one person: Spencer.

He’s on the other side of the room, deep in conversation as usual, the serious expression you’ve come to adore furrowing his brow. He’s talking animatedly with some colleagues, but your mind isn’t on what he’s saying. Your lips curl into a smile as you think of a playful idea, something to surprise him. The excitement of seeing him after the long week bubbles up inside you, making your heart flutter.

You weave through the room with practiced ease, avoiding spilling anyone’s drink as you maneuver behind him. The laughter around you fades into the background. You’re close enough now to smell the familiar scent of him—clean, a hint of his cologne, and something uniquely Spencer.

Your fingers twitch, and without a second thought, you gently place your hands over his eyes. He stiffens for the briefest second before your voice reaches his ears. “Guess who?”

The words are soft, whispered just beside his ear, playful but tender. You feel his body relax beneath your touch, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips even though you can’t see it. You know him too well, the way his shoulders lose their tension when he’s with you, how he tilts his head slightly, leaning into your presence.

“Hmm…” His voice is a low, thoughtful hum. “Well, considering the overwhelming amount of literature and research on tactile memory and voice recognition, I’d say my chances of guessing correctly are quite high.” He pauses dramatically, and you can practically hear the smirk in his tone. “But I’d rather play along. Is it…Einstein?”

You laugh softly, pulling your hands away but keeping close, standing right behind him as he turns to face you. There’s a spark of something mischievous in his hazel eyes, but it quickly melts into something much softer, something meant just for you. His lips quirk up, that smile you’ve always adored.

“Nope. Not even close,” you tease, sliding your hands down to rest lightly on his arms.

His grin widens as he looks down at you, tilting his head as though he’s examining you for the first time. “Well, I guess I’m terrible at this game.”

You roll your eyes, tugging him a little closer by the sleeves of his shirt. “You knew it was me the whole time.”

He chuckles, a sound that vibrates through his chest and warms you from the inside out. “Maybe,” he concedes, his hands gently settling on your waist. His touch is light, casual in the way of someone completely comfortable with you, and yet there’s always a certain reverence in how he holds you, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t keep his grip just right.

You sway slightly, the distant sound of music filtering through the room. It’s not the kind of party where people dance, but with Spencer, you can turn any moment into something more, something that belongs only to the two of you. You smile up at him, enjoying the way his eyes linger on your face, like you’re the only person in the world who matters right now.

“So,” he says, his voice soft but tinged with amusement, “having fun sneaking up on me?”

You shrug playfully. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes. I have to keep you on your toes, Dr. Reid.”

His smile softens into something more affectionate. “You’re the only one who could.”

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade. It’s just the two of you, standing in the middle of a crowded room, but completely absorbed in your own little bubble. The laughter and chatter around you are nothing more than a distant hum, the soft light casting a gentle glow over the sharp lines of his face, softening his features in the way that makes your heart skip a beat.

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer in a quiet, protective gesture. The scent of him, the feel of him, it’s all so familiar, so comforting.

“I missed you this week,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the ambient noise.

He tightens his hold just slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you too. It’s always too long, even when it’s only a few days.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. There’s something about being with Spencer that always makes you feel like everything else fades away. The worries, the stress, the noise of the outside world—it all disappears when you’re here, in his arms, wrapped up in the quiet certainty that he’s yours and you’re his.

He shifts slightly, leaning back to look down at you. “I was actually thinking about sneaking up on you,” he says, his voice playful, “but I’m not sure I could pull it off as well as you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t think you have it in you, Spencer. You’re too…earnest.”

“Too earnest?” He raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

You nod, your smile widening. “Yes. You’re terrible at sneaking. You’d give yourself away in two seconds.”

He hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that’s true. But I think I’ll leave the sneaking to you, then.”

You grin, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good choice.”

He smiles down at you, that gentle, loving expression that never fails to make your heart melt. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly, his voice sincere in the way only Spencer can manage.

“Me too,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of the words settle between you.

And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world spinning on outside, you realize just how deeply you’ve fallen for him.

[melanchoire]

ME AND MY HUSBAND ──── pham hanni.

── ( 🍸 ) stuck in your brother's shadow, you've always craved the love your parents freely give him, until his girlfriend arrives, and suddenly, it's her warmth that makes you feel seen for the first time.

pairing. soft dom!brother's fianceé!pham hanni x sub!fem reader

warning(s). sensitive topics (cheating, daddy & mommy issues, dysfunctional family, no one is mentally healthy here.) smut (cunnilingus, fingering, making out, nipple play, pet names, praise.)

word count. 4.6k

request. anon only requested hanni stuff and wasn't specific about preferences or anything in particular so i had to use one of the ideas from my twisted brain 🫶🏻

the weight of expectation had always felt like a physical pressure, a constant hum beneath your skin. your older brother, the golden child, had carved a path that your parents seemed determined you should follow, each step meticulously measured against his achievements. kindergarten, elementary school, high school — milestones he’d breezed through, each one a testament in their eyes to his inherent superiority. even as you navigated the same terrain, it felt like you were walking a path already paved, the only acceptable outcome being a perfect replica of his journey.

your brother, of course, thrived on this. you saw it in the glint in his eyes, the smug curve of his lips whenever your parents lauded his accomplishments. he seemed to revel in the way you’d bite your tongue, suppressing your own frustration, unwilling to start an argument you knew you couldn't win. his “achievements”, you’d often privately fume, were nothing more than the bare minimum, inflated by your parents' unwavering adoration. he was the teacher's pet, the goody two-shoes, the one who always did what was expected. and you? you were always just… you, never quite good enough by their standards.

university applications loomed, and the familiar chorus began. “your brother aced his entrance exams, you know.” “he had multiple offers, it was so difficult to choose.” you’d nod, biting back the retort that tasted like ash in your mouth. yes, you knew. you knew every detail of his accomplishments, every carefully phrased praise from your parents. it felt like his life was a highlight reel, constantly being replayed before your eyes, a stark reminder of your perceived inadequacy.

and his relationships? it was like a cruel joke. every new girlfriend was another opportunity for your parents to ask about your lack of romantic endeavors. “hen are you going to bring someone home?” they’d ask, their tone tinged with a mix of impatience and disappointment, as if you were actively choosing to fail in this specific area. your brother would watch, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly relishing in your discomfort. ue was the star, and you were the ever-present shadow, perpetually in his periphery, constantly being reminded of the light he cast and the darkness you supposedly inhabited.

then, hanni came into the picture, and everything shifted, not in the way you expected, but in a way that sparked something within you. pham hanni, your brother’s girlfriend, was a breath of fresh air, a radiant burst of sunshine in the dimly lit landscape of your family dinners. a law student with a smile that could disarm any bitterness, she possessed a charisma that was impossible to ignore. you couldn’t, and you didn’t try. you found yourself watching her when you thought no one noticed, observing how her brow furrowed slightly when she was concentrating on a conversation, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed.

she possessed an undeniable radiance, a magnetic charm that seemed to draw everyone in. your parents, of course, adored her. they praised her intelligence, her ambition, the way she effortlessly fit into their carefully curated image of the perfect daughter-in-law.

she was a distraction, a welcome one. during those strained family meals, when your parents would inevitably turn their attention to your lack of romantic prospects, hanni would interject, her voice a gentle melody in the cacophony. “how are your studies going?” she’d ask, her eyes warm and genuinely interested, making a noticeable contrast to your parents’ perfunctory inquiries. she’d actually listen, unlike your parents, nodding attentively as you explained your latest project, offering compliments that felt sincere, not forced like the ones from your family. “that's fascinating!” she'd say, her tone making you feel like your thoughts and words held value. you were used to being invisible in your own home, and she saw past that. you were not invisible to her.

your brother and parents would be engaged in their usual self-congratulatory routines, the air thick with unspoken comparisons. but then, hanni would reach out, a question about your day or a gentle comment about something she’d noticed. it was like a brief escape, a stolen moment of warmth in the chill of the constant scrutiny. you started paying attention, noticing the small details. the way she would laugh at your jokes, her hand briefly touching your arm during a gesture, a small brush of her fingers as she handed you a dish, or the lingering gaze she would offer you across the table. she seemed to see you, not just as your brother’s sister, but as an individual with thoughts, feelings, and dreams of her own.

it was… different. it was the kind of attention you craved, the kind you hadn’t realized you were missing. and it was coming from the one person you shouldn’t be fixated upon, your brother’s girlfriend. was it possible to develop real feelings for her? the thought was a dangerous whisper in the back of your mind. she was everything you admired; intelligent, beautiful, kind. she was the antithesis of everything you had ever been made to feel, and you fell for it hard.

the feelings that stirred within you confused you. was it just gratitude for the kindness she offered? or was it something more? was it possible to develop genuine feelings for your brother’s girlfriend? it felt like a transgression, a betrayal of some unspoken code. and yet, when she laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners, or when she’d ask about your latest writing project, your heart would flutter, a sensation both exciting and terrifying.

beyond the pleasantries, there were these fleeting moments of intense connection. the way her soft tone, when addressing you, seemed to carry a different weight than her interactions with your parents or even your brother.

you started analyzing her every interaction. ehen she spoke to your parents, her voice held a polite formality, a careful curation of tone. but with you, there was a different warmth, a hint of something deeper. her gaze, too, held a different quality when directed at you. it lingered, an unspoken question hanging in the air. during a particularly drawn-out dinner, as your brother regaled your parents with his latest legal victory, you felt a soft pressure on your hand. you looked down to see hanni’s fingers lightly resting on your own. her eyes were on you, a small, almost conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. you pulled your hand away, a jolt running through you, and focused on your plate, your cheeks flushed.

once, while your brother was rambling about his work, she’d slid a small, intricately folded napkin across the table towards you, and as you discreetly opened it, you found a simple doodle of a smiling flower and a short note, “hope you’re having a good evening! <3” it said, her handwriting neat and elegant.

another time, as you were helping your mother clear the dinner table, you felt a gentle touch on your back. it was hanni. “let me help.” she’d said, her voice soft and low, her breath tickling your ear. your skin prickled where her fingers had been, and you felt a wave of heat wash over you.

these moments were like fragments of a dream, confusing and alluring. was it your imagination, desperate for connection? or was she subtly hinting at something, a shared undercurrent of feeling that she also seemed to be aware of? the lines were blurred, and you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty and longing.

then came the engagement announcement. your brother and hanni were getting married. the news was delivered with the celebratory fanfare you’d come to expect from your parents, as if your brother’s engagement was an achievement they could also claim. the questions, of course, intensified. “when will you bring someone home?” your mother asked, her brow furrowed with concern. you wanted to scream. to point out the hypocrisy, the absurdity of constantly reminding you of your perceived failures while you grappled with feelings you barely understood.

and still, despite the engagement, despite the impending wedding, hanni continued to look at you, continued to touch your hand, to whisper your name in a tone that sent a tremor through you. it was as if the engagement hadn't changed anything between you. you were caught in a whirlwind of confusion, desperately trying to decipher her signals, her glances, and her unexpected gestures. was it possible that she felt something too? or was it your own wishful thinking, your desire for her attention coloring your perception of reality? it was torture, this constant push and pull, this sense that you were on the precipice of something you couldn’t fully understand, something that felt both thrilling and terrifying. you couldn’t tell if you were confusing things or if she was actually hinting at things. it was hard to tell if a girl was flirting with you, being a girl too. maybe that’s why you felt like you were drowning in a sea of indecision.

you were caught in a loop, constantly questioning your perceptions. was she playing some kind of game? was she just being kind? or was there something more to her actions? being a girl, you weren't used to the subtleties of flirting between women. the signals felt blurry, coded in a language you were only just beginning to decipher. you longed to understand the truth, to know if the feelings simmering within you were just a fantasy, or a shared flame waiting to be ignited. and you were terrified by the prospect of either possibility.

the clatter of plates against each other was a familiar soundtrack to your evenings. you meticulously wiped each dish, the ceramic cool beneath your fingertips, while your mother rinsed. your father, a creature of habit, methodically cleared the remaining debris from the table, a newspaper tucked under his arm, ready for his post-dinner read. and your brother? he’d already sunk into the couch, a possessive arm draped around hanni, his focus entirely consumed by her smile. typical. you sighed, a puff of air that ruffled a stray strand of hair.

you turned from the sink, the kitchen light casting long shadows down the hallway. you were halfway up the stairs, the familiar squeak of the third step a comforting sound, when a hand clamped onto your forearm. you turned, annoyed. your brother stood there, his usual smirk slightly sheepish.

“hey…!” he began, his gaze shifting nervously. “so, uhm…can hanni sleep in your room tonight?”

your eyebrows shot up. “what? why?” you couldn't quite keep the exasperation from your voice. hanni always slept in his room, nestled amidst his chaotic collection of video game paraphernalia and discarded energy drink cans. why the sudden change?

he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “well…” he started, his tone laced with reluctance, “tomorrow is our anniversary. and…i have her gift. it's on my desk, in my room. i don't want her to see it before then.”

you crossed your arms, a mixture of amusement and disbelief bubbling inside you. “so you brought her here and now you can’t even spend the night in the same room together because you can’t hide a gift?” you asked, a pinch of irritation in your tone. “why even bring her here at all if we aren’t going to spend time together?”

he winced at your words. “it’s just—… please? just for tonight?” there was a desperate edge to his voice that you couldn’t entirely ignore. he’d never really ask for anything, and that was probably the reason for your next response.

you rolled your eyes. “fine.” you conceded, though the word felt heavy as it left your mouth. “but this is ridiculous.”

upstairs, your room felt suddenly inadequate. you carefully pulled a padded cloud-like mattress from the storage closet, laying it neatly on the floor beside your bed. you covered it with soft sheets and a fluffy quilt, adding a couple of pillows for good measure, trying to make a somewhat comfortable space. you were barely finished when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

your stomach did a strange flip as you opened it. hanni stood there, a soft smile playing on her lips. her dark hair was pulled back from her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw. she looked almost ethereal in the dim hallway light.

you stepped back, ushering her inside. but in that moment, you felt a strange wave of self-consciousness wash over you. your eyes scanned the room, mentally cataloging the chaos. piles of clothes formed a precarious mountain on your desk chair, your old stuffed animals lined the shelves, their button eyes staring blankly ahead, and a random assortment of art supplies lay scattered across your desk. you felt your cheeks flush, hoping hanni wouldn’t notice the disarray.

you braced yourself for a judgmental smirk, but it never came. instead, her smile widened.

she did notice, of course. her gaze swept over the room but instead of the judgement you expected, her face softened into a smile. “it’s cute.” she said, her voice warm and genuine. “it feels very… you.”

you blinked, surprised. most people just saw the clutter. you gestured vaguely to the mattress on the floor. “so… make yourself comfortable, i guess.” you muttered, feeling a sudden awkwardness settle over you.

you settled into your bed, the silence in the room feeling thick and uncomfortable. you tried to focus on a book, but the words blurred before your eyes. you couldn’t shake the awareness of her presence, so close yet so far. the small sounds of her breathing, the faint rustle of fabric as she shifted on the mattress, all seemed amplified in the quiet of your room.

hours seemed to pass like molasses. you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, but sleep seemed to elude you. suddenly, her voice broke the silence, low and gentle.

