#and possibly too excited about the thought of finally doing that

[vbecker10]

I found the prompt “this isn’t a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling” and thought it would be perfect for a Loki/reader to be the third and fourth wheel-maybe another couple is trying to set them up and both Loki and reader are alllllllll the way in denial. Would love fluff, idiots to lovers, and female reader character if possible. Thanks so much! 💚

This isn't a Double Date... Right?

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N), Bucky x Natasha

Summary: Natasha has been taking her role as your best friend and personal match maker way too seriously lately, setting you up on dozens of awful blind dates. After finally convincing her to stop, you resume your place as the official third wheel on Natasha and Bucky's date night. Or at least that's what you thought the plan was until you find out Bucky invited Loki to go out with you all and now he's the fourth wheel... because this isn't a double date, right?

A/N: I'm really, really sorry this took so long! I absolutely love this idea, thank you so much for sending this request! I hope you like it! 💚

Also... this is way longer than I thought it was going to be but I just can't seem to finish multi-part fics lately so I didn't want to risk only writing half of it lol

"I hate when you two are being cute," you roll your eyes as you walk into Natasha's apartment. You didn't bother to knock, you never do on blind date nights. The spy and her super soldier boyfriend know your routine by heart and are not at all surprised to see you.

Nat has been setting you up on blind dates for the last four months and each time you come straight to her apartment after. You can't tell who is more excited to see you, Nat because she is a surprisingly hopeless romantic and desperately wants to help her best friend find her perfect match or Bucky because he always has a snack ready to hear about how this date was so much worse than your last one.

Bucky's arms are wrapped around Natasha's waist as she cuts up fruit, his chest pressed against her back. "Hello to you too, grumpy," Nat laughs, shaking her head lightly when you close the door and take off your coat.

"I'm serious, it's gross," you fight back a smile as Bucky steals a piece of strawberry from the cut pile to eat.

"Those aren't for you," she swats his metal hand away before he takes another piece and he chuckles. While she's distracted with Bucky, you reach over the counter, taking a few pieces of fruit and popping them in your mouth. "You're as bad as he is," Nat laughs, throwing the top of a strawberry at you with expert precision. You fail to block the small piece of fruit and wipe your cheek as you bend down to pick it up off the floor.

Resting his chin on Natasha's shoulder he smirks at you, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess the date didn't go well... as usual."

"I'm going to die alone," you inform the couple, sitting at the island across from them. You drop your head dramatically on the counter and a laugh escapes Bucky.

"No you won't," he says with less sarcasm then you expect. You lift your head slightly to look at him and he smiles, "You're going to tag along with Nat and me until you die."

You lower your head back to the counter heavily with a loud sigh.

"Be nice," she looks up and scolds him.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," Bucky tries to defend his comment. "I just meant cause she always goes out with us when we go on dates anyway."

"Not making me feel better," you groan without lifting your head.

"You are not going to die alone," Nat finishes dicing the fruit and adds it to the blender. "I'm going to find you someone, I haven't given up yet."

You sit up, "Well, I'm giving up. Look Nat, you're an amazing friend and a completely bad ass spy and I love you to death but you are horrible at this whole match making thing."

"Just let me try one more time," she reaches across the counter and grabs your hand. "There's a new guy in-"

You cut her off, "Nat, I'm serious. You set me up with one more weirdo and I'm going to make sure the next mission I assign you to is in the Bermuda Triangle."

You walk quickly down the street, holding your thin jacket closed against the wind as the museum finally comes into view. Nat waves excitedly when she sees you, Bucky's metal arms possessively around her waist as always.

"Sorry, the last debrief took way longer than it should have. Lang was giving the overview of his mission yesterday in ridiculously specific detail," you hug Nat then Bucky. Laughing, you add, "He'd probably still be going on and on if Loki hadn't very strongly suggested he learn to summarize his thoughts before sharing them with everyone."

"Well I'm glad you were able to escape," Nat smiles and links arms with you, turning to walk up the steps.

"Hold up, we're still waiting on someone," Bucky says, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Who?" you raise an eyebrow and look suspiciously at Natasha. "You agreed, no more blind dates and you know I can't stand blind double dates, they're even worse."

She shrugs, "I didn't do anything, I have no idea what he's talking about. Who'd you invite Bucky?"

"Steve?" you guess.

"Oh, there he is," Bucky doesn't exactly answer your question as he looks past you down the street at the mystery person. You and Nat turn to see who he's looking at and your eyes widen in surprise. Loki looks left then right before quickly crossing the street against the light.

As he gets closer you can't help but think he looks amazing as always. He's wearing black dress pants, black dress shirt with the top two buttons open and a dark green pea coat which flows open around him as he walks. Loki raises his hand to wave at Bucky and you can see the surprise in his eyes when he spots you and Nat on the first few steps of the museum. Clearly he wasn't expecting to see anyone other than Bucky which is good, you think, that means this definitely isn't a surprise double date.

Loki smiles as he walks over to the three of you. "Sorry I'm late," he apologies, you and Nat rejoin Bucky on the sidewalk.

"Don't worry about it. I should be thanking you for getting me out of that debrief in the first place," you tell him.

He chuckles, "I did it for purely selfish reasons I assure you but I'm glad it worked out for you. I hadn't realize you and Natasha would be here as well."

"Hopefully that's not a bad thing," you smile, suddenly feeling a bit nervous as he takes a step closer to you. Bucky moves to put his arm around Natasha's waist but you barely notice. You're too busy trying to decide if this is the longest conversation you've ever had with the incredibly hot Asgardian outside of what you needed to discuss for work.

He smiles, his eyes focusing only on you, "I'm not disappointed."

"Good," you rub your hands together from the cold then joke, "We needed a fourth wheel. I'm a bit tired of being an awkward tricycle all the time."

Loki gives you a confused look but when Nat laughs he nods, understanding your meaning. "I know how you feel, I seem to be the third person in Thor and Jane's relationship quite a bit lately. I imagine they're excited to have a night out without me for a change."

"Well their loss is our gain, right?" you reply, your mouth moving faster than your brain. Loki smirks at you and you blow lightly into your hands, looking down in an attempt to pass off your blush for being cold.

When you look down, you miss the wink Bucky gives Natasha and her nodding in approval of his secret plan. "Now, can we please go in?" Nat asks, "It really is way too cold to keep standing out here."

Once inside, you immediately go to the hall to your right, wanting to see the new exhibit and Loki follows you. The two of you move to the first painting in the almost completely empty hall, unaware that Bucky and Nat haven't joined you. You begin to read the small metal information card next to the painting to yourself and Loki leans closer to read over your shoulder. Smiling when you feel him close, you read the rest of the brief description outloud as his eyes drift up to the large oil painting. When you finish, your attention shifts to the painting, enjoying the colors the artist used.

"Would you be interested in a fairly random fact about this piece of art?" Loki asks and you look up at him. You expect to see his signature smirk but instead he seems genuinely unsure of whether you're curious or not as he waits with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh, absolutely," you nod excitedly. "I honestly love random facts and weird trivia. Let's hear it."

He smiles, his posture becoming more relaxed as he tells you what he read about the painting years ago. You listen to him as you both move to the next painting where you once again you read the small card to Loki. After you finish, he describes the method the artist used to mix his paints to get all those different color variations.

At the third painting it's finally your turn to tell Loki something you learned about the painting. Unlike the prince's information which comes from art history books, your fact comes from someone you follow on TikTok but you aren't about to tell him that. When he doesn't respond right away, you immediately get a sinking feeling, filling with worry that you are actually wrong and now he thinks you're an idiot.

After a moment, he smiles. "I've never heard that before but it makes sense." You relax, walking to the next painting as Loki adds, "I have to tell you how nice it is to talk to someone who actually wants to have a conversion with me, especially about something like art. I honestly feel like most of the time, Thor invites me to go out with him and Jane because he thinks if he doesn't, I will just sit in my apartment alone all night."

"Would you?" you ask.

"Most likely yes, I don't enjoy going out alone," he answers. "But I'm perfectly fine sitting in my apartment and reading all night. That was my plan for tonight until I ran into Barnes right before our last meeting."

"So as far as you know then, this isn't a double date right?" you ask. "Nat's been setting me up a lot lately."

He shakes his head, "I honestly had no idea you or Natasha were going to be here. To be fair though, I didn't ask. Barnes said he had an extra ticket to the museum for tonight and told me to meet him here after work. I did think it was a little strange since we've never spent time together outside of missions." He chuckles lightly, "I just figured Thor told him to take me out so he could spend time with Jane."

"Oh, like it's Bucky's turn to babysit you?" you can't help but laugh.

He nods, "Something like that, yes."

You walk to the next painting, quickly falling into a comfortable pattern. You read the card that is placed next to the painting and then either you or Loki shares a fact you've learned about the artist, the subject matter or the style. You try to focus on the beautiful art in front of you but it's hard not to notice how Loki seems to stand a bit closer to you each time you move to a new paniting.

At the last painting in the wing, the back of his hand brushes against yours and you find yourself fighting the urge to thread your fingers between his as you listen to him tell you about the artist's failed attempt at making sculptures. You laugh, envisioning the clay collapsing in a heap around the artist the way Loki describes it.

"Would you like to see the next hall or do you need to find Natasha first?" he asks when you've contained your laughter.

Looking around, you realize for the first time that they aren't in this hall. You assumed they followed you but honestly you were so distracted by Loki you forgot to even check. He smiles, waiting patiently for an answer. "I'm sure they're fine without us," you tell him.

"I agree," he holds out his arm and you take it, blushing as he leads you to the next hall.

You giggle, covering your mouth as you look up at the first painting in the next hall. "Care to explain what's so funny darling?" he asks, your giggles cut short by the sudden use of the nickname.

"I just-" you clear your throat. "No, it's going to sound stupid."

"Tell me anyways," he insists, moving closer to you so his hand brushes against yours.

"Well..." you point to the couple sitting on the bench facing the lake with their arms around each other. "There's Nat and Bucky..." then you point to the woman sitting on the bench next to them. She's eating a sandwich that she very obviously stole from the couples picnic basket while they were distracted with each other, "There's me."

He laughs, "Ah yes, I see it!" You hit his arm playfully and he smirks, "You are much prettier then she is though."

Your face heats up and you barely manage to mumble, "Thanks," in response as Loki walks to the second painting, turning to make sure you follow.

Loki and you walk down the steps of the museum to meet Nat and Bucky about half an hour later. "I see the double date's going well," Nat jokes. "You two snuck off pretty quick," she winks at you.

"We didn't sneak off," you roll your eyes. "And we've already established that this isn't a double date, cause you said you weren't setting me up with people anymore."

"Fine, fine," she says as Bucky puts his hand on her lower back and you all start walking down the street.

"But, this is definitely the best 'not a double date' I've been on ever," you add and she smiles at you over her shoulder. You walk another block and shiver as you wait for the light to change, wishing you wore a warmer coat.

"Cold?" Loki asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

You fold your arms around your body tighter, nodding quickly. "I guess l grabbed the wrong jacket when I was leaving. I didn't think it was going to get this cold out."

"Here," he unbuttons his coat and you shake your head no. "Frost giants don't get cold," he insists as he takes his coat off. "I bought it cause I liked it, not because I need it."

"Well, it does look really good on you," you smile up at him as he puts it over your shoulders.

He smiles when you slip your arms into the sleeves. "I actually think it looks much better on you." You can barely keep from giggling as the blush creeps up your cheeks.

You laugh as you sit next to Loki at the restaurant, your knees touching lightly under the table when he leans closer to you. "Wait, do you ever sit between them when you see a movie?" you ask.

"I hate when you do that," Bucky says from across the table, his contribution to the conversation ignored by both you and Loki.

"No!" Loki laughs loudly, putting down his nearly empty drink as he looks at you. "Y/N, I must say, you truly are an evil genius. I'm absolutely doing that to Thor and Jane next time."

"Or you two could just go to a movie together," Nat suggests with a shrug. "You know, without other people? Like on a real date."

You smile at the thought of spending more time alone with Loki but before either of you can respond, the waitress walks over to your table with the bill. "I've got this," Loki says as he opens his wallet without looking at the bill sitting in front of him.

Bucky shakes his head, "You don't need to do that."

You joke, "Yeah, since this isn't a double date we should just split it." You reach for your bag but Loki waves over the waitress and hands her his credit card.

"Too late," he smiles when she walks away.

He leans back in his seat, his arm settling on the back of your chair. You shift a little closer to him and are pleasantly surprised when he moves his arm to rest across your shoulder. You look up to catch Nat smirking at you as Loki's fingertips trace circles on your upper arm slowly while he finishes his drink.

A few minutes later, the waitress hands Loki his card and the receipt. He takes his arm off of you to put the card back in his wallet and you grab his wrist lightly to stop him. "Wait, is that Tony's card?" you look at him in surprise.

He turns the card over as if he's never seen it before, "Oh, would you look at that?"

You laugh, "Loki!"

"What?" he grins as he puts it away. "Well, I think she deserves a pretty large tip, don't you?" He fills out the receipt and signs the bottom while Nat shakes her head but can't hide her smile.

"He's been looking for that for like a week," Nat says with an eye roll.

"That makes sense," he smirks as he gets up. "I needed to pick up a new series from the bookstore so I... borrowed it."

"Oh, what books did you get?" you ask as you slip on Loki's coat, you look up to catch him watching you with a smile.

"Don't encourage him," Bucky gets up and shrugs on his coat. "And borrowing it means you plan on returning it," he informs Loki.

"I'm going to," Loki responds and opens the door for everyone. "When I've finished using it."

You walk out first and wait for the others, "Do you think Tony would mind if we used it to get some ice cream?"

"I think I'll pass, I'm actually kind of tired," Bucky puts his hands in his pockets.

"Oh I forgot," you joke, "It's past your bedtime old man."

Nat laughs as Bucky folds his arms across his chest. "I'm not an old man," he says in a grumpy tone. "And if I was, that means your date is ancient."

"Okay, first off, this is not a double date and secondly... wait, how old are you?" you look up at Loki.

"1,054," he answers, chuckling lightly when your eyes widen. "But I'll live to be around 5,000 so technically I'm still quite young. Barnes however is older than the age an average human would live to."

Nat puts her arms around Bucky and kisses his cheek, "I'm gonna take my fossil home. You two enjoy ice cream in this freezing weather."

"I hate all of you," Bucky mumbles, turning with Nat to walk down the street.