”you seem... restless.” hanni's voice was soft, breaking the silence. you turned on your side and faced her.

“i can’t sleep,” you admitted, feeling foolish. “it’s… new, having someone in here.”

she giggled, a soft, musical sound that made your insides flutter. “well, i have something to distract you.” she reached out, her finger gently brushing against your arm. “i wanted to ask you something important.”

you sat up, your back against the headboard. "okay?"

her eyes sparkled in the dimmed light. “i want you to be one of my bridesmaids, at the wedding, of course. but, specifically, i want you to be my maid of honor.”

your jaw dropped. this was… unexpected. you weren’t even friends, not really. bridesmaids were reserved for the closest friends, the people who had been there through every step of the way. “what?”.

she sat up, her eyes sparkling in the faint light that filtered in from the window. “When i get married, i want you to be one of my bridesmaids.”

“but… i'm not…we’re not even friends," you stammered, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “bridesmaids are supposed to be people close to you.”

she smiled, a small knowing curve of her lips. “i want you close.” she said, and her tone made you feel like she didn’t mean it in just the literal sense. “the most important one, the special one.”

you were speechless. you barely knew her, had barely exchanged more than a few words with her. she was your brother’s girlfriend, that was the only connection between you two. why would she want you?

but her words resonated within you, a strange mix of confusion and something else, something that felt a little like hope, but you quickly pushed it down. “but why me? i—" you ask.

“shhh.” he whispered, her voice low and husky. “i’ve been watching you. and i know."

“know what?” you try to ask, but a wave of nervousness washes through you at how close she is.

before you could even form another question, you felt the presence next to the mattress shift. the edge of your bed dipped, the springs groaning beneath the sudden weight. you looked to the side, your eyes struggling to adjust in the darkness. hanni was there, a shadow against the dim light, yet you could still recognize the curve of her lips and the intensity in her gaze.

she didn’t answer with words, instead, she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. it was a tentative touch, a gentle exploration, and yet, it sent sparks flying through your veins. you tried to pull away, but she held you there, her fingers tangling in your hair.

“hanni…” you whispered, your voice a mix of shock and bewilderment. “what are you doing? go back to your mattress. your anniversary... the wedding, what would your fiancé say?”

she reached out, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb caressing your skin. “he can wait.” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. “i’ve been watching you for a long time, you know? i know the way you look at me. i know what your family is like with you.”

tour breath hitched. how could she know? how could she possibly understand?

“but—...” you began, trying to regain some semblance of control, “you can’t just—”

she silenced you, her fingers moving to trace the line of your jaw, her touch sending shivers down your spine. “i want to make you feel loved,” she whispered, her lips brushing against yours, a feather-light touch that sent your senses reeling.

the kiss was soft, tentative at first, a gentle exploration of your lips. but after a few seconds later, the kiss deepened, her lips parting yours, her tongue tracing a path along your lower lip, tasting you. your protests melted away as a desire you didn’t know you possessed surged within you. the kiss became more demanding, more urgent, and your body responded instinctively, arching towards her touch.

she pulled back slightly, her breath warm against your skin, and continued kissing you, your jaw, your neck. each touch sending shivers down your spine. her hands moved to your shoulders, gently pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, her lips claiming your skin, exploring each curve and hollow. there was a hunger in her touch, a possessiveness that both frightened and thrilled you. you were being consumed by the feeling, your mind swirling, and for the first time tonight, you didn’t want the night to end. you were hers, completely.

her hands were everywhere, exploring the contours of your body, pulling you closer and closer until you were practically melded against her. the kisses were coming faster now, more insistent, more demanding, as she slowly took control of the situation, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed. you wanted to resist, to tell her to stop, but the words were lost in the intensity of her touch.

hanni leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. her lips moved against yours with a tender passion, her tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. one hand caressed your cheek, while the other trailed down the side of your neck, over your collarbone, and down to the neckline of your nightgown.

“can i undress you, sweetheart?” she breathed against your lips, her fingers already working on the hem of your nightgown. “i want to see all of you... taste all of you.”

hanni’s touch was gentle and reverent, her intentions clear. she wanted to make love to you, to bring you pleasure and satisfaction. the room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing and the gentle rustling of fabric, an intimate and sensual atmosphere.

the weight of reality falls on you in that instant. you’ve never had anything so intimate with someone before, not even a relationship. but... with her this felt different, it felt right. so, you don't see the need to refuse or back down. “... yes.”

hanni smiled softly at your breathless consent, her eyes darkening with desire as she slowly took off your nightgown. she peeled the fabric away from your skin, revealing the lacy bra and panties you wore underneath. her gaze traced over the curves of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and the flare of your hips, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

“you’re so beautiful…” she murmured, her voice low and filled with wonder. She leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your collarbone, her lips lingering on your skin. “i want to touch you everywhere, taste you everywhere.”

hanni’s hands slid up your sides, her fingers splaying across your ribcage. she unhooked your bra with a deft flick of her wrists, freeing your breasts from their confines. she took a moment to admire the sight of your hardened nipples, before leaning down to capture one in her mouth.

she swirled her tongue around the sensitive peak, suckling gently as her hand cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breast. her other hand slid down your stomach, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties. she could feel the heat emanating from your core, the dampness that had already soaked through the delicate lace.

hanni’s touch was slow and sensual, focused on building your pleasure and desire. she wanted to take her time with you, to explore every inch of your body and bring you to the heights of ecstasy. she knew she had all night to make you hers.

hanni’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, brushing against your slick folds. she groaned softly against your breast, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure through your body. she could feel how ready you were for her, how much your body ached for her touch.

slowly, teasingly, hanni peeled your panties down your legs, tossing them aside onto the floor. she settled herself between your thighs, her breath hot against your most intimate place. she looked up at you, her eyes dark and filled with lust, seeking permission.

“can i taste you, baby?” she murmured, her fingers brushing against your clit, spreading your folds open for her.

but you couldn't keep up the lie for long. “... i've never done this before.”

hanni’s heart melted at your shy admission, a soft smile spreading across her face. she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach, her hands caressing your thighs soothingly.

“shhh, it's okay baby. i'll take care of you.” she murmured, her voice low and reassuring. “i promise i'll make this amazing for you. just relax and let me love on you, sweetheart.”

hanni settled back between your legs, her fingers gently parting your folds. she leaned in and placed a soft, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, before dragging her tongue along your slit, tasting your essence.

she groaned at the flavor of you, her eyes fluttering closed in bliss. she delved deeper, her tongue exploring your folds, before focusing on your clit. she circled the sensitive bud with the tip of her tongue, before suckling gently, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

hanni’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for her as she feasted on you. she could feel your hips starting to rock against her face, your body seeking more of her touch. she obliged, two fingers delving deep inside you, curling against that special spot that made your toes curl.

hanni’s fingers pumped slowly in and out of you, her tongue never stopping its sensual assault on your clit. she could feel your inner walls fluttering around the invading digits, your body instinctively trying to draw them deeper.

she looked up at you, her eyes dark and filled with lust, watching your every reaction. she could see the pleasure playing out across your face, the way your brows furrowed and your lips parted in soft gasps and moans. it spurred her on, making her double her efforts to bring you to your peak.

hanni’s free hand slid up your body, cupping your breast, rolling and kneading the soft flesh. she pinched your nipple gently, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core. she could feel your hips starting to jerk and writhe against her face, your body tensing as your climax approached.

she pulled back for a moment, her fingers slipping out of you. she gazed at you with a wicked grin, before diving back in, sucking your clit hard as she plunged three fingers deep inside you. she curled them just right, rubbing that special spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

“that's it, baby.” she urged, her voice muffled against your sex. “come for me, baby. i want to taste your cum on my tongue. let go, sweetheart.”

hanni’s fingers pumped faster, her tongue working overtime, determined to push you over the edge and into ecstasy.

hanni could feel your body tensing, your inner muscles clenching around her fingers as your climax approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. her other hand slid down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh and pulling you harder against her face, desperate to taste your release.

“come on, baby.” she urged, her voice strained with desire. “give it to me. i want to feel you cum all over my face.”

with a final, hard suck on your clit and a curl of her fingers, she sent you hurtling over the edge. your body convulsed, back arching off the bed as a scream of pure pleasure tore from your throat. hanni moaned against you as your essence flooded her mouth, lapping it up greedily, relishing the taste of your climax.

she gentled her touch as your body trembled and shook, riding out the waves of your orgasm. she placed soft kisses on your sensitive flesh as your breathing slowly returned to normal. finally, she pulled back, a satisfied smirk on her face as she gazed up at you with adoring eyes.

“that's my good girl.” she purred, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. She let you taste yourself on her tongue, moaning softly as she savored the flavor. “you did so well, baby. i'm so proud of you.”

hanni cuddled you close as you both caught your breath, her arms wrapped around your trembling body. she stroked your hair, your back, your arms, anywhere she could reach, trying to soothe you down from your intense high. her touch was gentle and tender, full of a quiet adoration she rarely showed.

“you okay, sweetheart?” she asked softly, tilting your chin up to look at her.

“yes, yes i am, don't worry. it's just—it was very intense.” you murmur breathlessly, running a hand through your hair, pushing away the loose strands that stuck to your forehead and face due to the fine layer of sweat covering your skin.

her thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the tears of pleasure that had slipped down your face. “you were amazing. so responsive and sexy. i loved every second of making you cum like that.”

ahe leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, pouring all her desire and affection into the embrace. her tongue danced with yours, letting you taste the lingering essence of your climax on her lips.

breaking the kiss, hanni nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your scent, a mix of arousal and satisfaction. she nipped and suckled at your pulse point, marking you as hers in a way that would leave a visible reminder of your intimate encounter.

“i'm not done with you yet though…” she murmured, her voice low and full of promise. “i want to make you cum over and over again tonight. i want to worship this beautiful body of yours until you're completely spent and satisfied.”

to emphasize her point, one of hanni’s hands slid down your stomach, her fingers toying with the slick folds of your sex. she could feel the renewed heat emanating from your core, the dampness that signaled your body's willingness for more.

and well, this would definitely give you enough closeness to her to be able to be one of her bridesmaids.

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 6

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of their apartment, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The soft light highlighted the simple, yet cozy space they had made their own—a sanctuary that was their little world, hidden from the eyes of everyone else. Knox was still asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, blissfully unaware of the tension building between his parents.

YN stood near the window, her back turned to Azriel, arms crossed over her chest. Her posture was stiff, her shoulders tense as she stared out at the city, her reflection barely visible in the glass. Azriel could feel the frustration radiating off her in waves, and he knew that this conversation was inevitable. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

He had taken the week off, needing to be with his family, needing to be with her. After overhearing Cassian and Mor talk about their little spying expedition on YN, he had made the decision quickly, without hesitation. But now, as he watched YN’s back, he wondered if he had acted too impulsively.

“Why did you do it, Azriel?” YN’s voice broke the silence, cutting through the stillness of the morning. It was calm, but there was an edge to it—one that Azriel recognized all too well. She was holding back, trying to keep her emotions in check, but he knew she was upset. “Why did you take the week off?”

Azriel let out a slow breath, his wings rustling slightly as he stepped closer to her. “I wanted to be here with you and Knox,” he answered, keeping his voice steady. “After everything that’s happened, I thought you could use the support. I wanted to make sure you both were safe.”

She turned around to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—something that looked a lot like hurt. “Safe?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “Azriel, we’re not in immediate danger. You’re acting like I can’t take care of myself and our son without you hovering over us.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Azriel replied quickly, though he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He was protective—maybe too protective, especially now that their lives were more complicated than ever. He crossed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to take hers, but she stepped back, putting more space between them.

“Isn’t it?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “You’re here because you don’t trust me to handle things on my own. You’re here because you think you need to shield us from everything—even from your own family. But Azriel, I can’t live like this. We can’t live like this, constantly looking over our shoulders, constantly hiding.”

Her words hit him hard, and he knew she was right. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt this deep, unrelenting need to protect her, to protect Knox, to be there every moment in case something went wrong. The thought of losing them—of anything happening to them—was more than he could bear.

“YN, I’m not trying to smother you,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with the desperation he felt. “I just… I need to be sure. After what happened yesterday, after knowing they were watching you—I can’t just leave you both alone and hope everything will be fine.”

Her eyes softened slightly at his words, the anger ebbing away, replaced by a sadness that made Azriel’s heart ache. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as if trying to gather her thoughts before she spoke again.

“Azriel,” she said more gently, “I understand why you feel the way you do. I do. But this… this isn’t sustainable. We can’t keep living in fear, can’t keep reacting to what might happen. We need to trust each other, trust that we can handle things—even when you’re not here.”

Azriel’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right, but it was so hard to let go of that instinct, the one that told him he needed to be there every moment to protect them. He had been living on the edge for so long, constantly aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows, that he didn’t know how to step back and just… breathe.

“I do trust you,” he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “I trust you more than anyone, YN. But I’ve spent centuries living in a world where letting your guard down, even for a moment, can cost you everything. I’m sorry if I’m overbearing—I just can’t lose you. I can’t lose our son.”

YN’s expression softened further, the tension in her posture easing slightly as she stepped closer to him. She reached out, her hand resting against his chest, right over his heart. “You won’t lose us,” she said firmly, looking up at him with a gaze full of determination. “But you have to let us live, Azriel. We can’t keep hiding in the shadows like this. I need you to believe that we can handle this—together.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch as he absorbed her words. She was right, of course. YN had always been strong, far stronger than he sometimes gave her credit for. And Knox—he was still so small, but Azriel knew his son would grow up to be just as strong. They didn’t need him to shield them from the world; they needed him to stand beside them, to be their partner, not their protector.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, opening his eyes to meet hers. “I’ll try to do better. I promise.”

She smiled at him then, a small but genuine smile that made the tightness in his chest ease just a little. “That’s all I ask,” she said softly, her hand moving up to cup his cheek. “We’re in this together, Azriel. Always.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the simple act grounding him, reminding him of what truly mattered. “Always,” he echoed, his voice filled with a quiet resolve.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, the tension between them slowly dissipating. Outside, the sun continued to rise, bathing the room in warmth and light, as if to remind them that there was still hope, still a future to be had, as long as they faced it together.

In the crib beside them, Knox let out a small whimper, his tiny wings fluttering as he stirred from his sleep. YN pulled back from Azriel with a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling with affection as she turned to their son. “Looks like someone’s awake,” she murmured, moving over to the crib to pick Knox up.

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with love as she cradled their son in her arms. Knox blinked up at her, his small mouth forming a perfect little ‘O’ as he looked between his parents. Azriel stepped closer, wrapping an arm around YN’s waist as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Knox’s head.

“We’ll be okay,” YN said quietly, more to herself than to him, as she rocked Knox gently in her arms. But Azriel heard the conviction in her voice, the belief that they would find a way through this—together. And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe it too.

---

River House was alive with activity as the Inner Circle gathered in the spacious sitting room. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting warm pools of light across the room’s plush furniture. Cassian was sprawled in one of the armchairs, his wings half-draped over the sides, while Rhys sat opposite him, leaning casually against the backrest of a couch. Mor and Feyre were nearby, quietly sipping their tea, and Amren was perched on the window sill, her sharp eyes watching everyone with mild disinterest.

As usual, the meeting started casually, with updates on Velaris, news from the courts, and the usual banter. But something was different this morning, an undercurrent of curiosity running through the group. Azriel’s absence was becoming more noticeable, especially given his sudden declaration of taking a week off—a rare occurrence.

"So, does anyone else find it weird that Azriel's taking a week off?" Cassian said, breaking the silence. He shifted in his seat, his brow furrowed with a mix of concern and confusion. “I can’t remember the last time that happened. Not without a reason.”

Rhys’s violet eyes flickered with amusement, but there was a hint of curiosity as well. "It’s not like him," he admitted, his voice smooth. "Azriel rarely takes time for himself. He’s always working, always looking for the next mission or lead. But a whole week off? That’s new."

Mor nodded in agreement, her lips quirking in a small smile. “Maybe he finally realized he needs a break,” she said with a light laugh. “Even shadowsingers need to recharge once in a while.”

Feyre glanced at Rhys, her brow arched in thought. "He didn't seem like anything was wrong the last time I saw him. Do you think something’s going on that he’s not telling us?"

Cassian sat up straighter, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You know how secretive he can be. But a whole week off? Something doesn’t add up.”

"Maybe he met someone," Mor suggested, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Maybe there’s a secret lover involved, and he’s just been keeping it from us.”

At that, Cassian snorted, his wings shifting behind him as he chuckled. "Azriel? Keeping a secret lover from us? That sounds about right, actually. He’s good at hiding things.”

Rhys tilted his head, a slight frown creasing his brow. “He’s been acting strange lately. Not just with the time off, but before that too. More secretive than usual. And those late-night disappearances…”

Feyre leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Do you think he’s hiding something serious?”

Rhys let out a thoughtful hum, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of the couch. “Could be. Azriel’s not one to share things unless it’s absolutely necessary. If something’s bothering him, he’ll bury it deep.”

Mor crossed her arms, glancing between Rhys and Cassian. “Do you think it has to do with the place we went to in the Hewn City? The woman—YN—she seemed close to him. Could it be related?”

Rhys’s eyes darkened for a moment, as if recalling the encounter at the pleasure house. “Possibly. He did seem more… comfortable there than usual. And she did say something about going back after maternity leave. Perhaps Azriel’s more involved in her life than we thought.”

Cassian shifted, his expression turning more serious. "You think he's involved with her?"

"It’s possible," Rhys said slowly. "But Azriel’s careful. If he’s keeping something from us, it’s for a reason."

Amren, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke, her voice dry and laced with boredom. “Whatever it is, he’ll tell you when he’s ready. No point in speculating about his private life.”

Mor glanced at Amren, then back at the others. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on things. If he’s tangled up in something, we should know. Especially if it affects us or the missions we’re planning.”

Rhys gave a slow nod, his gaze flicking toward the window as if he were already piecing things together in his mind. “Agreed. But we give him space. Azriel’s earned that much.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “Yeah, but if he disappears again, I’m dragging him back here myself.”

The group shared a small laugh, but the lingering tension remained. Azriel’s absence weighed on them more than they were willing to admit, and the mystery of his sudden break gnawed at their collective curiosity.

As the conversation lulled, Rhys’s gaze turned distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. He could sense there was more to this story than what met the eye. Something was going on with Azriel—something deeper than just taking time off.

But for now, they would wait. And watch.

---

YN walked into the pleasure home, the familiar scent of incense and low hum of conversation filling the air. She had grown accustomed to the atmosphere over the years—the darkened rooms, the hushed voices, the hidden glances exchanged between patrons and the workers. Tonight, though, something felt different. Her nerves were on edge, her mind still unsettled by the feeling that she was being watched the other day at the market.

As she adjusted her black silk dress, ensuring it clung to her in all the right places, she pushed those thoughts aside. She had work to do, and there was no room for distractions. She glanced around the room, scanning the faces of the patrons lounging in their seats, drinks in hand and their eyes on the stage where the night's entertainment had just begun.

And then she saw them.

At one of the booths near the back, sitting comfortably as if they belonged, were Rhysand and Cassian. But this time, they weren’t alone. Their partners, Nesta and Feyre, were with them. The sight of the group made YN pause for a split second, her breath catching in her throat as recognition hit her. It was them—she had felt their presence before. They were the ones who had been following her at the market just the day before.

She played it cool, forcing a neutral expression onto her face as she straightened her posture. Whatever they were doing here, she wasn’t going to let them know that she had figured it out. She was already too involved in the tangled mess of Azriel’s secrets, and the last thing she needed was to attract more attention from his friends. Especially Feyre and Nesta. If they even had the faintest idea about her connection to Azriel, things could go downhill fast.

With a calm smile plastered on her face, she made her way toward their table. Her heart raced beneath her composed exterior, but she kept her movements steady, her steps measured and graceful as she approached the group.

"Good evening," YN greeted them, her voice smooth and professional as she came to a stop by their table. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Rhysand, ever the picture of charm and elegance, offered her a polite smile. His violet eyes met hers briefly, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe suspicion. Cassian leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually over Nesta’s shoulders, while Feyre, sitting next to Rhys, regarded YN with an air of quiet observation.

“We’ll start with a round of drinks,” Rhys said, his tone casual, but YN could feel the weight of his gaze on her, as if he were sizing her up. “Something strong.”

YN nodded, jotting down the order even though she didn’t need to. She had memorized the menu long ago. “I’ll be right back with that.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, her mind racing as she made her way to the bar. It was no coincidence that they were here again, especially after what happened at the market. Rhys and Cassian had come to the pleasure home with Azriel once before, and now this was their third visit in such a short time. It couldn’t be a casual night out—it had to be something more.

Harvey, her bartender friend, raised an eyebrow as she approached. "You okay?" he asked quietly, noticing the tension in her shoulders.

YN forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Fine. Just...unexpected company," she muttered as she handed him the drink order. Her mind was spinning with questions, but she knew better than to discuss anything in the open.

As Harvey prepared the drinks, YN leaned against the bar, trying to steady herself. She had to stay calm, keep up the act. If Rhysand and the others were here for information, she couldn’t afford to give anything away. Not about herself, not about Azriel. Not about Knox. They still had no idea about her and Azriel, and she intended to keep it that way.

After a few minutes, Harvey slid the tray of drinks toward her, and YN lifted it carefully, balancing it in her hands as she returned to the table. She felt their eyes on her as she approached, but she kept her expression neutral, her smile practiced and professional.

"Here you go," she said, setting the drinks down in front of them. She noticed how Feyre’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to place her.

"Thanks," Cassian said, his voice gruff but polite. Nesta glanced up at YN briefly before turning her attention back to her drink, uninterested in the small talk.

As YN set the last glass down in front of Rhys, she caught his gaze again. His expression was calm, unreadable, but she could sense the questions lurking beneath the surface. She had been in enough rooms with men like him to know when someone was trying to figure out a puzzle—and tonight, she was the puzzle.

Before anyone could say anything further, YN gave them a small nod and turned to leave, her pulse quickening as she walked away. She had to be careful now. Whatever game they were playing, she was already too deep in it. And with Azriel out on his week off, the last thing she needed was for his inner circle to find out about Knox—or their relationship.

As she walked back toward the bar, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. They were watching her, but she had survived worse. She just had to keep her head down, play her part, and hope that they wouldn’t dig too deep.

But the nagging thought wouldn’t leave her: Why were they here again? And what, exactly, were they hoping to find out?

YN stepped through the door of their small apartment, her body aching from the weight of the day. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, and her mind raced with endless thoughts—who had been spying on her, why the Inner Circle kept showing up, and what it all meant for her and Azriel. She had kept her cool at the pleasure house, but the constant pressure of pretending everything was normal while being watched was wearing her down.

The familiar warmth of home wrapped around her as she shut the door quietly behind her, but the tension in her body refused to ease. She dropped her bag on the floor, her gaze flicking to the couch where Azriel sat, barefoot and bare-chested, with only a pair of loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was leaning back, a book resting in his hands, though the moment she entered, his golden-brown eyes were on her, sensing her frustration without needing to ask.

“Rough night?” Azriel asked softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. He closed the book and set it aside, his attention fully on her.

YN gave a small nod, too tired to speak. The weight of everything pressed down on her, making her feel like she could collapse right there in the doorway. Her shoulders slumped, and Azriel immediately got up, moving toward her with a fluid grace that belied the exhaustion she knew he carried too.

He reached for her gently, his hands sliding under her shirt, lifting it over her head in one smooth motion. The cool air hit her skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made her shiver. It was the way Azriel’s hands worked with such care, as though she were made of something fragile, even though he knew better than anyone that she wasn’t.

When he unclasped her bra and slid it off her shoulders, YN let out a long, shaky breath. Azriel’s presence was grounding, his hands firm yet tender as he guided her to the couch. He sat down first, pulling her with him until she was lying against his chest, her legs draped over his as she settled into his warmth. The steady rise and fall of his breathing was the only sound in the room for a moment, and YN could feel some of the tension in her body begin to melt away.

But she still felt overwhelmed—by the spying, by the uncertainty, by the weight of the past few days.

Azriel knew. He always did. His calloused hands moved to the scars on her back, the ridged lines that traced where her wings had been brutally clipped when she was only nine years old. It had been a trauma that never left her, not in all the years since. Even though she had healed, those scars still carried memories she couldn’t shake. And Azriel knew how much they haunted her.

His fingers brushed lightly over the scars, tracing the familiar pattern as he began to massage the tense muscles beneath. The pressure was just enough to ease the knots that had formed in her back, and YN couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped her lips. He always knew how to take the pain away—both the physical and the emotional.

"Talk to me," Azriel murmured, his voice a quiet invitation. "What happened?"

YN closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the soothing motions of his hands carry her for a moment. “I think they’re watching me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I recognized Rhys and Cassian at the pleasure house tonight, and... they’ve been following me. I know it.”

Azriel’s hands paused briefly before continuing their gentle rhythm. He didn’t ask who “they” were—he didn’t need to. He had already suspected the Inner Circle’s involvement, though hearing it confirmed made his chest tighten.

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised quietly, his voice steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to worry about them.”

But that wasn’t the only thing gnawing at YN. There was more—the weight of being watched, the fear that their secret might be exposed. The fear that her past, her clipped wings, her life at the pleasure house, and everything she had built with Azriel and Knox would come crashing down.

“They don’t know about us, about Knox,” YN continued, her voice trembling slightly as she curled in closer to Azriel. “But if they keep following me... I’m scared they’ll find out.”

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against his chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, a silent reassurance. “They won’t,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Knox. You’re both safe.”

YN buried her face against his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming the storm inside her. She believed him—she always did. Azriel had been her anchor, her protector, the one person who had stood by her when no one else would. But even with his promises, the weight of everything still felt like too much.

His hands continued to work at the knots in her back, his fingers gentle yet firm, easing the tension from her muscles. YN let out a shaky breath, feeling her body slowly relax under his touch. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink deeper into the safety of Azriel’s arms, the familiar scent of him wrapping around her like a cocoon.

For a few moments, it was just them—their shared silence, the unspoken bond between them. Azriel’s hands never stopped moving, soothing the aches and pains that had built up inside her. His presence was her sanctuary, the one place she felt truly at peace.

And for now, that was enough.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

There's three more chapters left and I think I might make a sequel but not with the mmc you think it is.... But the drama unfolds in the next chapter

[ahqkas]

hey so can I have a scenario with Nightwing and his s/o chilling out and they get to discussing valentines day and s/o mentions always hating it and everybody expects the complaint to be that s/o never got anything on that day or about consumerism, but nope, s/o’s serious complaint is “1 day out of 365 days of the year to do something special with a spouse? That sounds like a rip off to me”?

THE LIVING ROOM WAS BATHED IN THE SOFT, GOLDEN GLOW OF THE TABLE LAMP, the kind of light that made everything feel warmer, cozier. the faint hum of the city filtered through the windows, but inside, it was peaceful—a rare night off for both you and dick. you were curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, wearing one of his oversized hoodies that smelled faintly of his cologne. dick was sprawled out beside you, his arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally toying with a loose string of the hoodie. a bowl of half-eaten popcorn sat between you, forgotten as you both half-watched a rom-com playing on the tv.

the movie’s plot had turned predictably valentine’s day-themed, with a grand gesture unfolding on screen. rose petals, a private rooftop dinner, some over-the-top scene. you scoffed lightly, shaking your head as the main character tearfully accepted the cliché gesture.

“what?” dick asked, voice tinged with curiosity. his lips curled into a small smile as he glanced at you, always entertained by your comments and opinions.

you gave him a sideways look, biting back a smirk. “it’s just so . . . predictable. i mean, valentine’s day? of course. i’ve never liked it.”

he raised a brow, shifting slightly to face you. “really? let me guess—too cheesy?”