"No you don't, you're just cranky cause you're tired," you giggle but your breath catches when Loki puts his arm around your waist.

"Ready for dessert?" he smiles and leads you in the opposite direction.

Your hand brushes against Loki's as you cross the street and he intertwines his fingers with yours. You smile and squeeze his hand lightly, continuing down the street in comfortable silence until you reach the Tower. The smiles vanishes from your face when he lets go of your hand but you lean into him when he puts his arm around your waist once inside the lobby.

He pushes the button for the elevator and says, "Thank you Y/N, this is the most fun I've had in months."

"I had a great time too, Loki. Shame it wasn't a double date, right?" you ask when the doors open and you both step inside.

He nods, "It would have been a perfect double date. But since it wasn't, can I take you out on a real date tomorrow night?"

You giggle, "Of course but not a double date."

"Just us," he agrees. After a moment he adds, "I'll admit, I'm looking forward to the end of our first date."

"How come?" you ask a bit confused.

He turns to face you, "Because I would really like to kiss you but I know on Midgard it's typical to wait until the end of a first date."

You look at him in disbelief but the elevator ding distracts you. You both get out and walk down the hall towards your room. "You know... we could just call tonight a date since it pretty much was one," you say as his fingers squeeze yours gently. "The museum, dinner, ice cream, lots of talking and laughing and-"

Loki cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours as you stand outside your apartment. You close your eyes and kiss him back, your hands moving to his lower back as he cups your cheek. When he pulls back he smiles and you say, "I'm assuming you agree tonight was a date then?"

He nods, "And now I'm looking forward to our second date greatly."

"Me too," you kiss his cheek lightly. "Have a goodnight Loki."

"This is your fault you know," Nat says to Bucky who's laying with his head on her lap while they watch TV.

"Goodnight Y/N," he turns and walks towards his apartment.

You watch until he turns a corner and as soon as he's out of sight, you walk quickly down the hall in the opposite direction. A few moments later you swing open the door to Nat's apartment without knocking.

"I know," he mumbles and turns off the show as you nudge him to sit up so there's space for you on the couch between them. "Tell us about your date, Y/N."

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[captain039]

The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, light corruption kink, reader in her 20s

Conventional Alpha can wait I need more Viktor 🤣

Dearest reader, with the city abuzz with the newest ladies heading into this year’s social season, I’d like to comment on some gracious progress from our beloved men of progress. Two men from very different lives now living in the grandest building in our lovely city, the councils palace, I do wonder though if this is indeed the year a particular man of science finally permits eager mamas and eager young ladies a chance to bask in his presence? or will our lovely city simply see him as different as always and therefore make his indifference scowl on his face as always? We shall see indeed.

There’s a rush of light behind your eyelids and a groan leaving your lips as your lady maid opens the curtains too early once again.

“Good morning my lady” Mercy greets you.

“Morning Mercy” you sigh finally opening your eyes.

“How did you sleep?” She asks smiling at you.

“Fine” you sigh again sitting up rubbing your eyes.

“Well then, let’s get you bathed and dressed, I’m sure my lady is excited for this years social season” she grins much more happy than you are about this years season. You managed to miss a few social seasons, begging and possibly bribing your papa into letting you miss a few years, of course he cannot handle his darling daughters puppy dog eyes which might you add have perfected, though your mama wasn’t as happy at his caving than you were.

“Ecstatic” you mumble.

The social season, a time for parading, fluttering your eyelashes and fanning yourself oh so elegantly so that you may attract a suitor, what a stupid game. Being raised as a fine young lady of society this is what you’ve been preparing for your whole life and yet you’d rather dive into the river off the bridge that divides Piltover and Zaun. You wonder if you could sneak over without a guard noticing, maybe flutter your eyelashes and show a little skin, gods, the thought makes you want to gag. The dress your mama had bought for you is elegant and silky in looks, the cream fabric letting off a shine. Mercy has pinned your hair up nicely with a few small gemmed flowers and applied a lovely shade of rouge even if you despise the feel of it. Problem is, you feel horrible. Out of place, like you’re about to burst from the corset you’re wearing, you fear, if your breasts were pushed any higher they may indeed fall out the top of this dress. You prefer more covering dresses ones that don’t leave you so exposed even if nothing is truely exposed according to society.

“Would you stop adjusting yourself?” Your mama huffs at you slapping your hand from your dress. You sigh and look out the window to the carriage instead. Your papa gives you a brief smile which you return before the carriage slows and the great council palace looms above you. You never understood this part of the social season, presenting yourself to the council, an odd thing really, but here you are with the numerous amount of other ladies attending. The wait is what makes your hands clam in your gloves, standing there waiting for a guardsman to call your name so you can walk in, let the whole of Piltover judge you along with the council and leave, stupid. The dresses really are pretty though, similar in cream colours with gold accents or silver accents depending on the ladies, some even adorning rose gold or a darker silver. Trims of all different types from lace, flowers, gems, sequins or mixes, a long trail of material behind to add to the flare. You should feel pretty, your mama only goes to the best modiste and a glorious modiste she is at that, your body is just… a little heavier than it ought to be according to your mama. While you do so love sweets you rarely eat them anymore, the looks stopping you, the shame. You can’t ponder too long as your name is called, your mother gives you a nod, tells you to smile before the grand doors open. It feels like a rush of air, all the people, the faces the imposing table of the grand council. You forget to breathe as you walk, daring not to make any noise besides the movement of your dress. You approach their table, stand in the middle, Council woman Mel Medarda, Council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Council woman Shoola, Councilman Irius Bolbok, Councilman Torman Hoskel, Councilman Salo and their newest edition Councilman Jayce Talis man of progress, gods how you wish the ground would swallow you. Mel Medarda is known in your family, a friend even, you hope, she sits at the head of the table, offers you a smile before all the council men bow their head in respects and tradition before you’re practically running out of that horrid place.

The first soirée of the evening and your mother is already pointing out suitable (rich) bachelors, no thought for your feelings on the gentlemen’s frankly. Your father manages to steal her away and talk to the Kirammans, your mother does love bragging about her estate and wealth to even wealthier people. You manage to sneak to the side lines, dodging through ladies fawning and gentlemen sizing up this year’s newest editions. You however need out and somewhere quiet on the side lines to drink this horrid punch. You knock into someone along the way hearing an unceremonious clatter dulled by the music thankfully but not the nearby patrons.

“I’m so sorry” you bend down ungracefully just as your mother taught to you not too and pick up the gentlemen’s cane before standing back up and freezing. Duke Viktor, a man of progress, well known in his science and all of Piltover.

“I’m so sorry, My Duke” you now your head respectfully holding out his cane.

“It’s quite alright” he says and something about his voice makes you shiver. He takes his cane with long slender fingers and places it in the crook of his arm. He dismisses whoever he was speaking to with a wave of his hand his honey eyes still on you.

“Why is a lady such as yourself running from such festivities of a grand soirée?” He asks his finger lifting your chin so you look at him.

“I uh-“ you gulp a bit looking at the drink in your hand instead which thankfully you didn’t spill.

“Viktor!” You jolt at the sound of a loud voice and see Councilman Talis walking over.

“Councilman” Duke Viktor says nodding his head.

“Please, Viktor I’ve told you not to call me that” Councilman Talis chuckles before his eyes land on you.

“Ah, a lady! I apologise I did not realise you were preoccupied” The councilman smirks and you hear the annoyed sigh Duke Viktor gives his mouth opening before you cut in.

“That’s- I accidentally ran into the Duke, there was no conversation- I was just leaving” you nod quickly.

“Uh, goodnight” you nod again and rush off heart pounding in your chest unaware of the intrigued eyes that follow you.

Next part ->

[azrielbrainrot]

In the Face of Your Love

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: A love confession wasn't in Azriel's plans for the day.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1,3k

Notes: In the face of writer's block I bring you another quick little story (that actually took me entirely too long to write). Hope you enjoy!

No matter how hard he tried Azriel couldn't remember the last time he had been in this situation. That's not to say he had never been confessed to before of course, that was far from the truth, but he didn't quite remember what to do in such a situation.

It didn't help that you were his friend, and because of it, someone he hadn't ever considered as anything more. If it were anyone else, he would probably be searching for the words to let them down as gently as possible, but looking into your expectant eyes, he can't help but wonder why exactly he had never thought about it before.

You were exceedingly beautiful and kind, remarkably intelligent and hard-working. You took care of your friends and helped them to the best of your abilities, always offering them a shoulder to cry on. Even though you weren't a fighter, Azriel was time and time again reminded of just how strong and fearless you were. You were perfect in his eyes, one of the best people he had ever gotten the pleasure of meeting in his centuries of life. He knew all of this as your friend, so how come he never looked deeper into the connection you shared?

Azriel knew it was partly, or mostly really, because of his lack of luck when it came to such things. Spending centuries in love with the same person, out of habit more than anything, pushing away everyone that threatened to make him feel anything of consequence gave him a long list of detachment issues unsurprisingly, and when he thought he could have something special with the middle Archeron sister after finally moving on from Mor only for it to blow up in his face before it even started, he was forced to take a good look at himself and his actions, and upon realizing that he was in no way ready for a relationship even though he felt desperate for it, Azriel came to conclusion that it was best to focus on his work and his friends, and leave such glittering dreams behind him.

That had been almost a decade ago, before he even met you. For the first time since then, he finds himself thinking of what it would be like to wake up next to someone, share his thoughts and dreams with that person, have someone to hold him through the hard times and take care of them in kind. For the first time in years, Azriel wonders if he could deserve someone's love after all.

His hesitation seems to start weighing on your excitement, pretty eyes moving to watch the ground as a heavy breath escapes you, not bearing the sight of his wide hazel eyes anymore. When you look up at him again a bitter smile is etched on your face, one that makes Azriel’s chest feel heavy and constricted.

“You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, it felt like it was eating me alive keeping it to myself.” The humorless laugh you let out brings a furrow to his brows, but you keep going before he finds the right words. “I hope I'm not making things weird between us, nothing really has to change-”

“Wait,” Azriel finds himself calling out when he notices you taking a step back, away from him.

Unfortunately he stays quiet a second too long after and you end up taking yet another step back, your next words even more heartbreaking than before. “It's okay, Az. You really don't have to comfort me.”

“I don't want to comfort you.”

“Oh.”

He grabs onto your arm gently when you go to turn around, intent on walking to the door this time, cursing himself when he notices the wetness gathering in your eyelids.

“Please don't go,” he begs, staring into your eyes, hoping his will show you a glimpse at all the emotions swirling around in his heart, maybe you could make better sense of them than him. “I'm not good with words and I'm even worse with my feelings, but I can try to explain myself if you just give me a moment. Please.”

“Alright.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body letting go of most of the tension as you watch him. He drops his hold on you and offers you a small, grateful smile.

“You caught me off guard, I never noticed your feelings for me weren't entirely platonic,” he starts carefully, eyes flickering down towards your hand, wondering for a moment if holding it in his would be too much, too unfair to you.

“Some Spymaster,” you tease him back, a breathy chuckle escaping him and releasing the tension from his body, his hand reaching down to hold yours.

“I gave up on love a long time ago, long before I met you. Things have never worked out for me, partly for my own faults, making me think I just wasn't meant for these things.” The frown that settles over your face makes his heart skip a beat. Cute, it was cute, adorable even. Gods, how had he been so blind? “So, you see, I never stopped to wonder if we could have a relationship beyond our friendship even though I cherish your presence in my life immensely.”

“And now?”

“Now I'm thinking back on all our time spent together, the times we laughed and cried together, the times you cared for me and I cared for you.” This time he's the one to move, except he's taking a step closer to you, the distance feeling too big now. “I'm wondering what it would be like to come home to you every day, to hold you in my arms at night, to take you to every restaurant and bakery shop you talked about, to hold your hand in mine whenever I want.” Azriel squeezes your hand softly, your smile widening at the gesture. His other hand reaches for your cheek, cupping it delicately before continuing in a hushed tone, “Now I'm thinking I really want to know what your lips taste like.”

“Az,” you breathe out, eyes falling on his lips. He leans down and pecks your cheek softly, taking a step back to look into your eyes.

“If you still mean what you said…”

“Of course I do.” It's your turn to squeeze his hand, tugging on it to pull him back closer to you, he finds it extremely hard to resist you, but he wants to do things right.

“Then I want to invite you for dinner tonight,” he says, a weight he didn't realize was there before lifting off his chest when you nod immediately. “I think we should take things slow, for both of our sakes, and I don't want to promise you anything, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I want to try. I want to know what it's like to feel loved and give it back in kind.”

Your face lights up, smiling up at him with an intensity that threatens to blind him. Familiar dark thoughts start swirling in his mind, telling him how he would only snuff it out of you, but he does his best to tamper them down.

Azriel knew he loved you, that much was never up for discussion, and when comparing the love he had for you to the love he held for his brothers or the rest of his family, he can only feel disbelief that he had never questioned it. He would never do anything to hurt you, he would give his life for you without question, and was ready to face his fears and faults head-on if it would make him worthy of being by your side.

“It's a date then?”

He smiles even wider, his face hurting with the unfamiliarity of it, bringing your interlocked hands up to his face and dropping a kiss on the back of your hand, heart fluttering in his chest.

“It's a date.”

[ellieslittleslutt]

‘𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!

cw: ellie gets in a small fight, kissing, gets close to smut but none really, my sad attempt to bring my motivation back.

a/n: highschool ellie is a massive loser prove me wrong i dare you.

wc - 1.6k

not proofread

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

it started with a punch. then another punch, and another, a boy pinned under ellie as she lands punches on him nose bloodied from him throwing the first punch. a teacher eventually got behind her pulling her off the poor kid while she kicked to get up. standing up she earns herself a firm tug on the wrist leaving a red mark and a hall pass to the principals office. scoffing she shoves it in her picket walking down the hall, tissue pressed to her nose she slumps down into the chair.

she was one of two people there the second being you. you were sitting back straight, hands in your lap looking around nervously. she didn’t know why you were here, you looked too nice to get in trouble.

she wiped some blood off her nose leaning forward “so what did you do?” she asked quietly so the principal won’t hear. you looked over at her a little shocked her was talking to you “me?” you ask caught off guard and she chuckles “no else here princess” she says leaning back. you nodded “was caught faking a signature to get out of PE… again.” she hums with a smile “well can’t say i haven’t ever tried to” she said.

you laughed softly with her before you get called in standing up you walk to the door and ellie gives you a thumbs up. rolling your eyes with a smile you push the door open sitting down in the chair.

after the principals long speak about, “faking signatures builds distrust” and blah blah blah. you weren’t listening you mainly were just picking at the laces on your shoes. you were finally excused getting up and leaving walking back out to her “you’re up.” you said patting her shoulder and she huffs out a laugh getting up “see you around” she grins disappearing behind the door.