“sure, that’s part of it,” you admitted, gesturing vaguely at the screen. “but mostly, it’s the principle of it.”

dick’s grin widened as he leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by your words. “oh, i’ve got to hear this. what’s the big complaint, then? never got one of those giant teddy bears or heart-shaped boxes of chocolates? someone forgot about you in high school?” the tone of his voice was teasing, but there was a softness behind it, like he was already mentally cataloging ways to make up for any bad valentine’s days you might’ve had.

you laughed, shaking your head. “nope. not even close.” sitting up a little straighter, you turned to face him fully, your expression unusually serious. “my problem with valentine’s day is that it’s just one day.”

dick tilted his head, the teasing edge to his smile fading into genuine interest. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, think about it,” you exclaimed, gesturing animatedly as you warmed to your point. “one day out of three hundred and sixty-five where you’re supposed to go all out for your spouse? one day to show how much you care? that sounds like a rip-off to me. shouldn’t you be doing things to make your partner feel special all the time?”

for a moment, he just stared at you, his blue eyes blinking in surprise. you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed your words. then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—not the cheeky, teasing one he usually wore, but something softer, more thoughtful.

“you know,” he said, leaning back against the couch with a little huff of laughter, “that’s . . . actually a really good point. leave it to you to make valentine’s day sound like a scam.”

“because it kind of is!” you insisted, throwing your hands up. “it’s just one big excuse to sell overpriced flowers and chocolate. but the idea behind it? that you’re supposed to show your love in some grand way? that should be happening all the time, not just on february 14th.”

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on you with that soft, affectionate intensity that always made your heart skip a beat. then he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “i think you’re absolutely right,” he said in a low and sincere voice. “it shouldn’t be just one day. it should be . . . every day. even the boring ones.”

the two of you laughed together, the sound filling the cozy space. as the movie continued to play in the background, the plot’s romantic gestures faded into insignificance. you didn’t need rooftop dinners or rose petals. sitting there with dick, your hand in his, his smile meant more than any scripted holiday ever could.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[aritsukemo]

I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?

Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact

( @scar8o )

Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti

Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.

A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D

A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.

Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.

But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.

But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"

You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."

He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.

That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..

"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."

"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the galaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..

"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."

At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..

And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."

"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"

"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.

"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.

"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.

And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..

..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.

"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.

The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."

"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.

"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.

You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..

"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.

"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.

There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.

"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flattered, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"

"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"

He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..

"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."

"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.

"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."

"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"

You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.

"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.

"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.

You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.

"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."

"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.

And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..

"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..

"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[writingforstraykids]

Letters Of Love - Jisung🖤

Pairing: Jisung x gn!Reader (poly!skz)

Word Count: 896

Summary: Your next message is for Jisung, about a day where all he needed was some rest in your lap.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, comfort

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Your gaze lands on a photo that makes your heart ache in the softest way possible. It’s a picture of Jisung, curled up on your lap, his face completely relaxed in sleep, his body almost melting into yours as if seeking comfort. His cheek is smushed adorably against your thigh, one hand curled loosely over your knee, the other hidden beneath his head like a makeshift pillow. The angle of the photo captures just the side of your face, a gentle smile on your lips as you gaze down at him. His hair falls messily across his forehead, still slightly damp with sweat, and there’s a faint pink tinge to his cheeks, as if he’s finally let go of the tension he’d been carrying all day.

The living room around you is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the lamp beside the sofa. The evening light outside filters through the curtains, casting a golden sheen over everything. You can almost hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, the way it had been so shallow and uneven at first before it slowly evened out, settling into a steady, comforting beat. In the picture, his expression is completely peaceful—no trace of the exhaustion and strain that had marked his features just a few hours earlier.

That day had started off as a whirlwind for him. He’d had to attend several social events—all of which required him to be “on” for hours, smiling and interacting with people. It wasn’t until he came home, his shoulders tense and his smile strained, that you realized just how overwhelmed he really was.

You’d noticed it the moment he walked through the door, his gaze dropping almost instantly as if even making eye contact felt too much. You hadn’t said a word, just opened your arms, and he’d melted into you, his face buried in your shoulder as he released a long, shuddering sigh. Without a second thought, you’d guided him to the sofa, coaxing him to lie down with his head in your lap. It took a while for him to settle, to stop fidgeting as if he couldn’t let go of the day’s weight. But you ran your fingers softly through his hair, whispering soothing words, letting him know it was okay to rest. That he didn’t have to keep up the act with you.

Gradually, he’d relaxed, the tension bleeding away from his body until his breathing slowed, his eyes fluttering closed. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep, the worry lines on his forehead smoothing out, leaving him looking so young and vulnerable. You’d stayed like that for a long time, your fingers tracing gentle patterns along his scalp, marveling at how someone who shines so brightly on stage could look so fragile, so in need of shelter.

You smile softly as you attach the photo, already imagining the way Jisung’s cheeks will flush when he sees it. Fingers poised over the keyboard, you let your thoughts pour out, the love and admiration you feel for him filling each word.

---

Message to Hannie🐿️🩷:

Hannie,

I found this picture of you from the other night, when you fell asleep in my lap after that crazy long day. I know how hard it is for you to be around people for so long, even when you put on that brave smile. You always push yourself so much, and I just… I want you to know that it’s okay to rest. You don’t have to be the beloved ace all the time.

Seeing you like this, finally relaxed and at peace, made me realize something. I love every side of you—the bright, energetic Sungie who lights up every room, but also the quiet, overwhelmed Sungie who needs to just hide away for a little while. I love that you trust me enough to show me both. You don’t always have to be strong, you know? I want to be the place where you can let it all go and just… breathe.

Thank you for letting me be that for you. For choosing to lean on me, even when you’re too tired to say a word. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know, and I hope you never feel like you have to carry it all alone.

Happy anniversary, my little quokka. Here’s to more naps, more quiet moments, and more nights when you don’t have to be anything but yourself.

Love you forever,

One of your safe places

---

You read over the message again, feeling the words settle deep in your heart. You know Jisung will probably get flustered when he reads it, that he might grumble something about how he didn’t want you to see him so drained, but you also know that he’ll treasure it. Because that’s who he is—someone who loves fiercely, who feels deeply, and who sometimes just needs to be reminded that he’s loved for everything he is, even on the days when he feels like he’s not enough.

You hit send and lean back, closing your eyes as you remember the way he looked in your lap, so small and tired, but so beautifully at peace. Because even though he always says he doesn’t want to be a burden, he’s never been one to you. He never could be. He’s your dear Hannie - bright, beautiful, and perfect just as he is.

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

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[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔙𝔢𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯

Mike Schmidt X male reader

This was requested from a really nice person on tumblr: “I completely fell in love with your Mike Schmidt x male reader, and I have an idea for part four, if you make one. So you know how in the movie the aunt hires Max and her brother to mess with Mike's job. Well, what if the aunt hires someone to break into Mike's house on a night when y/n is babysitting Abby. Idk really just seemed like an ok idea.” Hope I was able to satisfy your request.

Tags: Part 4 of this series of Mike Schmidt x male reader but can read as a standalone with no problems. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Smut at the start. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Blowjob (reader giving). Angst. Some small fight scenes.

Words count: 6000 words

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 1-part 2-part 3-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11-Part 12

The evening was cloaked in a heavy, golden light, the last rays of the setting sun casting long shadows across the small, familiar space of Mike's home. The day had been long, and you could see the weight of it in the way Mike's shoulders slumped, the fatigue etched in the lines of his face. He was standing in the living room, one hand resting on the back of the worn-out couch, the other rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that spoke of his tension and exhaustion.

Abby was already tucked away in her room, engrossed in some cartoon on the television at full volume, her laughter occasionally ringing out. You watched Mike for a moment, your heart aching with the silent burdens he carried, the unspoken fears that clouded his thoughts.

He hadn't noticed you yet, his mind clearly elsewhere as he stared out the window, lost in thought. You approached him quietly, your steps soft on the wooden floor. When you reached him, you gently placed a hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his worn jacket.

His head turned to look at you, and for a moment, the stress in his eyes softened, replaced by something warmer.

You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him, though he must have sensed your presence because he looked up, offering you a tired but warm smile "Hey," he greeted softly, his voice rough with exhaustion.

"Hey," you replied, stepping closer until you were standing beside him. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "You look like you could use a break."

Mike let out a heavy sigh, the kind that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. He nodded, but the motion was half-hearted, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. "Yeah, just...' a lot on my mind," he admitted, his voice low and rough, tinged with exhaustion

He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicking to the paperwork before meeting yours again "Yeah, it's just.. everything feels like it's piling up, you know?"

You could hear the frustration and weariness in his voice, and it made your heart ache. You knew how hard he had been working, how much he was sacrificing to make sure Abby had a safe and stable home.

But you also knew he couldn't keep going like this without burning out. He needed to unwind, and maybe you could be the spark that helped him do just that.

After all, there were better ways to relieve stress, and your lips were more than ready to offer a hands-on demonstration.

You hesitated for a moment, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you considered your next words. Despite everything you had been through together, talking about anything remotely intimate still made your cheeks flush with heat.

"Mike," you began, your voice soft, almost hesitant. He looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern, and you could see the question in his eyes. “What if...I helped you unwind a bit? Maybe I could help you shake off some of that stress?”

For a moment, Mike seemed caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly as he processed what you had just said. Then, a slow, almost relieved smile spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound filled with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You'd think after all this time, and after all the times we've seen each other naked, you wouldn't be so nervous around me," he murmured, his voice softening as he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your flushed skin. "It's adorable"

Your cheeks burned even hotter at his words, and you ducked your head slightly, feeling embarrassed but also touched by his reaction. “I just... I’m not the best with words, but I really want to help you, in any way. I hate seeing you like this.”

His expression softened even more at that, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell. "You always know how to make me feel better," he said quietly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest on your shoulder, his fingers gently squeezing in a reassuring gesture.

"And if you're offering... I'm not going to say no.”

His lips met yours. They were warm and soft, moving with a gentle but insistent pressure that made your heart skip a beat.

You kissed him back with just as much intensity, your free hand moving to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Mike's hand tightened around yours, his grip almost desperate as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request. You parted your lips, allowing him in, and the kiss became more urgent, more intense.

His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap, your bodies pressed together.

You reached up, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

"You're such a good boy," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something more primal.

The praise sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped your lips at the sound of it.

"It's okay," he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms to gently grasp your hands, guiding them to the waistband of his pants.

Mike's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he watched you, his gaze filled with a mixture of affection and desire while your fingers began to undo the button of his pants. The intensity in his eyes made your own pulse quicken, and you felt a rush of heat pool in your stomach as you worked the zipper down, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge beneath the fabric.

He leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned softly into his mouth, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He was so warm, so solid beneath your touch, and it made you ache with need.

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt before slipping underneath, your palms meeting the warm skin of his abdomen. He shuddered at the contact as he deepened the kiss even further, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperation that made your pulse race.

Mike let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as you pushed his pants down, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the sight of him.

He was already hard, his arousal evident as it strained against the fabric of his boxers, and the sight of it made your own breath hitch in your throat.

"You're doing so well," Mike murmured, his voice rough with pleasure as he gently guided your hands to the waistband of his boxers, encouraging you to pull them down. "Such a good boy for me."

The praise made your head spin, your body flushing with heat as you followed his lead, pulling his boxers down until his length was fully exposed. You bit your lip, your gaze fixed on him as you took in every inch of him, the way he throbbed with need, the way his breath hitched slightly as you ran your fingers along the length of him, testing the waters.

Mike's hand slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you down to your knees, his grip firm but gentle.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you saw the hunger in his eyes. "Please, Mike," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as you leaned in and let your head rest on his thighs, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "I want to make you feel good."

He let out a low, guttural groan at your words, his hips jerking slightly in response "Do it," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

That was all the encouragement you needed.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the tip of him, your tongue flicking out to taste him.

The salty, slightly bitter taste of him filled your senses, your tongue swirling around him, tracing every vein and ridge of his cock.

You slid your tongue up one side and down the other, slowly sucking him in as you began to take him deeper.

Mike's reaction was immediate, his breath hitching as his grip in your hair tightened, a low groan rumbling in his chest. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough and raw with pleasure. "That's it... just like that... good boy..."

The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his dick as you kept moving, taking him deeper with each bob of your head.

Mike's hips began to move in time with your motions, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps as he fought to keep control, to keep from losing himself entirely to the pleasure you were giving him. But it was a losing battle, his control slipping as he let out a series of low, guttural grunts, his hands tightening in your hair as he pushed you closer, his need for release becoming more urgent.

"Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're so good... so fucking good."

You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the tension in his body building with each passing second, and you knew he was close. You doubled your efforts, taking him as deep as you could, your hands gripping his thighs for support as you moved faster, more insistently, wanting nothing more than to push him over the edge, to hear him cry out your name as he came.

And then, with a low, broken groan, he did. His release hit you with a sudden, overwhelming intensity, the salty warmth of him filling your mouth as he came, his entire body shuddering with the force of it. You swallowed him down as you continued to work him through his orgasm, milking every last drop from him until he was spent, his chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath.

He leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand gently stroking your hair as he whispered, "Thank you"

His arms wrapped around you, holding you firmly against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

Mike grunted slightly as he shifted, trying to get a better look at you. “I wonder if you’ll ever stop getting all flustered and shy around me.” A small, teasing smile played on his lips, a rare sight that made your heart skip a beat.

Mike sighed, his hand gently stroking your thigh as he murmured, "I should get ready for work."

You knew he was right, but the thought of letting go of him, even for a moment, made your heart ache. Still with your butt seated comfortably on his lap, you tightened your grip on his chest, your voice soft and playful as you whispered, “Stay a little longer.” You laughed lightly, the sound a mix of genuine amusement and a hint of longing, hoping he’d catch the underlying wish in your words.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss while his hand squeezed softly your waist.

“I wish I could.”

You nodded, understanding, even though it hurt to let him go.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from him, watching as he stood and began to gather his clothes.

When he put his security vest on, he turned to you and stepped closer, the distance between you closing as he reached out, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder.

He glanced over his shoulder towards Abby, who was still, in her room, engrossed in her drawing. "Listen," he began, his voice dropping into a more serious tone, one that made you instinctively pay closer attention. "My aunt... she's been pushing harder lately. She's still doing her best at making our life a living hell. I wouldn't put it past her to try something drastic."