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

you didn’t think you’d see her around anymore but one random tuesday in geography class, your teacher stood up letting a student in, one that’s too familiar. walking in was the girl from the hallway. making eye contact she smiles at you sending you a wink, “this is ellie she’s changing classes” huh, ellie.

the teacher gestures over to the seat beside you and she walks over to you a little to proud. plopoing down she looks over at you with that same grin “hey stranger, following me?” you ask with a smile tucking your hair back.

she shrugs folding her arms “possibly” she flashes you with that pretty smile again that made you wnat to melt. sitting through that class was torture, filled with sneaky glances and ellie checking you out when she thought you weren’t looking g (she’s all you could look at).

when the lunch bell rang you grabbed your bag getting up to go get lunch when ellie stops you grabbing your wrist “hey so, i think you’re pretty cool and if you would like you could come sit at lunch with me and my friends? they’re chill so don’t worry about them, it’s a pretty exclusive club” she smiles looking at you.

chuckling you tilt your head “yeah? only the coolest people can get i?” she nods giving you finger guns “you got it, but uh if you don’t have other people with sit with you can just come with me” she says holding out her arm bowing slightly. “laughing softly you hook your arm around hers letting her lead you to her friends “such a gentlemen” you tease.

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

walking out with her to the field she climbs up the bleachers to two other people. a tall black haired asian guy how looks just a bit older than you and had his arm wrapped around this other girl shorter and has a very sweet face.

trailing shaky behind ellie you smile at them politely when she introduces you. “be nice” she warns letting the girl walk up to you introducing herself as dina. she was very excited to meet you shaking your hand “it’s so nice to know that ellie is capable of making more friends” she laughs pulling you over to sit. “this is jesse my boyfriend don’t let his height intimidate you it’s so funny when he trips.”

you laugh and nod along with all she says not knowing how to reply before ellie comes back to you “alright d enough of stealing my friends” she says giving you a fake eye roll before sitting beside you.

you sat around with them laughing at all the stupid shit they did together and dina was right it was hilarious watching jesse’s lanky body trip on the field trying to run. the bell rings once more signaling the end of lunch and ellie looks back at you packing up.

“soo” she says her hand in her pockets “did we earn your time for lunch?” she says hopefully. slinging your bag over your shoulder you hummed “i think you three have” ellie’s face beams looking at you “so i’ll expect to see you tomorrow?” a smile plastered on her face and you need “until tomorrow williams.”

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

spending all your lunches with them you got closer with ellie. she would bring you a cookie everyday refusing to let you pay her back as her way of saying thank you for being friends with her.

today ellie suggested the idea of coming over to do homework for geography together, after some convincing and promises ellie will actually do her work you agree and she gave you her address.

walking up to her door it was a small house in a nice cozy neighborhood near some woods, you knock three times and you are greeted with a man standing in the door way. he had a frown on his face looking down at you. panicking internally thinking you had the wrong address you speak up “is ellie here?” you squeak and his face softens “oh you must be her new friend” she smiles and moves tit he side “i’m joel, she’s down in her room last door on the left, come to me if you need anything.” you nodded thanking him rushing to her room shutting her door looking at her wide eyed “you’d don’t tell me your dad is scary as fuck almost shit myself.”

rolling in her chair to look at you she corrects you “not my dad and he just has really bad resting bitch face” looking at her a bit confused when she corrects you about joel you shake it off “whatever just warn me next time” you huffed tossing your bag on her bed sitting down on it grabbing your books “go back to homework” you said pointing at her desk and she rima’s her eyes “fine mom” “that’s right.”

looking around her room it fit her well, perfect amount of loser with space and music posters on her wall, vinyls displayed on her wall with her comics and action figures. it was cute seeing her in her natural habitat, fitting in so well with one room.

you two ended up on the floor snacking on some chips while doing homework you glanced up to find ellie already looking at you with soft eyes. blushing you look back down at you book “you’re staring” you mumbled writing down some formula.

humming she reaches forward to brush some of your hair back “so what if i am?” she asks resting her hand on your cheek “you promised we could get this done” you mumbled getting a bit flustered when she tilts your head up to look at her. she leans forward slightly “this is way more fun” she hums pressing her lips to yours. shutting your eyes you lean forward on your elbows to get closer and kiss her more liking the way it felt.

you’ve kissed people before but mainly in stupid middle school games of spin the bottle and only with boys when you were pressured. it never felt right, but this was so right. sitting up you move to sit by her kissing her deeper your hand on her cheek while she takes lead wrapping her arms around you pulling you closer moving to kiss your cheek listening to your soft gasp.

“is this okay?” she whispers kissing down your neck and you eagerly nod “please” you whispered lifting you arms to let her take off your shirt going back to latching to your neck kissing the soft part of your jaw that made you shiver eliciting a soft moan from you.

getting up onto her bed she gets up ontop of you your arms wrapping your arms around her waist nervously fiddling. noticing these small habits she pulls away to loom at you “you okay?” she whispers kissing the corner of your mouth and you nodded “it’s just… you’re like really pretty and i don’t wnat to mess this up” you mumbled looking away.

moving your face to look back at her, her eyes are soft and reassuring “i’m here for anything alright? joel’s probably gone now so don’t worry about that and if you need me to stop or slow down say the words okay? i don’t wnat to hurt you” she was cupping your cheek using the other arms to hold herself up and you nodded letting her go back to kiss you.

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

lying in bed the sheets covered your chest head on hers. she played with your hair other hand holding you close. looking up at her you smile softly “hey” you whispered “hi” she smiled back brushing the hair form your face kissing your forehead. “you were amazing” she said softly “i’m proud of you” cuddling closer to her you hummed shutting your eyes taking a deep breath “you’re warm” you mumbled sleepy “i’ll be your personal heater” she chuckled wrapping the blankets around you tighter.

“you get sleepy after sex” she teased poking your side and you shoved her arm away “shut uppp” you groan nuzzling your head deeper in her neck. laughing her pets your hair letting you rest “sleep now baby… you deserve it”

──── ⋆⋅🍁⋅⋆ ────

[cockasinthebird]

“It’s prom, you have to go!” Steve demands with a smile, standing there with his arm thrown over Donna’s shoulders.

Billy scowls at him, then looks down at Stacy, who’s holding his hand near her heart, big eyes bursting with excitement at the prospect of going to prom with the keg king.

“Yeah Billy, come on,” Donna talks between blowing up her gum.

“Pretty please?” Stacy begs of him.

This is what the brochures in the counselor’s office means when they write about peer pressure.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” he throws out an excuse.

“You can borrow something from me, don’t worry about it, Hargrove.” Steve’s still smiling. He’s not personally invested in prom itself, but teasing and annoying Billy is too much fun.

Billy isn’t going to get out of this without a yes. “Fine.”

And Stacy bursts out in glee, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

After school Steve and Billy hang out at the Harrington mansion, with the blonde on the queen sized bed, lying down with his legs over the edge.

“Why does this matter so much to you?”

“It’s our final year in high school, I think we deserve a little fun!” Steve says with certain excitement.

“And prom, of all things, is your idea of fun?” Billy raises himself up on his elbows. “Can’t we just hang out by the quarry and get drunk or high, or both?”

“Look on the bright side, you’ll probably get lucky with Stacy after prom!”

“Harrington, I can get lucky with her anytime I want.”

Steve’s standing by the walk-in-closet, shuffling through his fancy clothes, when he pulls out a light blue suit. “Doesn’t mean you can’t put in a little effort from time to time. Here.”

Billy gets up and walks the short distance toward his best friend.

“This goes well with your eyes.”

Their fingers graze as the clothes exchange hands, and Steve is never going to get used to his heart leaping through his chest whenever they touch, but he doesn’t linger before letting go of the suit.

Yet he watches Billy, who either doesn’t know or doesn’t care, as he steps toward the mirror.

He pulls his white tee over his head of golden curls, and at the sight of his bare, toned top, Steve turns around at the speed of light to rummage around for another suit for himself. Still, he steals a few glances over his shoulder, catching Billy undress down to a pair of possibly too snug briefs.

“I don’t even know how to dance to that cheesy music they’ll be playing at prom,” Billy admits as he zips up the trousers.

The suit is a little long in the leg, but it looks good around his chest and broad shoulders.

“It’s super easy to do, don’t worry, just let the music do its thing.” Steve keeps his back turned, he already knows what to wear, but his attention on Billy might be too obvious if he just stares at him like he wants to.

“No, I mean, slow-dancing, I’ve never…”

At that the brunette turns around, looking at Hargrove quizzically. “You’ve never been to a dance before?”

Billy looks away in something akin to shame, worried about getting judged for his lack of romantic experience. It’s always just been about sex between him and girls, never anything like this.

“I can show you how,” Steve blurts out without much thought, but at least he sounded somewhat casual saying it, and not as if it’s a desperate move to get closer to Billy.

Who meets his gaze in the mirror before turning around. “Yeah?”

His voice softens Steve and he smiles kindly. “Yeah. Come here.”

He barely hesitates to help out a friend, walking closer and getting into position as the lead.

“I’ll show you how it’s done first, then you can take the lead after.”

“Alright Harrington, show me how it’s done,” Billy speaks with unintentional enthusiasm, breaking his role as the tough guy for just a mere moment, but Steve doesn’t comment on it, thankfully.

“Grab my hand, the other on my shoulder here,” Steve instructs with forced calm, his heart beating him senseless as they touch.

And when he places his hand on Billy’s back, he swears he can see his face change color.

“And then you just sway side to side.”

Billy’s looking at their feet, avoiding eye contact the best he can in case Harrington could read his racing mind. “Is that all?”

“Well, if you’re lucky, she’ll let you place your hand here…” Steve lets his hand slide down to the small of Billy’s back.

Steve feels like he’s going to combust, Billy feels like he’s going to melt.

“Then what?” 

Billy dares look up till their eyes meet, breaths intermingling, standing closer and closer together till there’s no more room between their bodies.

“Then… she’ll rest her head on your chest…”

Blue eyes fall down to stare at Steve’s chest, then slowly, Billy lowers his head to rest there, and he can hear how vigorously Steve’s heart is beating. He decides it probably doesn’t mean what he wants it to.

“What comes next?” Billy asks, maybe a little too hopeful, for next Steve lets go of him and steps away.

“O-oh, nothing much, maybe you’ll kiss or something, I don’t know.”

“Ah, well, that I know how to do.”

They both laugh, but it’s jarringly awkward.

They don’t talk about it after, but things get… tense. Not hostile or anything like how they were at first when they met, everything is just awkward from that point on, even their so-called girlfriends notice and ask them about it, but they’re evasive about those questions every time.

It’s not like they stop hanging out, or even do it less, there’s just a palpable distance between them now, sitting further apart, talking less; it’s all so stilted leading up to the prom.

Then the night comes, and they’re standing there by the punch bowl that hasn’t even been spiked, a little closer than what is normal lately, just not as close as they both want.

Donna and Stacy are out on the dancefloor together, dancing wildly to music that neither Steve nor Billy likes.

The two of them take turns glancing at each other, thinking they’re so secretive about it until they both turn their heads at the same time, and for a split second there’s so much unsaid between them suddenly becoming too much, and their eyes flee again.

“Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” comes on, and their girlfriends rush up to them to grab their hands and force them onto the dancefloor filled with couples.

And everything goes as Steve said it would; one hand on the small of her back, the other in her hand, her head on his chest, Billy feels like he’s doing exemplary, yet he doesn’t feel what he felt with Harrington.

He knows what it means, of course, has known for a while.

But he’s fine with living in denial, or he thought he was until he catches those brown doe eyes staring at him with an almost longing sense.

It’s as if Stacy notices something, and she looks up to catch Billy stare back at Steve.

Thankfully she seems oblivious and simply waves at the other couple, Donna waving back, and then the girls turn to face their boyfriends, who in turn look down at them.

Next lips meet, and for a brief moment Billy focuses only on Stacy, and Steve on Donna, but like magnets to metal, eyes meet again, growing intensity between them as they continue kissing their girls.

Steve’s gaze keeps switching between Hargrove’s crystal clear stare, and how his lips mingle with Stacy’s. The brunette doesn’t know how to feel, for there is so much jealousy in him, and yet… it is trumped by longing.

Longing to be in Stacy’s place, or for Billy to be in Donna’s. He almost forgets to kiss back, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care about it.

Then he does it.

The most bastardly thing he could. Billy brings his tongue into the kiss between himself and Stacy, perhaps a little too much, but fuck… Steve feels it in his gut, and even further down, twitching in his dick at the way Billy kisses so passionately.

He’s only ever heard great things about how Billy kisses, but this? This is the closest he’s been to experiencing it himself, and the temptation is almost too much. If he could have his way, he’d close the short distance between them, pull Billy off of his girlfriend and swallow his tongue himself.

Steve bets Billy tastes like cigarettes and punch, not a great mix no doubt, but he’d give the world for it right now. Their eyes remain locked, chained together, immovable, as Billy full on makes out with his dancing partner.

Although it feels like forever since the song began, it ends too soon, and Billy steps away from Stacy, both of them smiling all satisfied and with slight panting.

“Is something wrong, Steve?” Donna asks, looking all innocent and sweet.

He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I just think I had too much to drink, I’ll be back soon.” And before she can object he rushes out the room in the direction of the bathroom.

Steve’s in utter turmoil, pacing back and forth in the locker room of the gym where the prom is taking place. Flashes of Billy’s kisses ingrained in his mind, and if he closes his eyes hard enough, he can place himself there instead of Stacy.

The door creaks open, and Billy rushes in, looking somewhere between worried and determined, stopping just a few feet away from Harrington.

They stare at one another, waiting for words but there simply are none left, only action will do.

Meeting halfway their lips clash together, and it is pure perfection, tongue and teeth and a little too much force from unbridled passion that has been building up for who knows how long.

They stumble backwards until Steve’s back meets with the lockers, his hands running through Billy’s hair, whilst Hargrove himself feels every inch of Steve’s body, from his shoulders to his chest, his sides and hips, where he locks on with a vice grip and brings their bodies together.