You frowned, your concern deepening. "What do you mean? Do you think she'd actually do something?"

Mike let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his stress. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I've got this bad feeling. Just be careful as always, okay? If anything feels off, anything at all, promise me you'll call."

You nodded, doing your best to project confidence. "I will. Don't worry, I'll keep Abby safe."

Mike's expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over his features.

"Alright," he said, his voice steady but still carrying that undercurrent of worry. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips pressing against your hair as he whispered, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe."

The door opened with a soft creak, and Mike stepped outside, disappearing into the twilight.

Abby was already in her room, her small frame bent over a large piece of paper, crayons scattered around her like a rainbow explosion. The television murmured softly in the background, playing one of her favorite cartoons, but her attention was fully captured by the world she was creating with her drawings.

As the clock ticked closer to her bedtime, you suggested a quieter activity to help her wind down. You decided on a movie, something light and fun that wouldn't keep her up later with nightmares. She chose one of her favorites, and you settled down on the couch together, the soft glow of the television illuminating the living room.

But as the minutes passed, you started to notice something strange. It was subtle at first-barely noticeable-but it grew more persistent with time.

A faint noise, like the creaking of floorboards, echoed from somewhere in the house. You dismissed it at first, telling yourself it was just the old house settling, but then you heard it again, louder this time.

Your heart skipped a beat as you strained to listen, but the noise stopped as quickly as it had started. You glanced down at Abby, who was completely engrossed in the movie, blissfully unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Not wanting to alarm her, you kept your concerns to yourself.

Then, you heard something else.

footsteps.

They were faint, but distinct, coming from outside the house. You tensed, trying to discern where they were coming from, but they seemed to move too quickly, as if someone was running around the perimeter of the house.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. "Abby," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady, "I'm just going to check on something, okay? I'll be right back"

She nodded absently, her eyes still glued to the screen. You gave her a reassuring smile before slipping off the couch and heading toward the front window. The footsteps had stopped, but you still felt uneasy. You moved carefully, peering out the window into the darkness beyond.

At first, you saw nothing, just the faint outline of the trees swaying in the night breeze. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw movement. A shadow, darting quickly between the trees. You blinked, trying to focus, but it was gone before you could be sure.

Your heart was pounding now, your grip tightening on the curtain. You leaned closer to the glass, scanning the yard for any sign of life, but the night was still, save for the rustling leaves.

You were just about to pull away when the phone rang, the sudden noise causing you to jump.

You cursed under your breath, feeling foolish for letting your nerves get the better of you, and hurried to answer the phone. "Hello?" you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Hey, it's me," Mike's familiar voice greeted you, instantly soothing some of your anxiety, "Is everything okay?"

You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, though your voice still held a hint of the tension you'd been feeling. "What about you? How's work?

Mike sighed, the weariness in his voice evident even over the phone. "Boring. Me and the cameras tonight, keeping an eye on everything." He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to continue. "I- I was thinking about you," he added, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Oh? And what were you thinking?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, and you could almost imagine him fidgeting, trying to find the right words. "Well, I was wondering if, you know, maybe later on, when Abby's asleep, you'd be up for... helping me out a bit? Like you did before I left."

You felt a spark of excitement at the idea. You knew exactly what he meant, and the thought of it made your pulse quicken.

"You mean... like phone sex?" you teased, keeping your voice low so Abby wouldn't overhear.

Mike chuckled softly, and you could hear the relief in his voice. "Yeah.. something like that. Only if you're up for it, of course."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a grin. "I think I could be convinced," you replied, letting a playful edge slip into your tone. "Though I'm not sure you'll be able to focus on your job afterward."

"Who says I'm focused on it now?" he quipped back, his voice carrying that familiar blend of affection and humor that you loved so much.

You laughed quietly, feeling more at ease now than you had all evening. "Alright, you've got a deal. But I should probably warn you, Abby's still full of energy, so it might be a little while."

"That's okay," Mike said, his voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone. "Just thinking about it will keep me going until then."

There was a brief pause, and then Mike spoke again, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you, you know that?"

You felt your heart swell at his words. "I love you too, Mike. I'll see you soon."

You hung up the phone, feeling both relieved and anxious. The house was quiet again, but the sense of unease hadn't entirely dissipated. You quickly went around, double-checking that everything was locked, before returning to the living room where Abby was still watching her movie.

She looked up at you with a smile and you forced a smile back, trying to appear calm.

You couldn't help but glance at the window again, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure standing there.

But there was nothing. Just the dark, quiet night outside.

Eventually, Abby yawned, her small hand rubbing at her eyes. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was getting close to her bedtime.

"Alright, little artist," you said with a playful smile, gently taking the crayon from her hand. "I think it's time to start winding down."

You helped her gather up the crayons and paper, placing them neatly on the table for her to continue tomorrow. Then, you guided her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her small hand warm in yours as you led her through the bedtime routine.

Once Abby was ready for bed, you tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin as she snuggled into her pillow.

"Are you okay, Abby?" you asked softly, wanting to make sure she wasn't picking up on any of the tension you were feeling.

She nodded sleepily, a small smile on her lips. "I'm okay. I like when you're here," she said, her eyes earnest as she looked up at you.

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, her eyes never leaving yours. "Because Mike smiles more.”

The statement caught you slightly off guard, but you smiled gently, curious about what she meant. "He does? What do you mean, Abby?"

Abby nodded earnestly, her face serious as she explained. "He doesn't smile a lot, you know. But when you're here, he does. Sometimes it's just a little one, like he's trying to hide it. But I can see it."

"He talks about you a lot too," Abby continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if she was sharing a secret. "Like when we're having breakfast or when he's helping me with my homework. He misses you when you're at college," Abby added, her brow furrowing slightly as she recalled something else.

"He gets grumpy sometimes when you're not here. He doesn't say it. He doesn't laugh as much, and he's more quiet."

You reached out and gently squeezed her hand, feeling an overwhelming sense of love for both her and Mike. "Thank you for telling me that, Abby. It means a lot to hear that. Sweet dreams, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured, already drifting off as her eyes fluttered shut.

You stayed there for a moment, watching her breathe softly, her small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. There was something so peaceful, so innocent about her in that moment, and it only made you more determined to protect her, to keep her safe no matter what.

Finally, you quietly slip out of the room and close the door behind you.

The hallway was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the lamp in the living room.

You made your way back to the couch, intending to relax for a bit, maybe read a book or watch something lighthearted to take your mind off things.

But as you settled onto the couch, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had been growing since Mike left. It wasn't anything specific, just a gnawing feeling in the back of your mind, like something wasn't quite right.

You tried to push it away, focusing on the book you'd brought with you, but the words seemed to blur together, your mind too distracted to make sense of them.

After a few minutes, you gave up, setting the book aside and leaning back against the cushions with a sigh. And that's when you noticed it. A flicker of movement outside the window, just at the edge of your vision.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes darted to the window. For a moment, there was nothing, just the reflection of the room in the glass.

But then you saw it again, a shadow passing by, quick and almost imperceptible.

You stood up slowly, moving towards the window with cautious steps, trying to convince yourself that it was nothing, maybe just a trick of the light or an animal passing by.

But as you reached the window and peered out into the darkness, you saw it again this time, clearer.

A figure, moving through the shadows, too close to the house to be anyone just passing by.

Your heart began to race, your pulse pounding in your ears as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing.

You backed away from the window, moving quickly but quietly through the house to check the locks on the doors. The front door was secure, as was the back door, but the uneasy feeling in your chest only grew stronger.

You returned to the living room, trying to decide what to do next. Should you call Mike? The police? You didn't want to overreact, but the thought of someone lurking outside the house, especially with Abby asleep in the next room, was enough to make your blood run cold.

And then, as if to confirm your worst fears, you heard a faint scratching sound, like something sharp scraping against wood.

It was coming from the back door.

Panic surged through you, your hands trembling as you fumbled for the phone.

You quickly dialed the number of the eerie place Mike was working in, your heart racing as the phone rang in your ear.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"There's someone outside," you whispered, your voice shaking with fear. "I think they're trying to get in."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a soft curse. ""I’ll call the police and then head over. Don't open the door for anyone except me, okay? I'm on my way.” Mike instructed, his voice firm despite the worry you could hear.

You hung up, your mind racing as you quickly moved towards Abby's room. The scratching at the back door grew louder, more insistent, but you forced yourself to focus on getting Abby to safety.

"Abby, sweetheart, wake up," you whispered urgently as you shook her gently. She stirred, blinking sleepily up at you.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"We're going to play a game," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that was threatening to overwhelm you. "We're going to hide, and you have to be really, really quiet, okay?"

She nodded, her wide eyes staring up at you, filled with trust. Her innocence made your heart ache, but you pushed that feeling down, focusing on the task at hand. You gently move towards her "secret fort."

You helped her crawl inside, making sure she was comfortable and well-hidden under layers of blankets. The space was cramped, barely big enough for her small frame, but you knew it was the safest place for her. You reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a reassuring smile even though your insides were twisting with fear.

"Stay here, Abby," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "No matter what happens, stay here until I come back for you. Don't make a sound, okay?"

Abby nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line as she did her best to be brave. "I'll be really quiet," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly.

You smiled at her, trying to mask the fear you felt, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Good girl," you said softly, your heart breaking as you closed the fort, hiding her from view.

You stood there for a moment, your hand resting on the top of the dresser, as the reality of the situation began to sink in. The house was too quiet now, the silence pressing in on you from all sides. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribcage as you strained to hear any sound that might give away the intruder's location.

You knew you couldn't stay in Abby's room, it was too risky. If the intruder found you, there was a chance he would discover Abby, and you couldn't let that happen.

He seemed to know how to move in this situations, locking her room from the inside would just trap you in it.

You had to draw him away from her, give her as much of a chance as possible to stay hidden.

With every muscle in your body tensed, you quietly slipped out of Abby's room and moved toward the hallway. The shadows seemed to shift and dance around you, the darkness feeling thicker, more oppressive than before. You paused at the door, listening intently.

The scratching had stopped, replaced by the sound of footsteps moving through the house.

He was inside.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body tense as you listened.

The footsteps were getting closer, each one sending a fresh wave of fear crashing over you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to decide what to do.

You moved quietly but quickly down the hallway, each step measured and precise. You didn't dare make a sound. The house now felt like a trap, each corner a potential hiding place for the intruder. You reached Mike's bedroom door and slipped inside, closing it gently behind you.

Mike's room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the thin curtains.

You pressed your back against the wall beside the door, your breath shallow and rapid. You could hear the intruder's footsteps growing louder, closer. The sound sent a chill down your spine. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, but every idea seemed more desperate and hopeless than the last.

And then the footsteps stopped, just outside Abby's room.

Your heart lurched in your chest, your breath catching as you realized the intruder was inside Abby's room. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you searched for any possible thing to hit the man.

You knew you had to stay hidden,but when you heard the faint rustling sounds coming from Abby's room, your heart sank. You peered through the small crack in the door, barely daring to breathe as you saw the intruder crouching down beside Abby's bed, carefully placing something under it. The glint of metal caught your eye. A knife, long and sharp, was placed there deliberately.

Your blood ran cold as you realized what he was doing.

He was planting evidence.

Trying to make it look like Mike was keeping dangerous items where a child could find them. He wasn't just trying to scare you, he was trying to destroy Mike.

The intruder moved with an unsettling calmness, methodically working through the room as if he had all the time in the world. He opened Abby's dresser and placed something inside, something small and white that you couldn't quite make out.

Pills, likely. Perhaps the prescription Mike had mentioned in passing, the ones he rarely touched now but kept for nights when the insomnia got too bad.

Anger flared in your chest, hot and consuming, as you watched the intruder desecrate Abby's room, turning it into a scene of fabricated neglect.

How could someone do this?

How could they be so heartless, so cruel?

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes darting to where Abby was hidden, ensuring she was well-concealed. As your foot stepped down on the floor, it creaked loudly, shattering the silence.

His covered head snapped up instantly, and your eyes locked for a heartbeat before you jerked your head back inside the room.

The sound of his footsteps grew louder, each one faster and more urgent than the last, echoing ominously through the hallway.

Panic surged through you. There was nothing here, nothing even remotely close to a weapon. He was getting closer.

The door creaked as it was slowly opened, the movements of the man careful and deliberate. You pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

But it was too late.

His eyes swept the room, and in the dim light, they locked onto you.

For a heartbeat, time stood still. Your eyes met the intruder’s, and in that instant, you saw the raw terror flicker in his gaze as he realized he was caught. The silence was shattered as he lunged at you, his movements frantic and desperate. His hands, cold and clammy, reached out to stifle your scream.

The force of his attack sent you crashing on the floor, your head slamming into the floor with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in your skull, your vision blurring as you tried to fight back, your hands pushing at him, your nails clawing at his arms in a desperate attempt to break free.

His hands found your throat, squeezing with a terrifying intensity, cutting off your air.

You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to breathe, but his grip only tightened.

The world around you began to spin, the edges of your vision darkening as your strength started to fade.

You fought with everything you had, your survival instinct kicking in as you tried to pry his hands off your neck, but it was no use. He was nearly double your size, his weight blocking you down on the floor, his strength overwhelming.

Your vision tunneled, and the last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was the cold, unfeeling eyes of the intruder. Your hands fell limp, your body going still as the fight drained out of you.

The pressure on your throat increased, and then...

nothing.

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by a muffled scream of pain.

The intruder convulsed violently as a muffled scream of pain erupted from behind his mask. He stumbled backward, away from your lifeless form, writhing on the floor as the electrical current tore through him.

Mike stood in the doorway, his face twisted with fury. He held the taser that Vanessa had given him for protection after Abby was taken at Freddy's, and he was already moving towards the intruder, who was writhing on the floor, his screams of agony muffled by the mask he wore.

He lunged forward, pushing the intruder back on the floor with his body as he tried to get back up. His fists rained down on the intruder’s face with ferocity, each punch fueled by a combination of fear, anger, and desperation.

His grunts filled the room, each one punctuating the brutal force of his blows. There was no mercy in his movements, only the desperate need to protect, to punish.

The intruder's attempts to fight back grew weaker with each passing second, his body limp and barely responsive under Mike's relentless assault. His fists were driven by something primal, something that transcended reason or logic.

The world had taken too much from him already, and he refused to let it take any more.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as Mike continued his brutal assault, his rage all consuming.

But then, as if from a great distance, something cut through the fog of his anger. A small, almost imperceptible movement, a gentle touch on his shoulder. His body tensed, but he hesitated for just a fraction of a second. The rhythm of his punches faltered, the force behind them weakening as a different kind of awareness began to seep into his mind.

Mike's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with exertion. His fists hovered above the broken, bloodied form of the intruder, shaking with the effort it took to hold back.

His vision was blurred, the world around him slowly coming back into focus. The room was a mess, blood staining the floor and the walls, and there, just within his line of sight, was you watching him, your eyes filled with something he couldn't quite place.

Mike turned to you, his hands trembling as they reached out to touch your face, as if to make sure you were really there, really okay.

"I thought... I thought I lost you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Without another word, he pulled you into a deep, desperate hug, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe.

You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as the adrenaline slowly faded.

Mike buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "you’re okay... you’re okay...”

Mike pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching your face as if needing to see for himself that you were really there, that you were really okay. His hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your cheeks.

His eyes flicked to the bruises on your neck.

"I'm okay," you reassured him, though the pain in your throat made it hard to speak.

"I love you," Mike murmured into your hair, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache

"I love you too," you whispered back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you despite everything that had happened.

After a few moments, Mike reluctantly let go, his gaze shifting to the unconscious intruder on the floor. The man was still breathing, though barely, his chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths.

You moved back to the fort where Abby was still hidden, her small form curled up under the blankets you hide her in. Gently, you knelt down beside her. She was asleep, her breathing soft and steady, unaware of the terror that had unfolded just outside her door. You carefully scooped her up into your arms, holding her close as you carried her out of the room.

Once the intruder was tied up and secure, Mike returned to you, his expression softening he saw you with Abby and he reached out, brushing a hand gently over her hair. "She's okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, smiling softly. "She slept through the whole thing. She doesn't know."

Mike let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as some of the tension drained from him. "Good," he murmured. "That's good."

The sound of approaching sirens filled the air, growing louder as they neared the house.

The authorities arrived quickly and the intruder was taken away. He soon confessed to being someone hired by Mike's aunt in a desperate attempt to discredit him.

The police officer's words felt distant as you replayed the night's events in your mind. It was only when you felt Mike's hand squeeze yours that you were pulled back to the present.

"Let's get you checked out," Mike said softly, concern still evident in his voice as he led you to the waiting ambulance.

You nodded, exhaustion finally catching up to you as you allowed him to guide you outside. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Mike's hand holding yours.

The paramedics were gentle as they checked you over, their hands moving carefully as they assessed the bruises on your neck and the minor injuries you'd sustained during the struggle. Mike stayed by your side the entire time, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the night.

When they were finished, Mike helped you into the back of the ambulance, where you sat together, the silence between you filled with a thousand unspoken words. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

His grip on you tightened, as if the very thought of what could have happened was too much to bear. "I couldn't lose you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not you, not Abby. You both mean everything to me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently touch his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his cheek. "We're okay, Mike," you said softly, your voice filled with a quiet strength. "We're safe. And we'll get through this together."

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[zerun0]

"Where Love Flows Like Water" — Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advices on how to improve my work.

Inspired by my own personal experience. — !SFW! — Established relationship, Fluff, Flirting, Aquarium, First kiss. — Word count: — 2,5k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The streets of Piltover had a soft glow in the afternoon sun, casting warm light onto the city’s elegant architecture. The Academy loomed large behind Y/N as she descended the steps, her heart racing in her chest. She had spent the entire day thinking about this moment — her very first date with Viktor.

Viktor, the enigmatic, brilliant student, whose mind seemed to work on levels beyond most. His quiet demeanor and thoughtful nature had always intrigued her. Y/N had been unsure if he even noticed her amid his busy research and invention-filled life. But here she was, walking toward the Piltover Aquarium for an afternoon together. A gentle breeze toyed with the strands of her hair as she neared the entrance, where Viktor waited.

Dressed in his usual simple, well-worn jacket and gloves, Viktor’s warm, golden eyes lit up as he spotted her. His crutch was resting against his side, and he gave a slightly shy wave as she approached.

"Y/N," he greeted, his voice soft but tinged with nervousness. "You look... lovely today... so lovely."

A slight blush warmed her cheeks. "Thank you, Viktor. You look... thoughtful, as always."

He chuckled, his gaze lowering for a moment, the tips of his ears tinged pink. “I suppose that’s a compliment.”

Y/N giggled as entered the aquarium together, the grand, dome-shaped building humming with a gentle energy. A calm, serene atmosphere filled the space, enhanced by the soft gurgling of water and the shifting colors reflected from tanks.

— In the aquarium —

The first display they passed was a large circular tank filled with a school of shimmering, silver fish. Their scales caught the light and reflected it in an iridescent cascade, creating patterns that danced across the room’s walls.

“These are Glimmerfish,” Viktor said, his voice calm but tinged with the excitement that came when he spoke about something scientific, as he tried to start talking to Y/N to make things less awkward. “They reflect light in a way that creates optical illusions — see how the patterns change as they swim? It’s fascinating.”

Y/N leaned closer to the glass, watching the fish move in unison, creating a mesmerizing effect. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass slightly. “I can see why they’re called Glimmerfish.”

Viktor stepped beside her, his presence warm and comforting. There was something undeniably charming about how he talked — always quietly, as though each word mattered. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and Y/N could feel his gaze. She smiled, turning toward him, catching him mid-look.

His eyes widened, and he quickly glanced back to the fish, fumbling for words. “Uh, yes, they… they’re quite interesting. Their patterns... ah, tend to shift based on light conditions.”

Y/N let out a small giggle, the sound soft and affectionate. “You know so much. I love how passionate you get about these things.”

Viktor cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing as he looked at her. “It’s hard not to be, when the world is so full of things to learn. But I… I’m glad you enjoy hearing about it.”

They moved on, walking side by side through the halls of the aquarium. The soft glow from the tanks cast a blue light over them, making everything feel dreamlike. As they wandered deeper into the displays, the conversation between them flowed easily, even if both of them were slightly nervous. Y/N found herself relaxing more with each passing minute, feeling more comfortable in Viktor’s presence.

As they reached the next exhibit, a wide tank filled with a variety of colorful, exotic fish, Viktor hesitated. “May I… hold your hand?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, laced with the vulnerability of someone unused to asking for such things.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question. She blinked, looking up at him, her face warming. His hand was outstretched slightly, hovering between them, as though he was unsure if he should pull it back or continue forward.

“I...I’d like that,” she said, her voice soft and sincere.

With a tentative smile, Viktor gently took her hand in his. His grip was light, delicate, as if he were afraid of hurting her, but Y/N squeezed back reassuringly. They stood together for a moment, both looking down at their intertwined fingers, the silence around them broken only by the soft splashing of water and the distant hum of life inside the tanks.

The tank before them was teeming with vibrantly colored creatures. Fish of every shape and size darted through the water, weaving between the coral structures that had been painstakingly recreated to mimic an ocean reef. There was something playful and innocent about the way the fish moved, as if they were dancing just for the two of them.

One particularly striking fish caught Y/N’s attention. It was small and round, with long, delicate fins that billowed like silk in the water. Its body was a soft pastel pink, and it had a curious expression on its face, like it was examining them as much as they were examining it.

“That one looks like it’s judging us!” Y/N said, pointing at the fish, a light laugh escaping her.

Viktor chuckled beside her, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Some of these species are known...well... for their intelligence.”

The fish hovered near the glass for a few moments, its wide, unblinking eyes following their every move before it darted away, disappearing into the coral. Y/N sighed contentedly, leaning slightly into Viktor’s side as they watched the rest of the tank’s inhabitants swim lazily by.

“It’s nice,” Y/N said softly after a while, her gaze still on the fish but her thoughts clearly on something else. “...Being here... with you.”

Viktor’s grip on her hand tightened just slightly, a silent acknowledgment of her words. “I feel the same,” he admitted quietly. “I… wasn’t sure if this would be something you’d enjoy. I know I’m not exactly the most… exciting person.”

Y/N turned to look at him, her expression soft and earnest. “Viktor, I like you for who you are. You don’t have to be exciting or different. I like your quietness, your thoughtfulness. This—” she gestured to the aquarium around them, “—this is perfect. Being with you is perfect.”

Viktor’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. The soft glow of the tanks, the gentle hum of water, everything faded into the background. It was just them, standing close, hands entwined, hearts beating in sync. Viktor’s face softened, a rare smile gracing his lips — one that was just for her.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, the warmth in his eyes filling her with a sense of closeness she had never experienced before. She could feel the faint tremor in Viktor's hand, the same nervousness that fluttered in her own chest, but there was something else, something tender and unspoken in the way he looked at her.

"Viktor..." she whispered, barely able to form the words as her throat tightened with a surge of emotions she couldn't quite name.

His name, on her lips, seemed to anchor him. He took a breath, slow and measured, as if the weight of the moment had finally settled around them. Viktor's fingers tightened slightly around hers, as though gathering the courage to act on the emotions swirling between them.

The area was empty, dark, lighten up only by the artificial lights from the tanks... it felt like the perfect moment.

He trailed off, his eyes dropping to her lips for the briefest of moments, then returning to her eyes, asking a silent question. The air between them crackled with tension, but not the kind that pushed them apart. It was the kind that pulled them closer, like a magnetic force drawing them together in ways neither of them had fully anticipated.

Viktor’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. The soft glow of the tanks, the gentle hum of water, everything faded into the background. It was just them, standing close, hands entwined, hearts beating in sync. Viktor’s face softened, a rare smile gracing his lips — one that was just for her.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, the warmth in his eyes filling her with a sense of closeness she had never experienced before. She could feel the faint tremor in Viktor's hand, the same nervousness that fluttered in her own chest, but there was something else, something tender and unspoken in the way he looked at her.

"Viktor..." she whispered, barely able to form the words as her throat tightened with a surge of emotions she couldn't quite name.

His name, on her lips, seemed to anchor him. He took a breath, slow and measured, as if the weight of the moment had finally settled around them. Viktor's fingers tightened slightly around hers, as though gathering the courage to act on the emotions swirling between them.

“I…” Viktor began, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked with hers. “I don’t always know how to express what I feel, but right now…”

He trailed off, his eyes dropping to her lips for the briefest of moments, then returning to her eyes, asking a silent question. The air between them crackled with tension, but not the kind that pushed them apart. It was the kind that pulled them closer, like a magnetic force drawing them together in ways neither of them had fully anticipated.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she felt Viktor lean in, the space between them growing smaller, the warmth of his presence enveloping her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a rush of excitement and nervousness overwhelming her senses. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, they were closer than ever, his forehead resting lightly against hers. The soft scent of him, the subtle smell of his cologne, woody and floral, surrounded her.

“Is this… okay?” Viktor asked softly, his voice barely audible, his breath warm against her lips.

Y/N’s heart swelled at the care in his words, the quiet hesitation that made him so uniquely Viktor. She nodded, her lips parting slightly as she whispered, “Yes.”

That one word was all it took. Viktor closed the remaining distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was a gentle, fragile thing — as though he were afraid she might pull away, afraid to break the spell that had woven itself between them. But Y/N didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her free hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

The kiss was sweet, unhurried, and filled with all the emotions they had both kept locked away for so long. Viktor’s lips were warm, slightly chapped from the long hours he spent working in his lab, but they moved with a tenderness that made Y/N’s heart flutter. There was something so intimate in the way he kissed her, as though he were discovering a part of himself he had never known existed until this moment.

Slowly, hesitantly, Viktor pulled back, his lips hovering just inches from hers. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what had just happened. His hand was still in hers, fingers gently intertwined, as if he were afraid to let go.

They stood there for what felt like forever, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the soft hum of the aquarium filling the space around them. It was as if the world had shifted on its axis, and all that mattered now was the connection between them, the unspoken promise that whatever had just bloomed between them was something worth nurturing.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t… I don’t always know how to express these things. But I’m… happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Y/N smiled back at him, her heart swelling with affection. “I’m happy too, Viktor.”

"Shall we continue.. our little date?" - Y/N said happily, holding his hands tightly

"YES ! " - Viktor spoke, his voice louder than he intended - "I am sorry, we should...continue" - He said nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

They continued their walk through the aquarium, hand in hand, the soft light reflecting off the tanks painting their skin in hues of blue and green. Viktor pointed out more fish to her as they passed by — some tiny and darting quickly through the water, others large and slow-moving, their scales shimmering under the dim lights.

At one point, they reached a tank filled with jellyfish, their translucent bodies glowing softly in the darkened room. The jellyfish floated gracefully, their long, tendril-like appendages trailing behind them like ribbons in the water. Y/N and Viktor stood in awe, watching the way the creatures moved with such effortless grace.

“They’re so delicate,” — Y/N whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the sight.

Viktor nodded, his gaze fixed on the jellyfish. “Yes. But they’re also resilient. Some species of jellyfish can live for hundreds of years, regenerating themselves over time. They’re a fascinating example of nature’s ingenuity.”

Y/N smiled, marveling at how Viktor could see the beauty in even the smallest things. His mind worked in ways she could barely comprehend, always seeking to understand, to learn. It was one of the things she admired most about him.

They stayed there for a long while, watching the jellyfish drift lazily through the water, neither of them feeling the need to speak. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that they didn’t need to fill the air with words to enjoy each other’s company.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with the uncertainty that always seemed to accompany his thoughts. “But I know that… I want you to be part of it.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, a wave of warmth and affection flooding through her. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with the same sincerity that had always drawn her to him. “I want that too, Viktor.”

— Outside —

As they left the aquarium, the evening sky above Piltover had turned shades of pink and orange, the sun setting over the horizon. They walked side by side, still holding hands, their steps slow and unhurried. The cool evening air was refreshing, a pleasant contrast to the warm glow that still lingered in Y/N’s chest.

“Thank you for today,” Y/N said softly as they reached the steps of the Academy.

Viktor smiled at her, his eyes warm and filled with a rare sense of peace. “No. Thank you, Y/N. For making it… special.”

They stood there for a moment, neither wanting to break the quiet, lingering closeness between them. Finally, Viktor lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft, shy kiss across her knuckles.

Y/N pulled him by the tie, and closed a passionate kiss on his soft lips. His eyes were wide as he stared surprised at what just happened, but only took him seconds to relax and reciprocate the kiss.