“Billy…” Steve whispers, and Billy gives them both a few inches of space.

“Yeah?” He’s so breathless.

“I… I…” 

“Yeah.”

[onebadassunicorn]

Leather and Lace

pairing: Cassian x Reader

content warnings: stalking by ex, implied threats of violence (via letters), smut (18+)

word count: 8.3k

Taglist: Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

******

Chapter 3

Cassian POV

The stars shone brightly over Velaris as Cassian landed softly in front of Y/n’s townhouse, his boots crunching on the cobblestones as he folded his wings behind him. It had been three days—three long days—since he had last seen her, and the absence of her smile, her voice, and her presence had weighed on him more than he cared to admit.

He adjusted his shirt, a deep crimson tunic that hugged his broad chest, paired with his usual black pants and boots. He hadn’t made a fuss about his appearance in years but tonight felt different.

Tonight, he was bringing her to meet the people who mattered most to him—his family, the inner circle—and the thought made his chest tighten with something that felt suspiciously like nerves.

Raking a hand through his hair, Cassian stepped up to the door and knocked. He shifted on his feet as he waited, a mixture of excitement and anticipation coursing through him.

When the door opened, his breath caught in his throat.

She stood in the doorway, bathed in the warm light spilling from the house behind her. She wore a deep emerald gown that hugged her curves in all the right places, the fabric shimmering faintly as it caught the light. The neckline dipped tastefully, showing just enough skin to tease without revealing too much, and the cinched waist accentuated her hourglass figure perfectly.

Her dark hair was swept over one shoulder in soft waves, and her blue-gray eyes sparkled as they locked onto his. A faint blush colored her cheeks, whether from the cool evening air or his gaze, he wasn’t sure.

Gods.

Cassian’s thoughts stilled as he took her in.

She was stunning—more beautiful than he remembered, though he hadn’t thought that was possible.

His heart thudded in his chest, a mix of awe and something deeper, something he didn’t have words for yet.

“You look…” His voice faltered for a moment, his usual confidence slipping. “You look incredible, Y/n.”

Her blush deepened, and she smiled, her lips curving in that way that always made his chest tighten. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

He grinned, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “I had to, didn’t I? Big night and all.”

She stepped aside to let him in, and Cassian entered. He took a moment to breathe her in—the soft scent of jasmine that lingered in the air, the faint traces of her perfume—and felt a sense of calm settle over him.

As she closed the door behind him, Cassian couldn’t stop himself from watching her, his gaze tracing the lines of her face, the way the emerald fabric hugged her hips, the delicate curve of her neck. It wasn’t just her beauty that captivated him—it was the way she carried herself, the quiet confidence that radiated from her in every step, every glance.

How did I get so lucky?

He’d spent the last three days thinking of her more than he cared to admit.

And Gods, kissing her had him so tied up in knots.

He wanted more…so much more.

He wanted to watch her fall apart as she writhed beneath him.

He wanted to taste her on his tongue as she moaned and bucked against his face.

So much so, he finally had to take matters into his own hands last night and imagine what she would feel like wrapped around his cock while he stroked himself to his own little fantasy of her.

But he was taking this slow.

Doing things differently with her because he wanted her.

All of her.

Body, mind and soul. 

And her heart.

And now, standing here, seeing her in person again, he felt it all hit him at once.

And tonight, he was bringing her into the part of his life that mattered most—the family that had shaped him, stood by him, fought with him.

He wanted them to love her as much as he did.

Wait a minute…

As much as I do?

The thought hit him like a thunderclap, but he didn’t have time to unpack it.

“You ready?” he asked, extending his hand to her.

She nodded, slipping her hand into his. “Are you sure they’ll like me?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Cassian’s grip tightened on her hand, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “They’re going to love you,” he said firmly.

Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face before she smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Cassian.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Always,” he murmured.

As they stepped out into the cool evening air, Cassian couldn’t help but glance at her again, his chest swelling with pride and affection. He might have been a warrior, a general, a force to be reckoned with—but when it came to her, he was just a male who had found something he never thought he’d have: a future he wanted to fight for.

********

Cassian POV

The dining hall was already alive with laughter and conversation when they arrived. The inner circle was seated around the long table, but as soon as Y/n entered with Cassian by her side, the room fell silent.

Feyre was the first to rise, her violet eyes widening slightly as she took in Y/n’s grace and beauty. “You must be Y/n,” she said warmly, stepping forward to greet her. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she replied, her voice steady but tinged with humor.

“Only the best,” Feyre said, her smile widening as she glanced over at Cassian. “He hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

Cassian groaned softly, though his expression betrayed no embarrassment—only pride. “Don’t make me sound desperate,” he muttered, sliding his arm around Y/n’s waist and pulling her closer.

“You don’t need help sounding desperate,” Rhysand quipped from his seat, his lips curving into a smirk as he studied Y/n. His gaze was sharp, assessing, but not unkind. “Welcome to our home. You’ll have to forgive us if we stare—we’re not used to Cassian bringing someone so… extraordinary.”

“Careful, Rhys,” Feyre teased, nudging her mate as she returned to her seat. “Cassian might think you’re trying to steal her.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Cassian replied smoothly, his hand tightening on Y/n’s waist. She laughed softly, her nerves easing as she felt the warmth of his pride radiating off him.

Amren, seated near the end of the table, tilted her head as she studied Y/n. Her silver eyes gleamed with interest. “You’re a model, aren’t you?”

Y/n nodded, offering a small smile. “I am.”

Amren gave a slow, approving nod. “Figures. I’ve seen some of your work. Graceful, poised. Cassian’s lucky.”

“Don’t inflate his ego any more than it already is,” Azriel said dryly, though his lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile as he looked between Cassian and Y/n.

The others began introducing themselves, each one making Y/n feel more welcome with every passing moment. Nesta’s sharp blue eyes stayed narrowed as she exchanged a nod with Y/n, and Elain’s gentle smile was filled with genuine warmth. By the time everyone had greeted her, Y/n felt less like an outsider and more like someone they were eager to welcome into their world.

Except Nesta. She continued to stare at Y/n, her eyes narrowed.

As the dinner began, conversation flowed easily. Y/n found herself laughing at Mor’s playful jabs at Cassian, marveling at Feyre’s quick wit, and even sharing a quiet, thoughtful exchange with Azriel. Throughout it all, Cassian stayed close, his hand brushing hers under the table, his gaze flicking to her often as if to reassure himself she was really there.

When dessert was served, Mor leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, her golden hair catching the candlelight. “I have to say,” she began, glancing between Cassian and Y/n, “my Cupid skills are on point. You two make a gorgeous couple. I mean, can you imagine the babies?”

Y/n nearly choked on her wine, while Cassian barked out a laugh, his grin wide and unabashed. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not when I’m right,” Mor replied, her tone unapologetic as the table erupted into laughter. “Come on, look at you two. Gorgeous. I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t help but laugh along with them, glancing up at Cassian to find him already looking at her, his expression soft and full of something that made her chest tighten.

“You’re insufferable,” he told Mor, though there was no malice in his voice—only amusement and affection.

Nesta abruptly stood from the table and excused herself, leaving an awkward silence behind her, with Feyre trailing behind her to find out what was wrong.

********

Cassian POV

As the evening wound down, Cassian stood tall, his wings slightly spread as he led her from the dining hall. He couldn’t help but feel like a proud peacock, strutting beside her with his hand resting on her lower back. The way the others had welcomed her, the way they’d looked at her with admiration and respect, only solidified what he already knew—she was extraordinary.

And she was his.

As they stepped onto the balcony to catch a moment of quiet, Cassian turned to her, his grin softer now. “They love you,” he said, his voice low. “Not that I’m surprised.”

She smiled, her gray eyes meeting his. “They’re amazing. I can see why you call them your family.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his hands on her waist. “Thank you for coming tonight. It meant a lot.”

She reached up, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. “Thank you for inviting me. I… I feel lucky to be here. With you.”

Cassian’s heart tightened at her words, and as he pulled her closer, he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t just falling for her.

He was already hers.

********

Cassian’s POV

The cool night air on the balcony was refreshing after the warmth and laughter of the family dinner. The soft glow of Velaris below cast a romantic light over everything, but Cassian only had eyes for her. She leaned against the stone railing, her hair catching the moonlight, her eyes looking up at him with a quiet warmth that made his heart ache.

He stepped closer, resting a hand on her waist as he tilted his head. “So, when can I see you again?”

She sighed softly, her lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll be in the Autumn Court for the next week. We’re launching the new line there, so it’s going to be a bit hectic.”

“A week?” Cassian groaned, his hand tightening slightly on her waist as he gave her a dramatic pout. “You’re really going to make me wait that long?”

She laughed, the sound light and warm, as she reached up to cup his cheek. “I don’t want to be apart from you that long either,” she admitted, her voice soft and sincere. “But think of it this way—it’ll give us both something to look forward to.”

Cassian huffed, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re too practical for your own good.”

“And you’re too dramatic,” she teased, brushing her thumb lightly along his jawline. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He shook his head, leaning down until his forehead rested against hers. “A week still feels like a damn eternity.”

Her breath hitched slightly, her gaze locking with his. “Then make the most of tonight,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Cassian didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips found hers in a kiss that was soft at first, tender and lingering, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of her before she had to leave. But the softness didn’t last. His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him as the kiss deepened, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that matched the longing building inside him.

She responded just as fervently, her arms winding around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. She tilted her head, giving him better access as he kissed her like he couldn’t get enough, his other hand coming up to cradle her jaw. The cool night air brushed against their skin, but neither of them noticed, too lost in the warmth of each other.

When her back pressed against the stone railing, Cassian groaned softly, breaking the kiss for only a moment to murmur against her lips. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Her laugh was breathless, her hands sliding down to rest against his chest. “Good.”

He kissed her again, harder this time, pouring everything he felt into the contact. His hands roamed over her back, her sides, savoring the way her body fit so perfectly against his. She wasn’t fragile, wasn’t timid—she met his passion with her own, her lips and hands exploring him with just as much intensity.

“Y/n, baby” he murmured her name like a prayer, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. She shivered under his touch, her fingers tightening in his hair as she tilted her head to give him better access.

“Cassian,” she breathed, her voice trembling slightly.

Hearing his name on her lips, spoken like that, sent a rush of heat through him. He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers. “You’re going to ruin me, you know that?”

Her smile was soft but full of warmth. “Maybe we’ll ruin each other.”

He chuckled, leaning down to steal another kiss. “I could live with that.”

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as they stayed there, tangled in each other on the balcony, the stars above and the city below bearing witness to the quiet storm building between them. Cassian’s hands never strayed too far, never ventured where he was afraid she wasn’t ready for him to go, but the way her body molded to his, the way she kissed him like she didn’t want to let go, made it harder to pull away.

When she finally did, it was with a reluctant sigh. “I have to go,” she whispered, her hands still lingering on his chest.

Cassian groaned softly, pressing his forehead to hers one last time. “I’m going to count down the minutes until I see you again.”

She laughed, her smile tinged with sadness as she stepped back. “I’ll be counting too.”

He watched as she winnowed away, the shimmer of her departure leaving the balcony feeling empty. For a long moment, he stood there, staring at the spot where she’d been, before letting out a slow breath.

A week felt impossibly long, but he already knew it would be worth the wait.

********

Y/n POV

The golden leaves of the Autumn Court shimmered in the sunlight as you stood on the edge of the stage, supervising the final preparations for the upcoming show. The outdoor venue was breathtaking, with fiery foliage framing the elaborate runway. Models moved back and forth, adjusting to the space, while your assistant, Lila, worked beside you, ticking items off a checklist.

You tried to focus, to immerse yourself in the work, but your thoughts kept drifting to Cassian. You missed him more than you expected. His warmth, his strength, the way his presence seemed to anchor you—it all lingered in your mind like a comforting melody. You caught yourself smiling at the memory of your last night together, his lips on hers, his hands steady and protective.

You’ll see him soon enough, you reminded yourself, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, you returned to the inn where you were staying, a quaint building tucked away in the heart of the Autumn Court. It was charming, with its dark wood beams and crackling fireplace, but tonight, it felt colder somehow. There was an unease prickling at the back of your neck that you couldn’t quite place.

When you entered her room, the first thing you noticed was a folded piece of parchment resting on the small table by the window. Your brow furrowed as you picked it up, the faint scent of something acrid lingering on the paper. As you unfolded it, your stomach twisted into a knot.

Y/n,

I know what you’ve been doing.

I know you’ve been seeing him.

That Illyrian warrior.

But that can’t happen. You don’t belong to him.

You belong to me.

Don’t forget that.

Your breath caught, and the letter slipped from your fingers, fluttering to the floor. For a moment, all you could do was stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn’t seen—or thought of—your ex in years. He’d been possessive, controlling, and toxic in ways you’d worked hard to leave behind. You thought you’d escaped him.

But now he was here.

A cold chill washed over you as you realized what the letter meant—he was watching you. Your skin prickled with the sensation of unseen eyes, and suddenly, the cozy inn felt suffocating.

You scrambled out of your room and went to find Lila, your voice shaking as you explained what had happened. Lila, ever the steady one, calmed you down, promising to handle it.

********

Cassian POV

Lila didn’t waste time. She winnowed straight to Velaris and stormed into the House of Wind, where the inner circle had gathered for their usual evening meal. Mor, seated beside Feyre, immediately noticed Lila’s urgency and stood to greet her.

“Lila?” Mor asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/n,” Lila said breathlessly, holding up her phone. “She received a note—threatening, possessive. It’s from someone in her past, someone dangerous.”

Mor’s expression darkened, and she immediately turned toward Cassian, who had been lounging in his chair with a glass of wine. He stiffened at the mention of Y/n’s name, his sharp eyes locking on Lila.

“What happened?” he demanded, standing so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor.

Lila explained quickly, detailing the note, Y/n’s reaction, and the unease that had settled over the Autumn Court show.

“She’s scared,” Lila finished, her voice firm. “And she told me she wishes you were there.”

Cassian didn’t need to hear anything more. His jaw clenched, his wings flexing behind him as he turned to Rhysand. “I have to go.”

Rhys nodded, his expression serious. “Of course. Keep her safe, Cassian. Let us know if you need backup.”

Without another word, Cassian turned and headed for the door, his mind already racing with thoughts of Y/n.