[tkdb-hell]

💓 want to request 41 (gn reader and romeo) thanksie!

#41 - Kisses shared under an umbrella.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The rain fell in a steady, rhythmic cascade, drumming softly against the fabric of the dark navy umbrella Romeo held over your heads. The rain fell in a steady, rhythmic cascade, drumming softly against its fabric as the stone paths of Darkwick’s courtyard glistened under the dim, golden glow of the streetlights, each puddle reflecting shards of light like broken mirrors. You huddled closer to Romeo, your shoulders brushing his, as the cold wind swept past.

“You’re leaning too close,” he said, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. “Do you have any idea how much this coat cost? Water damage is unforgivable.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned slightly away, though the space between you remained almost nonexistent. “You invited me to walk with you, Romeo. Don’t act like this is some grand inconvenience.”

His magenta eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly in challenge. “I didn’t invite you. You tagged along, uninvited.”

“And yet, here we are,” you said, grinning. “Guess I’m more persuasive than I thought.”

Romeo’s scoff was as elegant as the rest of him. The faintly darker tips of his short gray hair curled slightly from the humidity, though he’d never admit it aloud. One hand rested on the umbrella’s handle while the other idly adjusted his gold earring, a practiced motion betraying his ever-present preoccupation with his appearance.

“Don’t misinterpret my charity,” he replied. “I’m simply ensuring you don’t ruin the scenery by tripping over yourself and falling into a puddle. If you embarrass yourself while accompanying me, it reflects poorly on my reputation.”

“Of course,” you said, biting back a laugh. “Because everything’s about you.”

“Naturally,” Romeo said smoothly, glancing sidelong at you. The faintest curve of a smirk tugged at his lips, softening the usual sharpness of his expression.

The two of you stopped at the edge of a quiet expanse of nature. The path stretched ahead, lined with rain-dappled trees that whispered secrets as the wind shook their leaves. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh, rain-soaked air, feeling its coolness wash over you.

“You like this?” Romeo asked, his tone caught between incredulity and curiosity. “Getting soaked like a BB in the middle of nowhere when there’s a perfectly dry casino back at Sinostra?”

“It’s peaceful,” you said, shrugging. “And you can’t gamble under an umbrella.”

“True,” he admitted. “Though that sounds like the premise of a disaster movie. Imagine someone losing all their chips to the wind. Tragic. Not that I would know. Gambling is a fool’s game.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the rain. Romeo glanced at you, and for a moment, his sharp features softened further. He looked almost... curious. Vulnerable, even.

“What?” you asked, noticing his gaze lingering a second too long.

“You have a ridiculous smile,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

“And yet you’re staring at it,” you shot back, raising a brow.

Romeo clicked his tongue, shifting his weight. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m simply trying to understand what makes you so irritatingly optimistic.”

“Maybe it’s because moments like this make me happy,” you said honestly, gesturing to the rain and the quiet park. “Even if you’re grumbling the whole time, I’m still glad to be here.”

His magenta eyes widened slightly, and for the briefest moment, the practiced mask he wore cracked. He hesitated, then leaned in closer, the umbrella tilting just enough to let a drop of rain catch on his cheek.

“You’re hopeless,” he muttered.

Before you could respond, Romeo closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle for someone so sharp-edged. The scent of his luxury cologne mixed with the petrichor around you, intoxicating and warm. His hand, free from the umbrella, rested lightly on your wrist, steadying you.

When he pulled back, the faintest dusting of color bloomed on his cheeks, though he covered it quickly with a raised brow and his signature smirk.

“That should keep you quiet for a moment,” he said, his voice calm, though his fingers tightened slightly on the umbrella’s handle.

You grinned, your heart pounding. “So, was that about protecting your reputation, or...”

“That was your LB, don’t push it,” Romeo interrupted, though the way he avoided your gaze betrayed the slightest hint of flustered sincerity.

The rain continued to fall, but beneath the shared shelter of the umbrella, the cold felt a little less biting. And as Romeo began walking again, you couldn’t help but notice the faintest curve of a real smile tugging at his lips.

[scarletwinterxx]

thank my lucky stars for that night - hong joshua imagine

to start this special day, i'm just going to say a few things about my favorite person aka Jisoo Hong🥺 through the years i've known svt, whenever someone asks me who my bias was I'd always say Joshua (this was way back when I was just a casual fan) now we're here. I like to believe there's this invisible string that's tied between us, my heart knew i would love him before my mind ever did. happy happy birthday My Josh🤍 you brought so much happiness and light in my life.

ANYWAYS OKAY SO i was just thinking what if... i make more of the members x proposal scene😅 turns out i really like making these. this will also probably my last post for this year, thank you all so much for being part of my year. for those who has shown love to my blog, for loving my stories thank you all so much from all 13 parts of my heart🤍

see you all next year!!! here's to many more fluff moments💛 - A.N🌻

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The soft hum of anticipation fills the air as you pace around the garden, making last-minute adjustments to the decorations. The fairy lights you meticulously strung through the branches of the oak trees twinkle like tiny stars, casting a warm glow over the carefully arranged tables.

You’ve been planning this evening for months, pouring over every detail to make it perfect for Joshua’s birthday and New Year’s Eve.

The garden is a symphony of colors and fragrances, with flowers blooming in soft pastels, their petals illuminated by the golden light of lanterns. This night isn’t just a celebration of his birthday but also of the love you’ve shared for the past four years.

Guests begin to arrive, their laughter and chatter adding life to the serene setting. Seungcheol, ever the charismatic presence, gives you a knowing grin as he takes in the ambiance. Jeonghan and Mingyu flank him, one carrying a bottle of wine and the other balancing a tray of appetizers. Seungkwan’s energetic voice cuts through the air as he jokes with Vernon, who’s capturing candid moments with his camera.

As the clock ticks closer to the moment Joshua is supposed to arrive, your nerves bubble to the surface.

You’ve gone to great lengths to keep this celebration a secret from him, and the thought of seeing his reaction fills you with both excitement and trepidation.

The garden fills with the hum of conversation, the sound of glasses clinking, and the occasional burst of laughter. Everything is ready.

When Joshua finally walks in, guided by Seungcheol, your heart skips a beat. Dressed in a sleek suit, he looks effortlessly handsome, his warm brown eyes scanning the scene before landing on you. His face lights up in surprise, his lips parting in a soft, astonished laugh.

“You did all this?” he asks, his voice tinged with awe as he takes in the decorations, the guests, and the love infused into every detail of the evening.

You nod, your cheeks flushing. “Happy birthday, Josh”

He pulls you into a hug, his arms enveloping you in a warmth that feels like home. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

You feel him kiss the top of head, hugging you tighter to his side as he takes in the scene in front of him. You really have outdone yourself.

Seungcheol, never one to miss a moment to tease, strolls over. “Alright, birthday boy, how does it feel to have someone who loves you enough to orchestrate this masterpiece?”

Joshua grins, holding you closer. “It feels pretty incredible. But I think I’ll reserve my final judgment until I see the dessert.”

“Oh, don’t worry, the dessert’s good. Mingyu didn’t touch it.” Jeonghan smirks, chiming in

“Hey!” Mingyu protests, looking genuinely offended. “I helped decorate the cake!”

“Sure you did,” Seungkwan quips, earning a round of laughter from everyone.

The evening unfolds like a dream. You watch as Joshua mingles with friends and family, his laughter blending seamlessly with theirs. The food, which you carefully curated to include his favorite dishes, is a hit. The cake—a decadent creation adorned with fresh flowers—is met with gasps of admiration. Every moment feels like a snapshot of joy, a testament to the life you’ve built together.

At one point, Joshua finds you by the dessert table, sneaking a second slice of cake. “Caught red-handed,” you tease, crossing your arms.

He shrugs, grinning mischievously. “What can I say? It’s my birthday. Besides, you can’t expect me to resist this. Did you try the frosting? It’s like happiness in edible form.”

“I did,” you reply, leaning closer. “And I’m starting to think I should’ve just given you a giant tub of it instead of planning all this.”

He laughs, pulling you into a quick kiss. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is perfect.”

But as the night progresses, you can’t shake the feeling that Joshua knows something you don’t. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, a secret he seems to be guarding with playful ease.

When the clock strikes ten, Joshua takes your hand. “Come with me,” he says, his voice soft but insistent.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion. “Should I be worried? You’re not going to prank me, are you?”

He chuckles. “Just trust me.”

He leads you to a secluded part of the garden, away from the laughter and clinking glasses. The path is lined with lanterns, their light casting dancing shadows on the cobblestone. When you reach the clearing, your breath catches in your throat.

Before you lies a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Hundreds of flowers blanket the ground, their vibrant colors glowing under the soft light of stringed bulbs overhead.

The air is thick with their sweet fragrance, mingling with the crispness of the night. The lights seem to stretch endlessly, creating a canopy of stars just for the two of you.

You turn to Joshua, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What is this?”

He smiles at you, guiding you right at the center of it all. You look around, it looked like he had this planned all along. But if he did, then that means he knew about your surprise.

All of this question swirling in your head, you look over at your boyfriend once again. His eyes watching you with adoration and love, a look you've seen through the years you've known him.

He takes both your hands in his, his gaze steady and full of affection. “I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment,” he begins, his voice tinged with emotion. “These past four years with you have been the happiest of my life. You’ve shown me what it means to love and be loved, and I can’t imagine spending my future without you in it”

Your heart races as he drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. When he opens it, the ring inside catches the light, its brilliance rivaled only by the look in his eyes.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, his voice steady despite the emotion brimming in his eyes.

You blink back tears, a laugh bubbling out amidst your astonishment. “Are you serious? You’re proposing on your birthday?”

“Yes, so be nice to me and technically, it’s almost New Year’s Eve. I figured it’d make it impossible for you to ever forget the date.”

Tears blur your vision as you nod, your voice trembling with joy. “Yes, Joshua. A thousand times, yes.”

As he slips the ring onto your finger, a burst of color fills the sky. Fireworks explode overhead, painting the night with dazzling hues of red, blue, and gold.

The sound is thunderous, yet it only amplifies the heartbeat of the moment. Joshua’s arms wrap around you, his laughter mingling with yours as you both look up at the sky.

When the fireworks fade and the garden is bathed once more in the gentle glow of the lights, your friends rush in, their cheers filling the air. Seungcheol claps Joshua on the back, Jeonghan pulls you into a tight hug, and Seungkwan’s voice carries above the rest as he dramatically wipes away a nonexistent tear. Vernon captures every moment, his camera clicking away as Mingyu lifts you off the ground in celebration.

“You know,” Mingyu says, setting you down, “this means we get to plan a wedding now. I call dibs on being the taste tester for the cake.”

“In your dreams,” Seungkwan retorts. “I’m the best judge of flavors here.”

“Not if I get to the bakery first,” Vernon mutters, earning a round of laughter.

The night is a whirlwind of congratulations, laughter, and promises for the future. The new year have yet to begin but here you are celebrating a new beginning of your relationship, you find yourself in Joshua’s arms, surrounded by the people you love most. The garden, now quieter, feels like a sanctuary, a place where one chapter of your life ended and another began.

And as Joshua leans in to kiss you, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you and the love that brought you here.

[cece693]

HAII I LOVE YOUR PJO FICS SO MUCH!! can i request jason x son of aphrodite thats really pretty ( and popular because of it ) but has severe social anxiety/is scared of talking to people so he just doesnt really interact with anyone ? THANK YOU 💜💜💜💜💜💜

My Safe Place

pairing: jason grace x son of aphrodite tags: fluff, jason is the reader's safe place, keeping it simple and short, fic came out more like a headcannon

Jason Grace had always believed in destiny—a series of fateful encounters woven together by the gods themselves. And meeting you, the son of Aphrodite, felt like the most divine twist of fate he'd ever experienced. You were stunning, a masterpiece carved by the hands of the goddess of love herself. Your golden hair caught the sunlight like threads of silk, and your eyes, a swirling blend of emerald and seafoam, seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. But what captivated Jason most wasn’t your immense beauty; it was your quiet, unassuming kindness.

You avoided attention like the plague. Social settings made you visibly uneasy, and the few times Jason had seen you among their peers at Camp Half-Blood, you'd clung to the edges of conversations, smiling nervously and rarely speaking unless addressed directly. Most people at camp thought your shyness was some aloof form of vanity, a stereotype that Jason knew couldn’t be further from the truth.

One particular evening, Jason decided to make things easier for his boyfriend. Knowing that you had hit your social limit for the day, Jason arranged for their dinner to be brought to your cabin. When Jason knocked gently on the door, you opened it with a look of surprise and relief. “Jason,” you whispered, voice warm despite your visible exhaustion.

“Hey,” He greeted, holding up the basket of food. “Thought we’d have a quiet dinner here tonight. Just the two of us.”

Your eyes lit up, and you stepped aside to let Jason in. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Jason set the basket on a small table near the window. Your cabin was as cozy as ever, filled with soft blankets, scented candles, and the faint scent of lavender. The two settled on the plush rug in the center of the room, their dinner spread out between them. Jason made sure to keep the conversation light, asking you about your plants and the sketches you'd been working on.

As they ate, your shoulders visibly relaxed. You leaned into Jason, finding comfort in his presence. After dinner, Jason pulled you into his arms, and they moved to the couch, surrounded by the soft glow of the candles. You nestled against Jason’s chest, your head resting just below Jason’s chin.

“You’re always so thoughtful,” You murmured, your voice tinged with gratitude.

Jason pressed a kiss to your hair. “You deserve it. I want you to feel safe and loved. Always.”

“I do. With you, I always do.”

They spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing. Jason told you stories from his time at Camp Jupiter, making you laugh softly. You, in turn, shared quiet confessions of your fears and dreams, trusting Jason in a way you trusted no one else. By the time the candles burned low, you were half-asleep in Jason’s arms, your breathing steady and calm.

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride! god zagreus, please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

It's not that difficult to find the bright, blazing light of Zagreus above the surface and pull himself there. He didn't even go very far - he's still on the same mountain as the entrance to the underworld.

Except when he appears, it's nothing like the mountaintop he remembers. All his angry words die on his tongue, replaced with a tentative sort of wonder.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Zagreus asks, beaming as he gestures to the lush forest and garden, full of plants and fruit that he's never seen before, in colors that shouldn't exist.