Mor followed him, stopping him just before he could take off. “Cass,” she said softly, her eyes filled with both concern and encouragement. “She’s lucky to have you. Go make sure she knows it.”

He nodded, his expression softening briefly. “I will.”

********

Y/n POV

Hours later, there was a knock at your door. You froze, your heart racing as you stared at the wooden frame. Another knock, firm but not aggressive, jolted you into action. You tiptoed closer, your hand trembling as you reached for the doorknob.

“Y/n, baby, it’s me,” came Cassian’s familiar voice, low and steady.

Relief flooded you so quickly that your knees almost gave out. You rushed to the door, fumbling with the lock before swinging it open.

And there he was.

Cassian filled the doorway, his broad frame and dark wings silhouetted against the soft light of the hallway. His dark eyes scanned you immediately, taking in your pale face and the way your hands shook at your sides.

“Cassian,” you whispered, your voice breaking as relief and fear overwhelmed you.

Before you could say anything else, you rushed into his arms. He caught you easily, wrapping you in his strong embrace. You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as though he were the only solid thing in your world. His scent—leather, pine, and something uniquely him—calmed your frayed nerves as you trembled against him.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he stroked your back. “I’ve got you.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “What are you doing here?”

Cassian cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as he gazed down at you with fierce determination. “I heard my girl needs me,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “And what my girl wants, my girl gets.”

A sob-laugh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment as the tension began to melt away. “You shouldn’t have come all this way—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re scared, and I’m not going to sit around in Velaris while someone threatens you. You’re mine, baby. You don’t have to face this alone.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the sheer certainty in his voice wrapping around you like a shield. You opened your eyes, meeting his steady gaze, and nodded. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Always,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his arms. “Now tell me everything.”

********

Cassian POV

As Cassian listened to her recount the events surrounding the letter, along with past years spent with her ex and the abuse she experienced at his hands, a slow, simmering rage began to build in his chest. He held her close, his hands firm but gentle on her back, grounding her as she spoke.

But inside, a storm raged.

The thought of someone—anyone—threatening her made his blood boil. This wasn’t just some random admirer or a passing nuisance.

This was someone from her past, someone who thought they had a claim on her, who had dared to make her feel unsafe.

My girl, Cassian thought, the words echoing fiercely in his mind.

Because that was exactly what she was—his.

And no one, no one, was going to hurt her.

As her voice wavered, recounting the chilling words of the note, he tightened his hold on her, silently vowing to do whatever it took to protect her.

He’d tear apart the entire Autumn Court if he had to.

Whoever this bastard was, he wouldn’t get close to her.

Not while Cassian was around.

But beneath the anger, there was something else—something far more painful. Seeing her like this, her usual confidence replaced with fear, cut him deeper than any blade ever had. She was always so poised, so strong, and now she was trembling in his arms, her eyes wide and vulnerable. The sight of her like this broke something inside him.

“Baby,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion as he pulled back just enough to look at her. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. “You’re safe now. I swear to you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She nodded, but the lingering fear in her eyes made his chest tighten even more. He wanted to take that fear away, to erase it completely, but he knew words alone wouldn’t be enough.

Actions would.

And gods help the person who thought they could threaten her—because Cassian wouldn’t just stop them.

He’d destroy them.

As she leaned into his touch, her trust so evident, he felt something shift deep inside him. This wasn’t just about protecting someone he cared for; this was about protecting someone who had become essential to him.

She wasn’t just another beautiful woman who’d captured his attention. She was someone who had already carved a place in his heart, someone he was beginning to see as his future.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as he closed his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice steady and full of quiet determination. “You have my word.”

Her hands tightened on his shirt, her breath hitching slightly as she whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he promised, pulling her back into his arms, where she fit so perfectly, so naturally, that it only strengthened his resolve.

Cassian couldn’t stop the ache in his chest as he held her. Seeing her scared like this made him realize just how much he wanted to be the person she could always rely on, the one who would stand between her and the rest of the world if that’s what it took.

For her, he would do anything.

********

Y/n POV

The moon was high over the Autumn Court, its silvery glow spilling into the room where you and Cassian sat together. The night was quiet now, the earlier tension from the note having faded slightly with Cassian’s steady presence. He’d refused to leave your side, sitting close to you on the edge of the bed, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding you. You felt safe with him, safer than you’d ever felt with anyone before. And that safety, that warmth, made you feel brave enough to speak the truth that had been building inside you for days.

“Cassian,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shifted slightly, looking down at her, his dark eyes soft as they met hers. “What is it, baby?”

You hesitated for a moment, searching his face for any hint of doubt, but all you saw was the same unwavering strength and affection that had drawn you to him from the start. Taking a deep breath, you sat up straighter, turning to face him fully.

“I… I’ve been trying to find the right moment to say this, but there never seems to be one,” you began, your hands fidgeting slightly in your lap. “So I’m just going to say it.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, his focus entirely on you.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “Actually, no—I know I am.”

The words hung in the air between them, vulnerable and raw, and you held your breath, waiting for his response. But you didn’t have to wait long.

Cassian’s eyes widened briefly, and then his entire expression softened into something so tender it made your chest ache. He reached out, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks as he leaned in closer.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I’ve been falling for you since the moment I saw you. And every second I spend with you, I fall a little more. You’re… you’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his for any trace of hesitation, but there was none.

Only honesty, only love.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you smiled, and before you could respond, he kissed you.

It wasn’t like your earlier kisses, filled with playful heat or desperation. This one was slow, deep, and brimming with the weight of everything you’d both just confessed. His lips moved against yours with deliberate tenderness, his hands cradling your face as if you were something precious, irreplaceable.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up to rest against his broad chest before curling into the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the strength beneath your fingers, the steady rise and fall of his breath as he kissed you like he never wanted to stop.

“Say it again,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky plea.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your own shining with unshed tears. “I’m falling in love with you, Cassian,” you whispered. “I’m already there.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands sliding down to your waist as he pulled you closer. Your body fit against his as if it had been made for him, and when his hands roamed over your back, your hips, it sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Baby,” he breathed, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t just want you tonight. I want all of you—your heart, your dreams, your fears. Everything.”

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his sharp jawline as you smiled softly. “You already have it all.”

The words seemed to ignite something in him. Cassian’s hands moved to your hips, lifting you effortlessly to straddle his lap as he kissed you again, deeper this time.  He then stood up and wrapped your legs around his waist before turning around and laying you down on the bed gently as his wings flared slightly behind him. His dark eyes roamed over you as if memorizing every detail, and when you reached for him, pulling him down to you, he didn’t hesitate.

Your kisses grew more urgent, more heated, as your hands explored each other with a newfound intensity. Your fingers slipped beneath his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen, the smooth warmth of his skin. Cassian groaned softly at your touch, his lips leaving yours to trail down your neck, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there that made you gasp.

Your hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, and he pulled back just enough to yank it over his head, revealing the expanse of his sculpted chest and the faint scars that told a story of battles fought and won. You reached out, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as your gaze softened.

“Cassian,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I need you.”

********

Cassian POV

The words struck him like a lightning bolt, electrifying his veins. There was no mistaking the weight behind them, the unspoken plea laced within those four simple words. She wasn’t just asking for his presence or his comfort.

She was asking for him.

For the connection they shared so freely, so fiercely.

Cassian smiled, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down to kiss her again, his hands finding the zipper of her dress. “Let me show you just how much I love you.”

Slowly, almost reverently, Cassian began to undress her. His fingers traced the curve of her collarbone as he slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin. She shivered under his touch, her hands moving to undo the belt of his pants, her movements deliberate but unsteady.

When they were both bare, the air between them seemed to crackle with electricity. Cassian’s gaze swept over her, drinking in every detail and he leaned down to kiss her softly.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her lips, his voice reverent. “So damn beautiful. And you’re mine.”

She smiled softly, her hands reaching up to frame his face. “’I’m yours, and you're mine,” she replied, her tone filled with certainty.

He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the feel of her against him. His hands roamed her body, mapping every inch of her as though committing her to memory. When his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin between her thighs and found her clit, she gasped, her nails digging into his back.

He circled his thumb around her clit and dipped his fingers inside of her.

Fuck…she was already wet.

So wet.

“Damn baby, you are soaked. Is all of this for me?” he teased, as he pulled his fingers out and licked her arousal off them.

“Cassian,” she moaned, her pupils dilated as she watched him. “Please…”

Cassian didn’t need further prompting.

He dipped his head, his tongue tracing a slow, torturous path up her slit before he buried his face between her thighs. She gasped, arching into him as his tongue worked her open, lapping at her wetness with a greed that left her trembling. He groaned against her, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, you taste incredible,” Cassian murmured, his voice muffled against her pussy.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, every movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, building higher and higher with each passing second.

“Sweet,” Cassian murmured between kisses to her throbbing clit. “So fucking sweet.” He lapped at her greedily, his tongue circling her entrance before plunging inside, only to withdraw and repeat the motion again and again. “I could do this every day, baby. I’d live between your legs if you let me.”

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice hitching. “Please don’t stop.”

He continued to devour her with a fervor that left her gasping, his tongue exploring every inch of her pussy as if committing it to memory. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open for him as he feasted on her, his groans of pleasure mingling with hers.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice raw and commanding. “Let go, sweetheart. Let me feel you come on my tongue.”

She began to tremble, her legs shaking as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure ripping through her body as she screamed Cassian’s name, clutching at sheets for support.

Cassian pulled back, his lips glistening with her arousal. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument, his hands gentle but firm as he positioned her beneath him. Cassian kneeled between her legs, his cock heavy and throbbing as he stroked himself slowly, watching her with that predatory gleam in his eyes.

Cassian gripped her hips, lifting her slightly to align himself with her entrance.

“Ready for me, baby?” he asked, his voice thick with need. She nodded, biting her lip as he pushed forward, stretching her beautifully, filling her completely.

“Good girl,” he praised, as he leaned over and trailed his lips along her neck, kissing, biting and sucking the sensitive skin.

Her breath hitched as he pulled back from her and stared down at her, lost in her as he stilled and waited for her to adjust to his size.

”Fuck,” Cassian groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he bottomed out.

His breath caught as he looked down where his cock was joined to her pussy, his hands sliding down to cup her breasts before sliding back down to hold her waist.

“Gods, baby, your pussy feels so good. So tight around my cock,” he said, his voice was strained, almost reverent,

Y/n moaned as he began to move slowly. “So good, Cassian. You feel so good inside me.”

Cassian’s grip on her hips tightened, his pace quickening as her moans filled the room. Every thrust of his thick cock sent waves of ecstasy coursing through them both. His pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, mingling with the low, guttural groans that escaped his throat and the gasps and mewls that escaped hers.

Cassian’s wings flexed behind him, a testament to his own desperation as he drove deeper into her, his movements sharp and precise. “Come, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Scream for me.”

********

Y/n POV

You screamed at his command, your nails digging into Cassian’s shoulders as the pressure built inside you, threatening to unravel you completely.

He didn’t let up, not even when your body clamped down around his cock, your orgasm ripping through you with such force that you saw stars.

Cassian followed moments later, his own climax ripped from him as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips jerking uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “Take it all. Every drop.”

He spilled inside you, your name on his lips as he filled you up.

Gods, he had a filthy mouth.

And you loved every word that spilled out of it.

Cassian pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as he laid beside you and pulled you tightly into his arms. “I love you, baby” he whispered again, his voice filled with reverence. “Sleep now.  I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere.”

You smiled, your eyelids fluttering closed. “I love you too,” you murmured, already drifting toward sleep, feeling safe and secure in his arms as he held you all night.

********

Cassian POV

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom. Cassian stirred, his arm instinctively tightening around her waist as he pulled her closer. Her back was pressed against his chest, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. She was warm, her breathing soft and even, and he let out a contented sigh as he nuzzled into the curve of her neck.

For a moment, he stayed like that, savoring the quiet intimacy of the morning. Last night had been… everything. Better than anything he could have imagined. The way she had looked at him, touched him, trusted him—it was seared into his memory, a series of moments he would replay for the rest of his life.

He opened his eyes slightly, the golden light catching on the smooth curve of her bare shoulder. A lazy grin spread across his face as he pressed a soft kiss there, his fingers brushing gently against her skin.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

She stirred, a small, sleepy smile curving her lips as twisted in his arms so she was facing him. “Good morning, my love” she whispered, her voice thick with warmth and affection.

There was something about the way she said those words—my love—that sent a shiver down Cassian’s spine.

It felt like a promise, a declaration that went beyond the physical connection they had shared last night.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “I want to wake up like this every day,” he confessed, his voice a whisper.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. “Then why don’t we?” she teased, her fingers trailing down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“You look too comfortable,” Cassian teased, his grin widening as he tightened his hold on her. “Stay here with me.”

She laughed softly, the sound like music in the quiet room. “I can’t, Cass,” she said, her tone apologetic. “I have to get ready for the show.”

Cassian groaned dramatically, burying his face in her neck. “The show can wait,” he mumbled, his lips brushing against her skin. “I can’t.”

She laughed again, her gray eyes met his, sparkling with amusement. “You’re impossible,” she said, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair out of his face.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied, his grin turning mischievous.

Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw, her touch light and tender. “You’re very convincing,” she admitted, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Then stay,” he whispered against her mouth, his hand sliding to her waist. “One more hour. One more minute.”

She smiled, her forehead resting against his. “As tempting as that is, I really do have to go. The show starts in a few hours, and I can’t exactly roll onto the catwalk looking like this.”

Cassian pulled back slightly, his dark eyes raking over her with an exaggerated look of appreciation. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice teasing. “You look perfect to me.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said with a smirk, leaning in to kiss her again, this time deeper and slower, as if to prove his point.

For a moment, she let herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as his hand splayed across her back. But then she reluctantly pulled away, her breath uneven as she looked at him. “Cassian,” she said softly, her tone firm but affectionate. “I really do have to go.”

He sighed, his wings shifting behind him as he flopped onto his back dramatically. “Fine,” he said, his voice laced with mock defeat. “Go. Abandon me. Leave me to wallow in this big, empty bed all by myself.”

Y/n laughed, sitting up and leaning over him to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you at the show in a few hours,” she promised, sliding out of bed and reaching for her robe.

Cassian propped himself up on one elbow, watching her with a mixture of admiration and longing as she moved around the room. “You’re going to kill me, you know that?” he said, his tone light but filled with affection.

She glanced back at him, her eyes softening as she smiled. “You’ll survive,” she said playfully.

As she disappeared into the bathroom, Cassian let out a quiet sigh, his grin fading into a softer expression. He already missed her warmth beside him, but the thought of seeing her again later after the show—of holding her, of making her laugh—was enough to make him look forward to the rest of the day.

For now, though, he stayed in bed, the scent of her still lingering on the sheets, a reminder of the night before and everything they’d shared. And as the sunlight continued to fill the room, he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this content.

********

Cassian POV

The Autumn Court was alight with fiery colors as the show began. The venue, a grand open-air pavilion surrounded by trees cloaked in gold and crimson, shimmered with elegance. Cassian stood toward the back of the crowd, his wings tucked close and his posture casual, but his sharp eyes missed nothing.

The moment she stepped onto the runway, all thoughts of the letter, the potential threat lurking somewhere in the crowd, faded for a fleeting moment. She was stunning, her presence commanding every ounce of his attention. The burgundy and gold lace she wore clung to her curves like it had been crafted solely for her, accentuating everything about her that made his heart race. The way she walked—confident, poised, graceful—left him utterly mesmerized.

His chest swelled with pride as he watched her, the thought echoing in his mind: She’s mine.

And Gods, how lucky I am to call her that.

Y/n moved like she belonged on that stage, like she was the centerpiece of everything beautiful in the Autumn Court. Her eyes scanned the crowd, her smile poised, her every step measured and precise. She was radiant, and Cassian couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her.

But the smile didn’t last long.

Even as his heart filled with pride and love, a darker, protective edge simmered beneath the surface.

He hadn’t forgotten the note, the threat from her past. While the rest of the audience admired Y/n for her beauty and grace, Cassian’s gaze roved over the spectators with quiet intensity, looking for any sign of the bastard who had dared to claim she belonged to him.

His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, lingering on anyone who seemed too focused on her, anyone whose admiration felt too obsessive, too wrong. He noted every shift in the crowd, every flicker of movement, his warrior instincts on high alert.

A male near the front caught his eye—a sharp-dressed Autumn Court noble whose gaze lingered a little too long on her. Cassian’s jaw clenched, and his wings flexed slightly as he studied the male’s posture, his expression. But then the noble turned to speak to someone beside him, his focus breaking, and Cassian forced himself to relax.

But the thought lingered: If I find out who sent that note, they’re dead.

Cassian’s fingers curled into fists at his sides as his gaze swept over the crowd again. He wasn’t a violent man by nature—not outside the battlefield. But when it came to her, his protective instincts were sharper than they’d ever been. If anyone dared to harm her, to even think about hurting her, he’d end them.

Quickly.

Without hesitation.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, his gaze snapping back to Y/n as she turned at the end of the runway, her movements as fluid as water. His heart steadied as he watched her, a reminder of why he was here.

She’s safe right now.

You’re here.

Focus.

Still, as the show continued, Cassian didn’t let his guard down. His focus alternated between his goddess, and the crowd. He didn’t care that he wasn’t blending in with the well-dressed nobles around him. His dark armor and imposing wings marked him as an outsider, a protector.

Let them stare.

Let them wonder why he was there.

He was exactly where he needed to be.

When the final ensemble was revealed, Y/n stepped onto the stage again, this time in a masterpiece of gold and copper lace that seemed to shimmer like fire against her skin. The applause was thunderous, the crowd rising to its feet, but Cassian barely heard it.

All he saw was her.

As she reached the edge of the runway, her gray eyes briefly flicked toward the back of the crowd—toward him. Their gazes locked, and in that instant, the rest of the world disappeared. The faintest smile tugged at her lips, soft and private, and Cassian felt his heart clench.

She’s incredible.

And she’s mine.

As the show ended and the models began to disappear backstage, Cassian lingered near the edge of the pavilion. His focus sharpened once more as the crowd began to disperse, his eyes scanning for anyone who lingered too long, anyone who looked out of place.

But as the pavilion emptied, no one stood out.

No one reeked of danger.

It didn’t matter. Whoever had written that note, whoever thought they had a claim to Y/n—they wouldn’t touch her.

Not while he was here.

Not ever.

********

Cassian POV

Backstage, Cassian found Y/n in the dressing area, surrounded by assistants and designers who buzzed around her with congratulations. The moment she saw him, her face lit up, the tension of the last few days melting away as she stepped toward him.

He didn’t wait.

Closing the distance between them in two long strides, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him and kissed her fiercely, reminding himself that she was safe.

She melted into him, her hands resting against his chest as she looked up at him with a soft, teasing smile.

“What did you think?” she asked, her voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Cassian cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as he smiled down at her. “You were… breathtaking,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn’t look away. “Thank you for being here,” she murmured.

“Always,” he replied, his gaze darkening slightly as he added, “And don’t worry—I was watching. If anyone tries to hurt you baby, they’ll have to go through me first.”

She smiled, leaning into his touch. “I feel safe with you, Cassian. Always.”

********

Y/n POV

The crisp breeze of Velaris swept through your hair as you strolled through the bustling market. It had been a peaceful few days back home. Cassian had returned to work, resuming his training with Nesta and the Valkyries and duties with Rhysand, but every night, he came to your townhouse without fail. Your evenings had become a routine of intimacy and comfort—shared dinners, quiet conversation, and nights of passion that left you tangled together until exhaustion claimed you both.

You had never been happier. Cassian’s presence had become a steady, grounding force in your life. But today, as you browsed the stalls for fresh flowers and fruit, a lingering unease prickled at the back of your mind. You shook it off, telling yourself it was nothing. Velaris was safe. Cassian had assured you of that, and you believed him.

Still, you weren’t prepared for the male who bumped into you as you exited a stall.

“Excuse me,” you said instinctively, stepping back. But the male didn’t respond. He simply shoved a folded piece of parchment into your hand before vanishing into the crowd.

Your heart sank, your stomach twisting as you unfolded the note, your hands trembling.

Y/n,

I see you. I know he’s been staying at your place. You think you can hide this from me?

You have one chance to end this. Tell him to leave, or I will make him leave.

And you know what that means.

Make the right choice before it’s too late.

The words blurred as tears filled your eyes. Your chest tightened, panic clawing at you as you clutched the note. You could hear the crowd bustling around you, but it all felt distant, muted.

He knows where I live.

He knows about Cassian.

He’ll hurt him.

Your legs felt weak as you stumbled away from the stall, the parchment crumpled in your fist. Somehow, you managed to get home, but the moment the door closed behind you, your composure shattered. The weight of the threat bore down on you, and you sank to your knees in the middle of the living room, sobs racking your body.

You thought you’d escaped your ex. Thought you were free of his possessive grip. But now, not only was he back, but he was threatening the one person who had given you hope, who had shown you what love could truly feel like.

The thought of anything happening to Cassian was unbearable.

You couldn’t lose him.

Not now.

Not ever.

Crawling to the bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed, curling into a ball as the tears kept coming.

You clutched a pillow to your chest, your mind spiraling with fear and helplessness.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Runaway Kidnapping - Part 01: Murder Plot

-> Pairing: Non-Idol!Min Yoongi x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader

-> Synopsis: The night before her wedding, Y/N overhears her fiancée and his assistant talk about a plot to have her killed 6 months after the wedding. This opens the door wide to all the secrets and schemes her fiancée and his family have been keeping and planning the whole time of their relationship. It also leads to her re-connecting with her ex-boyfriend, Min Yoongi as they end up on the run together.

-> Warnings: Mentions of murder, murder made to look like suicide, mentions of fake kidnapping. Let me know if I've forgotten anything.

-> Word Count: 3,551

-> Taglist: Open. Leave a comment on this post, send an ask or fill out my Tag List Form.

Runaway Kidnapping Masterlist

As Y/N approaches her fiancée, Ji-ho's office, she notices the door slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the dimly lit office space. He messaged her earlier saying he wouldn’t be finishing work until late. Since it’s the night before their wedding, she decided to surprise him, picking up his favourite takeaway food on the way to his office knowing he probably hasn't have eaten yet.  

Just as she reaches to push the door open, but she stops herself, her hand hovering mid-air as she overhears Ji-ho and his assistant, Su-mi talking.   

“I wish we didn’t have to wait six months,” Ji-ho expresses, his voice tinged with frustration. “If only my father wasn’t so stubborn.”   

“I understand, sweetheart, but I’m sure the next six months will fly by smoothly,” Su-mi reassures him, her tone soothing yet laced with an undertone of excitement and malice. “Y/N's not the type to stir trouble; she’s too weak and timid. Plus, think about the money - 5 million won just for being married for half a year.”   

Y/N feels her heart shatter as the realization dawns on her. The last two years have been nothing but a facade, a mere arrangement for her soon-to-be husband to claim 5 million won from his father. Memories of their laughter, the sweet moments they shared, and the promises whispered in the dark come crashing down around her like shattered glass. 

Su-mi’s laughter floats through the door, light and carefree, a stark contrast to the heaviness in Y/N’s heart. “Once the money is in your hands, you can finally escape your father’s expectations. We can quit this place and go somewhere else.” 

She takes a few steps back, her breath hitching in her throat. Her hands ball into fists at her sides, a mix of anger and sadness churning within her as she realizes her relationship was tainted with a hidden agenda. The image of Ji-ho, the man that she loves and thought she knew, is now a total stranger to her. 

“We just need to ensure he never finds out that her death is pre-meditated,” she hears Ji-ho say, his tone non-chalant, causing her to jerk her head toward the door, her eyes wide with shock. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Su-mi replies confidently. “We just have to inform my contact whether to stage it as a suicide or an accident.”  

“Suicide,” he responds without hesitation. It’s as though he’s thought about it a lot. “If there’s a suicide note, there won’t be an investigation. An accident, however, will lead to a deeper inquiry.”  

Y/N can hardly process what she’s hearing. Tears well up in her eyes as she listens to the chilling conversation between her fiancé and his assistant. As fear for her life sets in, she retreats further, quietly slipping out of the building, making sure not to be heard.   

As she exits the building the cool night air hits her face, her first instinct is to run, to get as far away from Ji-ho and Su-mi and their schemes as soon as possible. But with her wedding tomorrow and the length Ji-ho is willing to go to for money, she knows that running away isn't enough. As she continues to think about what to do, her mind flashes to the one person she swore she'd never contact again, the only person that will be able to help her out of all this, Min Yoongi. 

With trembling hands, she abandons the bag of food and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She opens her contacts and scrolls through the numbers. She hesitates when she finds his name, her thumb hovering over the contact she should have deleted four years ago.  

Will he even answer?  

Does he still have her number?  

Did he block her like she should have blocked him?  

Does he even still have the same phone number? 

She gazes up at the building, her fiancée's and his assistant's words echoing in her mind. The towering building above her, makes her feel small and insignificant, reminding her how much higher up Ji-ho is compared to her. The son of a successful businessman and community leader vs. a kindergarten teacher with almost nothing to her name.  

Her attention shifts back to her phone as she presses the call button, her heart racing as she brings it to her ear, hoping for a lifeline.  

Time seems to slow down as she waits for him to answer his phone. She lifts her hand to her mouth as she starts biting her thumbnail, a habit she thought she had outgrown.  

She's about to give up when the call finally connects, and Yoongi’s deep familiar voice comes through the phone. "Hello?" 

"Yoongi," Y/N replies, her voice shaky and her hands trembling, the weight of her emotions spilling over. 

There’s a long silence on the other end, and for a moment, she worries he might hang up. But then, with a tone full of concern, he asks, “Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know what to do, Yoongi,” she whispers, her eyes darting around the almost empty street, remaining vigilant in case the two plotting her murder appear from the building. “I’m scared. I need your help.” 

“Where are you?” he inquires without missing a beat. She tells him her location. “Don’t move, okay? I’m on my way,” he assures her before ending the call. 

Clutching her phone tightly, she searches for a spot to sit where she won’t be seen by anyone leaving the office building. She finds a small bench tucked away in a corner, half-hidden by a cluster of bushes and sits down. 

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours as she waits. Finally, she spots a familiar car pulling up to the curb, and Yoongi steps out. His expression shifts from confusion to alarm as he sees her state. Without a word, he hurries over and wraps his arms around her, offering a sense of security she hasn’t felt in years.  

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, guiding her to the car. Once they’re inside, he locks the doors and turns to her, his eyes filled with concern. “Tell me everything.”  

She takes a deep breath, her voice shaky as she recounts the horrifying conversation she overheard. Yoongi listens intently, his jaw tightening with every word. He makes a move to get out of the car, but she stops him. “He doesn’t know that I know. It’ll make things worse if you go in there. I think I should go to the police.”  

“Do you have evidence?” he asks. “Because they won’t listen unless you have something. If you don’t, it’s just your word against his and guess who they’ll believe.”  

“I can get evidence,” she tells him.  

Yoongi looks at her with a mix of concern and confusion. “Evidence? How are you going to get that?”  

She takes a deep breath, her mind racing through different possibilities. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I can record a conversation or find some documents.”  

He nods slowly, considering her words. “They’re planning to have you killed, Y/N, who knows what else they're capable of," He says, echoing her thoughts from before. "You can’t just walk back in there and start digging around. Who knows what they’ll do to you if they catch you snooping around.” 

It’s then she gets an idea. “Do you still do what you do?” she asks, remembering his job of getting paid to do things like find people, cause a scene in public, and pretty much anything that doesn’t involve kids, sex and murder.  

“I haven’t changed much in four years,” he says, confirming he’s still in the business. “I do have two employees now though.”  

“Kidnap me from my wedding,” she suggests, causing him to look at her shocked. “I have money. I can pay you.”  

Yoongi blinks, processing her words. "Kidnap you? From your wedding?" he repeats, his voice filled with disbelief.   

“Yes,” she asserts, her determination growing stronger.  

“Okay,” he nods agreeing to the plan and starts forming a plan in his head, not needing much convincing. “Message me all the details and I’ll work something out.”  

“Thank you,” she smiles sadly, thinking about how her life has come to this.   

“Do you want me to take you home?” Yoongi asks her, as he starts his car.   

“I don’t think I can go home,” she sighs, she already shares an apartment with Ji-ho. They decided to move in together before the wedding, so they didn’t have to worry about it afterwards. “Ji-ho and I already live together,” she tells him. “All my stuff is there but I don’t think I can go back now that I know what they’re planning.” 