It's wild, but cultivated. They're in front of a fountain and there's a cobblestone path winding deeper into the forest, and even a hammock and a fishing pole near the pond, which is the part that he focuses on because it's the part that's connected to the Zagreus that he knows. He can easily imagine him lounging in that hammock for hours, pole held in a lazy grip that flicks back whenever he feels a bite.

"Prince?"

He turns and there is a woman coming up the path. She's beautiful, for a mortal, and just as lush as the greenery surrounding them. Zagreus's power is all around them, but she glows with it, giving her a subtle golden aura that any immortal could pick up on.

"Eliana," Zagreus says warmly. "Your father is taken care of. He was bragging about you to Sisyphus when I left."

She smiles, and it's tinged with sadness, but she says, "Thank you. You're all he talked about at the end. He was so excited to meet you."

He ducks his head. "Well, I hope I lived up to his expectations."

Zagreus had said that he wasn't married, but what else can this mortal be, who is cloaked in his power and speaks to him so casually? Thanatos's stomach flips then fills with acid.

"You never disappoint," she reassures, voice warm and fond and familiar. She flickers her eyes in his direction and raises an eyebrow.

"Ah," Zagreus's grin widens. "There's someone I want you to meet. This is Thanatos, the god of death, and, more importantly, he is my oldest and dearest friend."

She bows to him deeply, although she does not fully prostrate herself, which he feels uncharacteristically miffed about.

"Thanatos, this is Eliana. She is my high priestess. She oversees my the building of my temples and my orchards and is charged with discharging blessings in my name."

Ah.

No wonder she had not gotten to her knees before him. That level of devotion is reserved only for the god who's power she wields.

"You're a god," he says, staring at Zagreus, trying to reconcile everything he thought he knew with what's in front of him.

He smiles, teasing. "I've always been a god."

Yes and no.

He was always a god, but one without a domain. One without temples or worshippers or tributes. Even Thanatos doesn't have temples in his name.

"What are you the god of?" he asks, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat.

Eliana answers, "Our Prince is the god of life and the god of blood. Only he can provide shelter against the endless winter."

Thanatos blinks, because out of everything he's been told, this is the most unbelievable. "You - you're trying to stand against Demeter?"

"I have been standing against Demeter," he says, that familiar arrogance in every line of his body. "Who besides me? I am the son of the Lord of the Underworld and the Goddess of Spring. I will stave off death and call forth spring, for I am the god of life."

Fuck.

Thanatos misses a couple minutes ago when he thought they just had a civil war to deal with.

[ginxyy]

The First Kiss

The first kiss between You and Wonwoo Shouldn’t have happened but looking out at the city anything became possible.

It was a balmy summer evening when everything changed between us. The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the slightly open curtains, draping the living room in a warm, ethereal glow. I had been invited to the band’s apartment once again, a place that had started to feel like a second home. Music flowed from the speakers, intertwining with the laughter echoing from the kitchen where the members busied themselves with dinner preparations. My heart fluttered with excitement a mix of exhilaration and a sense of something more forbidden that lay beneath the surface.

Mingyu, my boyfriend and Wonwoo's best friend, moved about with effortless charm, playfully stealing bites of the food he was meant to be cooking. I watched him with fondness as he insisted I try a new recipe he was perfecting. It was moments like this that strengthened the bond we shared; yet, tonight, something about the atmosphere felt charged. I couldn’t shake the feeling of longing an inexplicable pull toward Wonwoo, who was leaning against the wall, observing the chaos unfold with an amused expression.

Wonwoo had always been mysterious to me. His quiet, observant demeanor held an allure that was impossible to ignore. While I had come to adore Mingyu, there was an unspoken chemistry between me and Wonwoo that lingered in the air whenever we were together. Our playful banter during late-night conversations had often left me wondering if there was more to our connection. My heart raced at the thought, electricity coursing through my veins every time our eyes met.

As the evening advanced and laughter filled the room, we drifted apart from the lively chaos of cooking and wandered outside to the small balcony that overlooked the city. The view was breathtaking, the skyline punctuated with vibrant lights that twinkled like stars. I leaned against the railing, inhaling the warm summer breeze, enjoying the moment and the feeling of freedom.

Wonwoo joined me, his presence making the air around us shimmer. I could feel the familiar weight of his gaze upon me, a combination of warmth and intensity that sent shivers down my spine. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he remarked, his voice low and melodic. Just as I turned to reply, he moved closer, the distance between us diminishing, drawing me into a world where only we existed.

“It is,” I whispered, my breath becoming shallow as the heat of his body enveloped me. The way he looked at me, with those dark, expressive eyes, ignited something within me something I tried so hard to suppress. But like a tidal wave, my heart surged, longing for a closeness that felt just out of reach.

Suddenly, our laughter faded, replaced by a more profound silence, charged with unspoken words and shared breaths. It was in that moment that everything shifted. We were on the precipice of something intoxicatingly forbidden, a reality that threatened to unravel the delicate tapestry of our lives.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with hesitation yet tinged with hope. My heart raced as his words echoed in my mind, but before I could summon a response, he leaned in, closing the space between us, and pressed his lips against mine.

That first kiss erupted into a whirlwind of heated moments soft and tentative at first, but quickly devolving into something more fervent, more consuming. I melted against him, surrendering to the wave of emotion that crashed over me, taking my breath away. My hands found their way into his dark hair, pulling him closer, wanting to lose myself in this heated embrace. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of longing, urgency, and unexpressed desires.

But even in that moment of sheer bliss, my heart wrenched at the thought of Mingyu, his laughter still echoing in the back of my mind. The weight of my choices threatened to drown me in guilt. Would he understand? Would he forgive me for crossing that line? My heart battled within my chest, torn between loyalty to Mingyu and the undeniable spark that ignited between Wonwoo and myself.

Just then, the door swung open, and in walked Dino, his expression morphing from surprise to horror in the blink of an eye. Time seemed to freeze as our eyes locked mine wide with shock, Wonwoo’s with panic. The world around me blurred into nothingness, the joyous laughter of the kitchen quieting to an eerie hush as reality crashed down like thunder.

“W-what are you guys doing?” Dino stuttered, his face morphing with confusion and disbelief. The warmth of our earlier passion evaporated, leaving nothing but a chill that crept in with the abrupt intrusion.

I pulled away from Wonwoo, the warmth of his body suddenly feeling like fire against my guilt-ridden skin. My eyes darted between the two boys—the innocent, curious Dino and the conflicted Wonwoo, who had opened this door I never intended to go through.

“I—” I stumbled over my words, searching for something to say that could untangle this mess, but no excuse felt right. The truth lay heavy on my tongue, yet the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I felt nothing but shame and regret. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for… this to happen.”

Dino’s expression shifted from shock to disappointment, the playful sparkle in his eyes replaced with hurt. “Mingyu is going to be heartbroken,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of those words landed like a stone in my chest.

Wonwoo’s hand slipped from mine, and the disillusionment settled in. “We’re going to talk,” he said, clearly struggling to maintain a semblance of composure. He turned to Dino, who stood frozen, as if trying to understand the complexity of it all. I wanted to reach out, to explain, but all I felt was the suffocating panic of what I had put into motion.

As Wonwoo and I slipped back inside, the laughter from the kitchen seemed distant, like echoes of a life I was suddenly unsure of. Our moment, charged with possibility and passion, had quickly spiraled into something messy and painful. I was left standing on the edge of a precipice, feeling the ground beneath my feet beginning to crumble.

In the heavy silence that followed, I realized that our blissful moment could not be reclaimed. Choices had been made, and the consequences were now weaving paths I couldn’t control. As I caught a glimpse of the life I had envisioned with Mingyu the laughter, the warmth, the love I couldn’t shake the realization that I had momentarily stepped out of that life and into a world of desires that would forever linger in the shadows.

I had to face the heart I had unwittingly fractured. In that moment, I understood the weight of the kiss shared with Wonwoo, a fleeting encounter that had opened a door to endless possibilities, yet trapped me in a web of complexity I wasn’t ready to confront. I could only hope that whatever lay ahead wouldn’t shatter the bonds we had all intricately woven; bonds of love, friendship, and the dreams of young hearts entwined.

[fairqves]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— LOML

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. husband! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. park sunghoon was once the love of your life, and now he would be remembered as the loss of it. genre. angst ,, wc. 1600. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ inspired by this song, i strongly advise u to listen to it as you’re reading<3 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and like !!

our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. your arsons match, your somber eyes. and I’ll still see it, until I die. you’re the loss of my life.

the sun had barely risen, casting a soft, golden light through the sheer curtains of your shared apartment. the faint glow illuminated the room, making everything look almost ethereal, like a scene from a dream. but this morning, it felt more like a nightmare.

you and sunghoon had been arguing the night before. it started over something small – he had forgotten to pick up groceries on his way home. but like all unresolved tensions, it escalated quickly. the argument spiraled into something neither of you had anticipated, touching on deeper, more painful issues that had been boiling up inside of you beneath the surface for months.

“i don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” sunghoon had said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“it’s not about the groceries, hoon!” you had snapped back. “it’s about you never listening to me anymore! you’re always so caught up in your own little world that you don’t even notice when i need you.”

he had run a hand through his hair, a gesture that showed he was trying to keep his temper in check. “that’s not fair, y/n. you know how busy i’ve been with work.” he said shaking his head at you as you felt yourself getting angrier.

“busy? we’re all busy! trust me, i’m busy too! but we make time for the people we care about. or at least, we’re supposed to.”

the argument had gone on for hours now, voices raised and accusations thrown cracking each of your hearts more by the second, each word cutting deeper. by the end, you were both exhausted and emotionally drained. sunghoon had retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone in the living room, tears streaming down your face.

you stared at the door, contemplating on making up with sunghoon, but you shook your head. you were done with the way he had been treating you, now he could deal with the consequences of his own actions.

the next day, in the early morning light, the weight of last night’s argument hung heavy in the air. you sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a cold cup of coffee. you replayed the argument over and over in your mind, feeling the sting of regret with every bitter word exchanged.

sunghoon emerged from the bedroom, dressed for work. his face was pale and his eyes red-rimmed, a stark contrast to his usual composed self. he paused in the doorway, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read – a mix of regret and something else, something you couldn’t place.

“i’m leaving for work,” he said quietly, almost whispering. “i’ll be back late tonight. we can talk then.”

you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. the words were stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a stiff nod.

sunghoon hesitated, then walked over to you. he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, y/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“mhm.”

that was all you could say, his words from last night were still clouded over you.

you were still too hurt, too angry. you didn’t respond. you didn’t even look at him. he lingered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else , anything else. when you didn’t, he straightened and walked out the door, the sound of it closing echoing through the empty apartment.

as the silence filled the air once again, you felt a churn in your stomach. a bad feeling, maybe you should’ve said something else, you thought.

the day passed in a blur. you went through the motions, trying to focus on anything other than the gnawing ache in your chest. but everything reminded you of sunghoon – his favorite coffee mug, the jacket he left draped over the chair, the photo of the two of you on the fridge, smiling and happy, a contrast to the misery you felt now.

you kept checking your phone, hoping for a text, a call, anything from sunghoon. but there was nothing. the silence was deafening.

It was now late in the evening, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, you had been sitting on your couch, waiting for sunghoon to get home, yes you were angry but you had missed him much more than anything else.

and suddenly, there was a knock at the door. you excitedly opened it expecting to find sunghoon, but except finding two police officers standing there, their faces solemn.

“are you park y/n?” one of them asked gently.

your heart dropped to your stomach, you knew whatever the man was going to say next probably wasn’t going to be good.

“yes,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

“i’m afraid we have some bad news ma’am. your partner, park sunghoon, was involved in a car accident this afternoon. and.. i’m sorry, he didn’t make it.”

the world seemed to stop. everything around you faded into a blur, and all you could hear was the deafening roar of your own heartbeat. you felt like you were drowning, the weight of their words dragging you down into a dark spiral.

“no, no, you’re mistaken.” you whispered, shaking your head. “no, that can’t be true. i just saw him this morning, he was here- he can’t be...”

the officers exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with pity. “i’m very sorry for your loss. if there’s anything we can do...”

but their words were lost on you. the room seemed to spin, and you clutched the doorframe to keep from collapsing. sunghoon was gone. your sunghoon.

the last thing you had said to him – or rather, hadn’t said – echoed in your mind, shadowing down on you as if it was mocking you, a cruel reminder of your silence.

“i love you, y/n.”

the memory of his soft voice, so soft and full of longing and love, cut through you like a knife. you had ignored him, let him walk out the door without a word. and now he was gone. forever, and you couldn’t help but think he died not knowing how much you had loved him.

in the days that followed, you moved through life in a daze, present but not really there. the apartment felt unbearable, each corner filled with the ghost of sunghoon. you couldn’t escape him, and the memories – his laughter, his touch, the way he used to hold you when you were sad. every moment was a painful reminder of what you had lost.

you found yourself replaying that final morning over and over, wishing you could go back, not arguing with him, holding him a little longer, asking him to stay, and telling him how much you had loved him, but it was too late. the chance to make things right had slipped right through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but regret and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

sunghoon’s funeral was a blur of black clothes, tears and somber faces. you stood by his casket, staring down at his peaceful face, wishing with everything in you that he would open his eyes, with that gentle smile, and tell you everything would be okay. but he didn’t. he was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

as you stood over the casket, you held his hand. it was cold, it wasn’t the same warm hands holding you at night- the same hands holding you only two weeks ago.

glistening tears ran down your cheek as the people surrounding you watched in pity and despair for you.

“poor girl.. losing her husband at such a young age, i can’t imagine.” they whispered.

as the weeks turned into months, the pain didn’t fade. it settled into your bones and became a part of you, a constant ache that you couldn’t escape. you tried to move on, tried to live your life, but the weight of your loss was always there, a heavy shadow that followed you everywhere.

you couldn’t possibly forget him, he was your everything, he was the love of your life- and now he’ll be remembered as the loss of your life.

every night, as you lay in bed, you would hear his voice in your mind, whispering those final words. “i love you, y/n.”

you’d feel the absence of his comforting embrace, the arms that would coax you to sleep, his kisses, the feeling of his hair tickling your neck.

you remembered the wedding vows, you remember how sunghoon had promised you a lifetime with him, how you were supposed to grow old together.

you would give anything to hear him say his last words to you one more time, to have one more chance to say it back. but all you had were memories, and the haunting realization that the love of your life was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

@FAIRQVES