“Is there another place you can go?” he asks. 

“Taehyung. You can take me to Taehyung’s,” she replies, mentioning her younger brother and relays his address to him.  

As Yoongi drives toward Taehyung’s home, nothing more is said. The silence is heavy but not uncomfortable. It’s more like a mutual understanding filled with unspoken thoughts and memories of their past. The fear of bringing up old feelings keeps them from talking. Yet, Y/N can’t help but admire her ex-boyfriend, her heart fluttering slightly as she takes him in. He hasn’t changed all that much. The only difference being that his hair is longer now, cascading in soft waves that frame his face and his face looks leaner. Other than that, he still resembles the same Yoongi she fell in love with all those years ago. 

Arriving at Taehyung’s apartment building, Yoongi parks the car and turns to look at her, his expression serious. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here?” he asks, his brow slightly furrowed in concern for his former love. 

She pauses briefly before responding, “I’ll feel better once this is all behind me.”   

“Send me a list of your things,” he instructs her, his tone firm yet gentle.  

“Why?” she asks, puzzled.  

“Just trust me on this,” he replies, keeping it vague, a hint of determination in his voice that makes her heart flutter with a mix of anxiety and hope.  

She agrees with a nod. 

“Don’t stress about anything, okay?” he tries to comfort her, his voice softening. “I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly. Just try to get some rest.” She can see the sincerity in his eyes and for a second she can see a flicker of the boy she once knew so well.  

“Thank you, Yoongi,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. As she reaches for the car door handle, he stops her. 

“If you tell Taehyung what’s going on, make sure he doesn’t tell anyone else. The less people that know, the better,” he advises her, knowing how close her and Taehyung are.  

With a reluctant sigh, she agrees and exits the car. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she grips her phone tightly, as if it could ground her against the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She turns her head, sparing one last look at Yoongi. His eyes are intense and filled with an emotion she can’t quite decipher. She offers him a small, grateful smile before turning on her heel and walking towards her brother’s apartment building. 

After pressing the number to her brother’s floor, the elevator doors open, and she steps inside. Distracting herself, she starts typing on her phone a list of her more sentimental belongings, the ones she can’t live without as well as the details for her wedding tomorrow.   

When the elevator finally dings, signalling her arrival, she steps out and makes her way to Taehyung’s door. As she reaches her door, she hits send, sending the message to Yoongi before she raises her hand to knock on the door.  

The door swings open after a few seconds, and she’s met with Taehyung whose smiley face turns into one of concern when he sees her. 

“Noona, what are you doing here so late?” he asks, stepping aside to let her in. “Is everything okay?” 

She offers him a faint smile, attempting to hide the chaos within her. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning. For now, can I stay here for the night?”  

“Sure,” he replies, understanding that it’s best not to press her for details right now. “You can take my bed. Jungkook’s out for the night, so I’ll see if I can crash in his room.” 

Y/N hugs him, before making her way to into his bedroom. Y/N wraps her arms around him in gratitude before heading to her brother’s bedroom. As she lies down, fatigue finally catches up with her, but sleep eludes her as her mind races with what's happened within the past hour—her relationship was merely a scheme for someone for her already rich fiancee to become richer, a crafted murder plot since divorce isn’t an option and reconnecting with her ex, only to ask him to kidnap her from her wedding. 

With a heavy sigh, she tries to quiet her mind and reaches for her phone. Her fingers hover over the screen, tempted to call Yoongi but ultimately decides against it. Instead, she texts Ji-ho: “Staying with Tae tonight. I'll see you at the wedding hall in the morning.” When she gets no reply, she isn't surprised. She wasn't expecting him too.   

Eventually, her weariness takes over, and she drifts into a restless sleep. 

As soon as Yoongi receives Y/N's message, he quickly finds her address and drives over to the apartment building. Once inside, he makes his way through the dimly lit hallway. Finally, he reaches her apartment, and a sense of determination washes over him. Figuring out the door code feels like a small triumph, sending a surge of excitement through him as he puts on a face mask and pushes the door open and steps inside. 

Upon entering, he’s taken aback by how empty and cold it feels. It lacks any personal touches or decorations. It feels sterile. He looks around at the minimal furnishing - A small coffee table sits in the middle of the living room, a lonely remote resting on top, a couch that appears untouched, a potted plant in the corner that seems to be struggling to survive. Looking at the kitchen, it’s just as bare, with only the necessities in sight. 

He begins to reminisce about the cramped, shabby apartment he once shared with Y/N. Despite its imperfections, she filled it with warmth and comfort, decorating the walls with photos of their adventures, friends, and family. There were books stacked haphazardly, each one a testament to love for stories, fictional or true. Plants thrived in every corner. And then there was the record player, a cherished relic handed down from her father, that always filled the air with music, creating a soundtrack to their lives together. He can almost hear the laughter that used to echo off the walls and the late-night conversations that stretched into the morning. 

But this apartment wasn’t like Y/N at all. It was the complete opposite. 

Yoongi takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the nostalgic feeling. He steps further inside scanning the room for security cameras, He finds one in the corner of the room and disables it before moving on to the first room he comes across.  Inside the room is a desk and computer with some shelves to the side. It has more of a personal touch than the living room. He quickly finds the camera in there and disables that one too. 

Realizing he can't tackle what he’s about to do alone, he quickly sends the address and access code for the apartment to Kim Seokjin, better known as Jin, his business partner. Within seconds, Jin is calling him.  

"What's up with the address?" Jin inquires as soon as Yoongi picks up.  

"Hyung, I need you and Namjoon to get here as fast as you can," Yoongi tells him, his voice quiet like he’s afraid someone is going to hear him. "I'll fill you in when you arrive."  

"We'll be there in 10," Jin replies without hesitation, Namjoon already being with him and hangs up.  

Yoongi then contacts a guy he messaged after dropping Y/N off at Taehyung's place, asking him to keep an eye on Ji-ho's office building in case he leaves before Yoongi can finish up at the apartment.  

When the guy messages him back saying Ji-ho hasn’t left yet, Yoongi walks over to the desk, and with gloved hands he begins to search through the desk drawers for anything that might help with Y/N’s situation. He soon discovers a key ring with three keys and slips it into his pocket.  

Before long, the sound of the front door opening and closing announces Jin and Namjoon's arrival. He steps out of the office to greet them in the living room.  

"What’s going on, Hyung?" Namjoon asks, his voice serious and low. 

Yoongi forwards Y/N’s message to them. "That’s a list of stuff we’re here for, let’s get it, trash the place and get out of here,” he tells them. “I’ll explain everything else when we’re done,” he promises them before remembering to tell them, “There’s cameras so wear a mask and keep quiet.” 

Without wasting any time, the three of them split up to search different areas of the apartment. Yoongi finds a couple empty boxes in the storage cupboard, and they start putting everything they came to get into them. Jin heads to the kitchen, grabbing everything from there, Namjoon starts combing through the living room, while Yoongi takes the bedroom.  

Yoongi then heads back to the home office and continues his search for stuff there, his eyes land on a locked drawer. He tries a few keys from the keyring he found earlier, and with a satisfying click, the drawer opens. Looking inside he finds an envelope with a few files. He goes through the files finding exactly what he hoped they would be. He places them on the desk and pulls out the envelope. He opens it and finds money, a whole lot of it. 

“Pabo,” he scoffs at Ji-ho's stupidity, closing the envelope. “I’ll take that as payment,” he adds as he pockets the cash inside his coat before grabbing the files and leaving the room. 

Once they were all done, they trashed the apartment to look like a robbery. They were just about finished when Yoongi’s watchman texted him to tell him Ji-ho was leaving the office. The managed to disappear from the apartment before Ji-ho arrived. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Jin asks Yoongi after they get back to their so-called headquarters that's just a rundown apartment in a building that is set to be demolished in a few months and doubles as where Yoongi resides.  

Yoongi gives him a blank stare, having anticipated this reaction from his best friend. 

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice Y/N in those photos? What’s going on, Yoongi?" Jin continues to press him. "And don’t tell me you’ll tell me later. I want to hear it now.”  

“She’s hired me to kidnap her from her wedding tomorrow?” Yoongi reveals to the two men.   

 Jin stares at him in shock, trying to process what he just heard. “Can you repeat that?” 

“Y/N wants me to kidnap her from her wedding,” Yoongi repeats himself. 

“Who’s Y/N?” Namjoon chimes in confused, while Jin looks at Yoongi in disbelief, momentarily speechless. Kim Namjoon joined them after Yoongi and Y/N’s relationship ended, so he never had the chance to meet and get to know her.  

Jin turns to Namjoon, his expression morphing into exasperation directed towards Yoongi. “Oh right, you don't know who Y/N is? She’s only the most amazing person Yoongi ever dated!" he stops pausing for a moment as he thinks of something and then continues, "In fact she's the only person Yoongi has ever dated for more than a week. They were childhood sweethearts and practically inseparable until… well, things went to shit.” He glances back at Yoongi, searching for any sign of regret or longing, but finds only a stoic facade. "I'm pretty sure he's still in love with her." 

Yoongi's stoic look turns into a glare. “This isn’t about rekindling my relationship with her. She’s in trouble, and I’m just trying to help her out," he snaps, his voice low and edged with irritation.  

“Then explain to us what's going on so we can help you,” Jin urges, attempting to ease the tension. “And her,” he quickly adds, reminding Yoongi that he still cares for her too. During their relationship Jin was always like a big brother to her. 

"Fine,” he relents, his voice dropping as he calms himself down. “Y/N is getting married tomorrow to someone who plans to murder her in 6 months. Her fiancee seems to have a deal with his father that if he gets married, stays married for six months he gets 5 million won." 

"Why not just divorce her?" Namjoon asks.  

"Maybe its null and void if he gets divorced," Yoongi shrugs. "I'm hoping it's all in here," he says holding up the file he stole from the drawer along with the money. 

"So, what's plan?" Jin asks, his anger bubbling to the surface.  

Yoongi smirks and starts telling them everything he has planned. 

©️2025 dancinglikebutterflywings - Do not copy. modify and/or repost anywhere.

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[wwestrang-fan]

Something different pt 4

jey uso x oc reader

warning : a little bit of angst insecurity bit of age gap scars

author's note : Ginger: Saluki Dumpling: Great Dane Dolly: Afghan Hound

Jey settled in his set on the airplane he took out his phone and texted Lola

Jey settled into his seat on the airplane, feeling the rhythmic hum of the engines surround him as he fastened his seatbelt. He took out his phone, navigating to his contacts, and found Lola’s name. With a few taps on the screen, he texted her:

"Hey, just boarded. Thinking about you. Wish you were here. How’s everything?"

He leaned back, watching as the airport terminal began to fade, hopeful for her response while his thoughts drifted to their last conversation. Just then, his phone buzzed, and he quickly glanced at the screen, a smile spreading across his face when he saw Lola's reply:

"Hey! Everything is good. Just the usual—work, gym, and trying to find time to relax. How about you?"

Jey couldn't help but respond with enthusiasm. He typed back. "Glad to hear! I just finished a long day, and now I’m off to Philadelphia."

He hit send and waited, excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of possibly seeing her soon. Lola replied almost immediately

"Wait, what? I live in Philly you better let me know when you land!"

Jey's smile grew. "Are you serious? I didn’t even know that’s amazing" he typed back. "What are you up to these days? We should definitely meet up"

As he sent the message, the plane accelerated down the runway, lifting off into the open sky. He felt a sense of exhilaration at the thought of reconnecting with Lola.

After a brief moment, he saw the three little dots indicating that she was typing. His heart raced as he imagined the possibilities of their reunion.

Finally, her message came through,"I’m just finishing up work for the week, but I’m free this weekend do you have time to catch up?"

Jey quickly responded, "Absolutely I land around three. I'll come get you and we could grab dinner.

Lola replied, " that sounds perfect I can’t wait! Just let me know when you land.

He was now buzzing with excitement. "Sounds great! Looking forward to it. He passed send

He wanting to pass the time by planning their weekend. He strolled along on Google maybe a visit to a museum. He started drafting a list of things they could do.

As the plane leveled off, Jey leaned back, his mind racing with memories of their last time together. Philadelphia had so much to offer, and he was eager to share it again with Lola.

Lola glanced around her room, a whirlwind of fabric and color scattered everywhere. Her friends Molly and Maxine were sprawled on her bed, each holding various outfits as they attempted to help her prepare for her evening with Jey.

“Okay, how about this?” Molly exclaimed, holding up a cute sundress with floral patterns. "It’s adorable"

Lola rolled her eyes. “No way. I think It’s too dressy for just a hangout. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.”

Maxine chimed in, holding up a pair of leggings and a loose t-shirt. “What about this? Super comfy”

Lola frowned, shaking her head. “No, I can’t go out looking like I just rolled out of bed. I don’t want to look like I put no effort in at all!”

Lola sat down on the edge of her bed, feeling overwhelmed. “I have nothing that looks good!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration. “This is impossible!”

Molly leaned over, rummaging through the pile of clothes. “Okay, let’s take a breath. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

“I never talked to a guy like this before. What if I do something stupid? What if he thinks I'm immature?” Lola's voice wavered with anxiety.

“Hey, relax!” Maxine cut her off, her tone firm but comforting. “You’re overthinking it. Jey likes you for who you are, not for your age or what you wear Just focus on having a good time and enjoying the moment.”

Molly nodded in agreement. “Exactly! Think of it as just hanging out with a friend. No pressure!”

Lola took a deep breath, letting their words sink in. Maybe it wasn’t about the outfit after all; it was about being confident in herself. “Okay, you’re right. I just need to find something that feels true to me.”

“What do you guys think?” Lola asked her friends, adjusting her outfit nervously in front of the mirror. “Not too much?”

“No, you look good!” Molly said, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“Go have fun with Jey! We’ve got Dolly, Ginger, and Dumpling here to keep us company,” Maxine said while playfully rubbing Lola’s Saluki-Great Dane-Afghan Hound, who was wagging there tails excitedly.

Lola’s heart raced with anticipation, but her friends’ support made her feel more at ease. “You really think I can pull this off?” she asked, scanning her reflection one last time.

“Definitely! Just remember to be yourself,” Molly said with a reassuring smile.

Lola smiled back. “Okay, I’ll be back” she said taking a deep breath as she walked out the door.

Jey stood outside Lola's apartment complex, the door open, and it felt like time stopped for a moment when he saw her walk out. Even in dressed jeans and bottom up shirt, she looked beautiful to him.

“Hey, Jey” Lola called with a bright smile as she approached him.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” he replied, feeling a warmth spread through him.

She laughed softly, a sound that seemed to dance in the air. “Thanks i wasn’t sure if I should dress up or keep it casual.”

Jey shook his head, still captivated. “You could wear anything, and it would look good on you.”

Lola’s cheeks flushed with a hint of pink. “So, what do you want to do?” she asked.

Jey smiled, thinking for a moment. “I was thinking about grabbing some Philly cheesesteak and then checking out an art museum.”

“Oh, that sounds great!” Lola replied, her gray eyes lighting up. “I know this place that has the best Philly cheesesteak. And there’s an art museum nearby that features some truly beautiful artworks.”

“Perfect! Lead the way,” Jey said, feeling excited about the day ahead. As they walked together, the sun warmed their faces, and the bustling sounds of the city filled the air, creating a perfect backdrop for their day ahead.

While Jey and Lola walked, they chatted about their favorite foods and artworks, laughter floating in the air as they shared stories. Suddenly, Lola's eyes brightened. “Here we are!” she exclaimed, spotting a small food restaurant.

She walked to the door and opened it for Jey, a playful smile on her face. “You know, the man usually opens the door,” Jey said jokingly.

“Well, I already opened it, so go!” Lola replied, nudging him forward with a teasing grin.

Jey stepped inside, the delicious aroma of grilled meat hitting him instantly.

“Hey, Rick!” Lola called out to the elderly man behind the counter.

“Oh, hello, Lola! How have you been?” Rick replied, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“I’m fine! I brought a friend,” Lola said, gesturing to Jey standing beside her.

“Oh, that’s nice! You want the usual?” Rick asked, his eyes twinkling with familiarity.

“Yes, two, please!” Lola responded, her excitement evident.

Rick nodded, as he prepared their order.

“The usual,” Jey said, glancing up at Lola.

“Yes, you’re going to love it!” she replied with enthusiasm, leading the way to a table.

“Here you guys go!” Rick said, placing a tray with two wrapped Philly cheesesteaks on the counter.

“Thank you, Rick!” Lola said, smiling brightly as she grabbed the tray.

They settled into a cozy corner table, excitement palpable as they unwrapped their sandwiches. The aroma wafted up, making their mouths water in anticipation. Jey took a bite of his cheesesteak, flavors bursting in his mouth.

“This is fantastic!” he exclaimed, looking at Lola, who was already savoring her own.

“I told you! It’s the best in town,” Lola beamed. They continued to eat and chat, enjoying each other’s company and the delicious food.

“See you later, Rick!” Lola said, waving as they walked out the door.

“See you soon, Lola!” Rick replied with a smile.

“So, which art museum do you want to visit?” Jey asked as they began to stroll down the street.

“How about the Philadelphia Museum of Art? It’s my favorite!” Lola suggested, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

“Okay, that sounds good!” Jey said, matching her excitement.

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily between them.

Inside the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Jey and Lola wandered through the grand halls adorned with exquisite works of art. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows, illuminating the vibrant colors of the paintings and sculptures.

They paused in front of a large, vivid canvas, painted with energetic strokes of blues and yellows.

“What do you think?” Jey asked, tilting his head as he admired the abstract piece.

“I love how it captures movement,” Lola replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It’s almost alive!”

As they moved on, they found themselves mesmerized by a stunning sculpture of a dancer, frozen in a moment of grace. Lola leaned closer, studying the intricate details.

“Look at the way the fabric drapes,” she said, her voice filled with admiration.

“Yeah, it’s magnificent,” Jey agreed, but paused, his gaze shifting to Lola. “But not as magnificent as you.”

Lola turned, caught off guard by the compliment. Her cheeks flushed, and a smile broke across her face. “Oh, stop! I’m just here enjoying the art,” she said, playfully nudging him.

“It’s true,” Jey insisted, a teasing grin on his lips. “You light up this place just by being here.”

They shared a moment, laughter softening the air around them as they continued to explore the gallery. Lola felt a warmth inside, relishing the way Jey made her feel special.

They ventured further, encountering a series of portraits that captivated their attention. Jey peered closely at one of the figures, a dignified woman with piercing eyes.

“Can you imagine what her story is?” he mused, glancing at Lola.

“Probably something incredible. I wish I could just ask her,” Lola replied, a dreamy expression on her face.

With each piece they examined, their conversation flowed effortlessly, intertwining art and their thoughts, growing more personal with every exchanged glance. The museum, with all its beauty, became a backdrop for their blooming connection, each artwork a witness to the growing chemistry between them.

As they stepped out of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the golden hues of sunset painted the sky in vibrant oranges and soft pinks. Jey turned to Lola, catching her gaze as they paused on the steps.

“Hey, how about I walk you home?” he suggested, his voice warm and inviting.

“You don’t have to do that,” Lola replied, a hint of surprise in her tone.

“I want to,” Jey insisted, flashing a reassuring smile. “It’s getting late, and it’d be nice to spend a bit more time together.”

With a smile creeping onto her face, Lola nodded. “Okay, I’d like that.”

They began to walk side by side, the cool evening air wrapping around them. The streets were lively, filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter. Lola felt a pleasant thrill as they strolled, the setting sun casting a warm glow on them.

As they arrived at Lola's apartment complex, the warm lights flickered on, illuminating the pathway. Jey walked her to her door, their steps echoing softly in the quiet evening. Lola turned to face him, her heart fluttering.

“I had a great time,” she said.

“Me too,” Jey replied, his voice warm. Um are you free tomorrow.

“Cool maybe we can do some more things tomorrow,” he suggested.

“I like that,” Lola said, smiling.

She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Jey’s cheek, leaving him momentarily speechless. “Goodnight, Jey,” she said softly as she turned to open her door.

“Goodnight, Lola,” Jey replied, a smile spreading across his face, the warmth of her kiss lingering on his skin. He watched her enter.

As she closed the door, a wave of happiness washed over both of them, the sweet closeness of their shared evening hanging in the air as they each savored the growing connection that had blossomed between them.

[tangerinedreaming]

𖦹⋆ .

Why did I think it would fix the way I felt about myself?

The whole time, I thought I wanted you.

I wanted to feel your embrace again, your skin against mine, the warm weight of you pressing on my body, the ambiguity of words in silence, the unspoken weave of our bodies without glances at faces. I missed the way I could melt into you and you’d wait patiently with a conscious trace of fingertips over exposed skin. I wanted to feel wanted again.

I didn’t know how it would feel. Heated, maybe? Wanting, certainly. I needed some desire to fuel me, and some evidence to deny my delusion.

You provided that.

Comfort.

Experience.

Excitement.

You weren’t gentle or restrained. You explicated and enacted what you wanted, and I was glad I didn’t have to define what exactly I wanted. I still don’t know what that was. You held me with a wild fervour, one completely illogical, strange and dangerous for me.

I wanted affection, attention, without vague intention.

If I had acted differently after the fact, would it still be the same outcome? Would you still have said I was naïve and innocent, imply I was corruptible and acquiescent to your corruption, write your attraction to me off as respect for my motivation and achievement? Were you just upset by my standoffishness? Did you truly assume I’d get attached to you? Had you mistaken my inexperience for an absolute emotional reliance on others? Has your experience led you to believe you're the sort I, too, would irrevocably and irreparably fall for?

The questions that plagued me, the what-ifs that trademark me as a person, have slowly faded into vague wonderings. They're speculations rather than missing keys of paramount evidence, and I find myself growing less and less worried.

I've settled myself in what happened. I've accepted the inevitability of that choice, and there's nothing I can do about the regret, so I think I'm finally ready to let you go.

While I doubt you'd like that - me letting you go - you are mistaken. My perhaps naivety does not equate to natural unhealthy attachment, and I fear I might be the one to break your cycle.

You mistook my shyness for affection, and my affection for desire. I can't mistake you, because I listened when you talked about yourself, and I understood you. I even like to think I know you.

We can go back to being friends, but I hope you'll never know I can't stop remembering the softness of your hair in the cradle of my neck, and I can't look at you without knowing what you've seen of me without ever knowing what you saw in me. I don't think I'll be able to look at you again.

We're different people to each other now. I wish I could tell you how much it meant to me, how deeply I regret it, how much rage you caused me, how many tears I shed, how many smiles I hid, how many times I've placed my hands where you have been and allow myself to be haunted by your touch.

This can't possibly be the pleasure others tell me about. What have you reaped from me? Was it worth what you took, or was taking from me your reward?

Maybe you are right. Maybe I am ignorant, and naive, and innocent, and I assume the best in others, and trusted too deeply the goodness of man and the ability to resist temptation. Maybe I overestimated you, if you weren't beyond tightening your lips enough to save me any dignity. Maybe I overcompensated in platonic action, and you never understood what it was I actually felt for you and I never knew it fully either, and we both were two sides of the same coin.

There's no point in wondering what could have been. This is what it is, and we've lost what we had and there's no way of discerning what is ahead. I know you're already slackened grip, but I don't know if I can. I hate you deeply, and my wrist has loosened, but my fingers still cling tight despite the lifting pressure. You prematurely exposed visceral, untouched parts of me, and I don't think I can forgive you for that. I didn't have the strength to stop you, or the self-control to pull away, so I don't think I can complain.

It's really not your fault. You're just a man, it's just what you do. You really didn't do anything wrong, I don't think, but I can't draw the lines between my feelings and instinct in the moment and the me that sobbed violently an hour later and the me the next morning in a state of confused euphoria or that afternoon in a silent depression or a week later claiming I was over it and you and me now, still thinking feverishly of your touch and sickened by my reaction to your attention.

Truly, what have you done to me? What did you awaken? Not some wild beast of strange desires, but you rather unlocked some craving for affection I never had, insecurities that are completely unwarranted, debased thoughts that I don't even consider truths.

Whatever. I'm sorry. You're right.

I am an overthinker. I am hostile to men because of my awkwardness, and my insecurity manifests as an off-putting, standoffish exterior. I am naive, and we are better friends than this.

I'll concede to you again.

𖦹⋆ .

[thatidiotsuds]

hey ,sorry to bother, but can you pls make a fic about John McTavish where he is off from work and a few weeks later he gets a call in the middle of the night by one of the men in 141 asking if he is okay ,because no one has heard from him in a while( while they talk softly trying not wake you , 141 did not know john had a partner , you wake up and he apologized) pls if you have time, and thx if you can. All love❤ .

Hey Alicia4674! 🎉 You’re my very first request, I hope you like this. Feel free to throw more requests my way— Hope you’re having an awesome day! 😄✨

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem Reader

Secrets for Safety Reasons

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or images used in this work, nor do I claim any rights to them. GIF not mine

Warnings ⚠️: None, maybe grammatical and spelling errors 😅

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish was always a protective soul. If he were an animal, he’d be a Leonberger—loyal, strong, and always on guard. He might deny it, but deep down, he knew he was fiercely protective. Anticipating any possible danger was just part of who he was.

When Captain Price called him up during his daily training at the base gym to meet in his office, Soap felt a rush of hope. Maybe this was it. Price handed him a letter, and Soap’s heart raced as he read the words: he was finally relieved from duty and allowed to go home.

“Cheers, Captain,” he said, trying to keep his excitement in check as he made his way back to his chamber. He shut the door behind him, urgency coursing through him. Just like every time he was on leave, he quickly gathered his valuables, desperate to get back to you, his beloved wife, whom he hadn’t seen in far too long due to his missions.

He couldn’t wait to share stories of his adventures, leaving out the dangerous bits, of course. He knew you’d give him that disapproving look if you heard about the close calls. But he also knew you meant well; you loved him, and that was what mattered.

As he packed, he included some gadgets and tools he’d picked up during his missions, knowing how curious you’d be about them. A smile crept onto his face as he thought of your excitement. He placed his journal on top of the neatly folded clothes in his duffle bag and zipped it up.

After exchanging handshakes and hugs with his mates, he made his way home, leaving you a voice note on your nameless caller ID, the icon of a shampoo bottle making him chuckle. He kept his private life a secret, even from his closest friends. Not even Simon Riley knew he had a wife. The thought of the enemy finding out and coming after you made his stomach churn with anxiety.

That was why he chose to live in a small, secluded town in Scotland—somewhere hard to find but still accessible.

Once he landed and made it home, he spent every waking moment with you, showering you with kisses, even while you were cooking. He didn’t want you to leave his side; he just wanted you safe in his arms after being apart for so long. At home, he was the complete opposite of the serious, tough soldier everyone knew. He was clingy, affectionate, and playful, allowing himself to be vulnerable around you because his love for you was deeper than words could express.

Weeks later, one night, he woke up in a cold sweat, panting as memories and trauma from his missions crashed over him like a tidal wave. He shot up in bed, trying to calm his racing heart.

He glanced over to see you reaching for his hand in your sleepy state, and it made his heart flutter. Just then, his phone vibrated on the wooden surface of the bedside table. He picked it up and saw multiple missed calls and messages from his team. He quietly got out of bed and walked to the window, answering the call, knowing they must be worried since he hadn’t sent an update about his safe arrival.

“Hey, Lt.,” he said in a low, husky voice, careful not to wake you.

“Johnny, how’ve you been?” Ghost asked. “Garrick and Price have been trying to reach you for weeks.”

“I’ve... been busy, that’s all. A lot of things going on here at home,” he replied, glancing back at you as you shifted in bed.

“I’m glad you made it home. I’ll let the others know. Watch your six, alright?” Simon said.

“Cheers, Lt. You too, mate,” Soap replied with a small smile before hanging up. He placed the phone down on the nearest shelf and climbed back into bed, pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head, lingering there for a moment.

“Who was it?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Sorry to wake you, Bonnie. Just the lads checking in,” he reassured you softly. “Go back to sleep, love. I’m right here.”

With that, he settled back down, feeling the warmth of your presence beside him, and soon drifted off to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that you were safe.

[immortalsins]

wahoo i think i have a friend

[amelikos]

Liko and Amethio tomorrow..!

[cradle-of-darkness]

COOKIES OF DARKNESS NATION WE ARE OFFICIALLY BACK 💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(long rambling in tags if u care)

[tvrningout-a]

may i remind y’all that chiyo very much wants a family and that includes a wee baby… momma chiyo… she exists in some universe…

[neverendingford]

.

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

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